His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

I barely parked when I saw a familiar figure lounging by my front steps, hands in his pockets, wearing that signature smirk that always meant trouble.

“Jay?” I stepped out of the car, eyebrows raised.

He straightened, smug as ever. “Good. You’re home. For a minute, I thought I’d have to break in through the window.”

I gave him a flat look. “At the rate things are going, maybe I should just give you and Sophia spare keys. Save everyone the hassle.”

Jay grinned. “Not a bad idea. We’re basically unofficial tenants at this point.”

I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here? What are you up to now?”

“Sophia sent me to fetch you,” he said dramatically. “Tonight’s the pre–birthday–slumber- bash–extravaganza. Her words, not mine.”

I blinked. “Wait. I’m sleeping at Liam’s again?”

Jay burst into laughter. “You wish. No, the pre–bash is at my place this time. Liam banned Sophia from throwing any more parties at his house after the Great Pool Party Disaster.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Disaster?”

He tilted his head. “There was fire. And cops. And an inflatable swan that mysteriously exploded. Trust me. It’s a long story.”

I stared. “Why does that somehow sound believable?”

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Chapter 23

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“Because it is. Now, pack your things. Sophia said if I return without you, I’m officially the worst brother in the whole world.”

“Wow. Tragic,” I teased. “Give me five minutes.”

Jay’s house was tucked in a gated LA neighborhood that looked straight out of a billionaire real estate magazine. Tall hedges, pristine stone paths, a view of the hills, and a home made almost entirely of glass and modern steel. Sleek. Artistic. Totally him.

Inside, the prep for Sophia’s pre–birthday bash was already in motion. Lights being tested. Velvet ropes arranged. Elegant platters of hors d’oeuvres on display. A playlist thumping softly from invisible speakers in the walls. Staff moved with quiet precision like this was a red–carpet gala and not just a “casual” party.

“This is not the main party?” I asked Jay as I stepped inside.

He smirked. “Wait till tomorrow.

Sophia came running like a five–year–old on sugar and launched herself into a hug. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for hours!”

“I had to pack, you maniac.”

“Let me guess… while you were at it, you looked for the perfect excuse not to show up.”

I stayed quiet. Which said enough.

Sophia dragged me upstairs to one of Jay’s extravagant guest rooms. Within minutes, she had makeup spread out like a Sephora showroom and two garment bags lined up.

“Tonight’s dress is a surprise,” she said, unzipping one with flair.

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It was deep crimson. Satin. A thigh–high slit. Straps so thin they looked like whispers. “Don’t argue. You’re wearing this.”

I blinked. “I’m not even sure how to sit in that.”

“You don’t sit. You float. You glide.”

“With what? Confidence?”

“Exactly.”

With the help of her makeup artist and enough hair spray to hold up a chandelier, I was transformed. The mirror showed a version of me that looked expensive, sleek, and a little dangerous.

“You’re scary hot,” Sophia said, beaming.

“I don’t recognize myself.”

“Great. Time to join the party.”

Downstairs, the party was already in full swing.

The bass pulsed through the floor. People danced beneath strobing lights. Someone balanced champagne flutes on a tray while swaying to the music. There was glitter, laughter, mini photo ops, and people I swore I’d seen on magazine covers.

I scanned the room, taking in every face.

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Chapter 23

No Liam.

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Jay caught me looking. “You can relax. He never comes to this part. He’ll show up tomorrow for the main event.”

I exhaled, finally easing into the energy of the room. I hadn’t even taken a full sip of champagne before Mason walked in.

Tall, composed, effortlessly polished, and undeniably present.

I turned immediately to Sophia, who stood beside me like an angel with horns.

“You invited him,” I accused.

She batted her lashes. “Guilty.”

Mason made his way over, smiling softly. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I said, trying to sound casual. “About the photo…”

“I had no idea someone snapped us. If I had, I’d have done something.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “My face wasn’t clear. Nobody knows it’s me.”

“I’m aware of that,” he said gently. “Still. It shouldn’t have happened.”

I nodded. “Thanks. But really, it’s fine.”

The awkwardness melted into something easier. Mason had that way of making conversation feel effortless.

Then the lights dimmed, the music swelled, and the wild part of the night began.

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