His Reluctant Obsession

05 The Unexpected

Lana

My date with Cole was actually more than I had expected. He was gentle and patient. It’s almost unbelievable.

But he has always been like that. I was just too focused on Ethan to notice anything about him. I already told him I’m not ready to date anyone, and he fully understands.

Considering the fact that he has been after me for three years, he’s pretty patient and persistent.

My mind went back to the date we had a week ago. Everything was going well until I saw him, the guy I met at the bar that day.

He was looking straight at me. Even after I averted my gaze, I could still feel his stare on me.

As much as my date with Cole was alright, I still can’t get that man out of my head. I even went as far as dreaming about him, and I don’t even know his damn name.

My head has been betraying me since then. I can’t go a day without his perfectly sculpted face appearing in my mind. It’s quite unnerving.

“Lana?” I heard Beatrice call, and I blinked.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Dad wants to speak with you,” Beatrice said, handing the phone over to me. She had a worried look on her face.

I must have spaced out for quite a long time.

“Can you tell him I’m busy?” I whispered.

“I can hear you, Lana,” Dad’s voice sounded through the phone, and I sighed in defeat.

“Hey, Dad,” I gritted out.

“You haven’t been picking any of my calls, and you haven’t come to see me in almost a year now. I feel like I don’t know my daughter anymore,” Dad complained, and I sighed.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy making a living,” I replied.

“That’s what you always say. I’m just glad you’re okay,” he sighed.

“Goodbye,” I said and handed the phone to Beatrice, who exchanged a few words with him before hanging up.

“You can’t stay mad at him forever, Lana. You know it wasn’t his fault,” Beatrice reasoned.

“It was his fault. You only tell yourself that so you don’t have to hate him,” I replied with an eye roll, and Beatrice sighed.

“Mom wouldn’t like what you’re doing to her husband because it wasn’t his fault,” Beatrice said and walked toward the kitchen, leaving me to my thoughts.

It’s not like I blame him completely, but he wasn’t there. He was never there for us. Beatrice wouldn’t understand what I’m feeling because she was just a child then, but I know what happened.

Kelvin Myers wasn’t around when he should have been, and my mother, Antonia Myers, got killed.

I will never forget that night, and I will never stop blaming him for it.

My phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. When I looked at the caller ID, I paused.

Why is Ethan calling me? He didn’t answer any of my numerous texts and calls when the news of his engagement with Hannah hit the tabloids.

I sent numerous voicemails, all unanswered, and now he’s calling me? I’ve tried my hardest to put Ethan behind me, and I won’t let him ruin that.

I hit decline and tried to block his number, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“What’s wrong?” Beatrice, who had just come out of the kitchen, asked worriedly.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I said and stood up from the couch. Beatrice nodded; she didn’t look like she believed me, though, but I’m glad she didn’t push it.

---

I stood in front of the huge building. This is the biggest restaurant in Los Angeles, it’s over four stories tall and made of thick glass.

I got an email yesterday approving my request to apply as a chef here.

I didn’t tell Beatrice because this is huge news, and I want to get the job first before telling her.

My account is already drowning in debit alerts, and if it continues like this, we won’t be able to eat good food. Hell, I won’t be able to pay next month’s rent.

Vine Restaurant is owned by the Moretti family, a private wealthy family that came from old money. They don’t just own restaurants but several establishments in Los Angeles.

I applied to be interviewed as a chef in this restaurant about two years ago, and I honestly lost all hope since I didn’t get feedback. But I got an email so suddenly yesterday, I couldn’t believe it.

I still don’t believe it, I think it’s a sham, but I have to try. I don’t have a choice with how bad my account is bleeding.

I sighed and adjusted my corporate wear, ensuring I looked professional before walking into the restaurant.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” The lady at the entrance smiled at me, but the smile didn’t cover the disgusted look on her face.

She’s probably wondering what a lowlife woman like me is doing in a place like this.

“My name is Lana Myers. I’m here for an interview as a chef. I received an email yesterday,” I spoke as politely as I could.

“This way,” she replied after a while. She didn’t seem to believe me, but I guess she was already told I was coming.

I followed behind her as my eyes scanned the restaurant in awe. If, and only if I successfully become a chef here, my life will completely change.

We entered the elevator, which completely surprised me. There’s an elevator in a restaurant! The Moretti family really does know how to spend a lot of money.

When the doors opened, we were led to an office where I met a man sitting behind a desk.

“Sir, Lana Myers,” the woman introduced me and left the office while I stood there, confused out of my mind.

“Have a seat, Miss Myers,” the man said, and I sat down. This office is bigger than my living room.

“I’m Mr. Romero. I received your application for an interview, but I don’t understand why you need one when you’ve already been accepted,” Mr. Romero said, and I blinked.

Huh? How? I didn’t receive any email saying I’d been accepted.

“I don’t understand, sir,” I said, confused.

“It means you don’t need an interview. You can start Monday,” I heard a familiar voice behind me, and I turned to meet him.