His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21

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“Where are we going? Unless you tell me right now, I’m not moving an inch,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Sophia and folding my arms in mock protest. I squinted harder, mimicking that intense stare you give someone when you want to pry the truth out of them.

She grinned like the devil had just given her a good idea. “It’s a surprise.”

“That smile is suspicious.”

“That’s because you’re definitely going to love where I’m taking you.”

I raised a brow. “Does this surprise include your brother?”

“If it did?”

“Then I decline.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “No, drama queen. Liam is not involved. Now will

Still skeptical, I stood up slowly. “If you’re lying to me…”

you move?”

“I would never,” she said, holding out her little finger with dramatic flair. “Pinky swear.‘

I looked at her like she’d lost it. “Are we five?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine,” I muttered, pointing a finger. “But if I see so much as a shadow that remotely looks. like Liam. I’m running.”

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“Noted. Now go put on something soft. Comfy.”

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Twenty–five minutes later, I was dressed in denim jeans and a clean tee, my hair swept into a lazy bun. I slid into the passenger seat of Sophia’s convertible, unsure whether I was being kidnapped, pampered, or shoved into a spontaneous PR stunt.

Turns out it was kind of all three.

We pulled up to a discreet, glass–walled building nestled off Sunset Boulevard. The valet opened our doors like we were royalty. I looked up at the shimmering signage.

“Sophia… what is this?”

She stepped out like she was arriving at a red carpet event. “Welcome to La Zeeron Wellness Spa,” she announced dramatically. “Only the best in all of L.A., if I say so myself.”

“You brought me to a spa?” I blinked at the name again. “Isn’t this that place for, like, A–list celebrities? Strictly by reservation?”

“My birthday officially begins now,” she said, throwing her arms out like a magician finishing a trick. “And I’m starting it with you.”

I laughed softly, feeling a weird flutter in my chest. “Why me? You could’ve come alone or picked someone else.”

As we followed the hostess down a softly lit hallway that smelled like coconut water and five kinds of lavender, I half–expected someone to hand me a silk robe stitched with gold thread.

Sophia glanced sideways at me. “Because you’re not just anyone, Emily.”

I shot her a questioning look.

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She smiled softly. “Being the only girl in the Black family has always been kind of lonely. I mean, I love my mom. We do stuff together when she’s not traveling, but I’ve always wanted a sister. Someone to gossip with. To book spontaneous spa days with. Travel. Rant about men. Steal outfits from.

She paused as we stepped into a private treatment suite.

“And for once.” she continued, voice dipping, “I found someone who’s not trying to use me You’re not a leech. You’re real. And I love that about you.”

I stared at her, unsure how to process the warmth her words stirred in me.

“Well… I do have a hidden agenda,” I teased. “I’m just waiting for the right moment to strike.”

“I’d love to see you try,” she grinned, unbothered, and peeled off her top layer. Slipping into the plush robe an attendant handed her, she added, “You’re stuck with me now. I officially claim you as my new sister. No take–backs.”

A real smile tugged at my lips. “You’re insane.”

“And you,” she said, grabbing my wrist, “are long overdue for a steam facial.

The next two hours passed in pure bliss.

We were scrubbed, steamed, massaged, wrapped, and treated like royalty. The scent of crushed mint and cucumber lingered under the warm towels. The attendants were kind, skilled, and impossibly calm.

Sophia cracked jokes during her foot massage, and I lost count of how many times we laughed. For once, I let myself just be. Just me, and this unexpected bubble of joy

As we lounged in the recovery room, sipping detox tea in white robes, Sophia tilted her head thoughtfully.

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“We’re not done,” she said, eyes sparkling.

I narrowed my eyes. “Sophia… it better top this.”

She smirked. “We’ll see. It’s a jewelry stop actually. Quick one.”

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The drive to the jewelry store was short. Sophia claimed it wasn’t just any store. It was one of those appointment–only places tucked away behind neutral doors, known only to people with names on exclusive guest lists.

Apparently, she needed to pick up a custom piece for her birthday outfit.

“I need your opinion,” she said, parking the car. “And your wrist. Might make you model one

or two.”

I eyed her. “So the spa was a bribe for this, wasn’t it?”

She grinned. “A very expensive one. Worth it, though.”

Inside, the space was sleek, gold–toned, and absurdly quiet. The walls were lined with velvet cases, each holding a piece so elegant it felt like even looking too hard might trigger a security alarm

I stood by as Sophia tried on a vintage diamond choker, exuding confidence under the lighting. It was kind of hard not to admire how she glowed when she wasn’t busy stirring

chaos.

Eventually, she made her choice and asked them to wrap it up

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Just as we were about to leave, the door opened behind us.

And in walked Mason.

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He hadn’t seen me yet. He was speaking to one of the sales clerks in his smooth, low voice, button–up sleeves rolled just enough to look effortless. When his eyes finally landed on me, his expression shifted, surprise first, then unmistakable warmth.

“Emily,” he said, his voice edged with curiosity and something else I couldn’t place.

I straightened. “Mason.”

Sophia turned, clocking the exchange instantly.

“Mason!” she said brightly. “Wow, it’s been forever.”

He leaned in and gave her a friendly hug. “Good to see you too.”

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