His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

Emily: Oh, great. You’re alive. So there was no reason for you to have ignored me all day.

I dropped the phone onto the nightstand, heart thudding.

Let him feel it. Let him sweat for once.

Because whatever this was, whatever we were, wasn’t going to survive if it only worked when it was convenient for him.

And I wasn’t going to be with someone who left me in the dark just because he could.

Days passed. Then more days. And still, nothing.

Not a call. Not a message. Not even one of Liam’s usual snarky texts to lighten the mood.

After that one angry text he sent the night I had dinner with Kelvin, and my reply that I was just glad he was alive, he vanished. Poof. Like he’d been erased from my life. No follow–up.

Just silence.

At first, I tried to play it cool. I told myself he was probably busy. He did say he had a lot to fix. That he’d be back as soon as he could. But soon, every sound my phone made had me checking it like a madwoman. Every time it didn’t ring, it rang loud in my chest.

I was his girlfriend now. That counted for something, didn’t it?

But days bled into each other. My modeling offer kept moving forward–Jay helped me review the paperwork, introduced me to a branding consultant, even gave me a crash course in managing sudden fame. Brands were calling, emails pouring in. People wanted to work with “the girl who caught Liam Black.”

Funny. Because “the girl who caught him” hadn’t heard from him in over a week.

Sophia still hadn’t returned either. Though she texted to say she’d be back “real soon,” I had a feeling even she didn’t know what was going on with Liam. And summer… well, summer was slipping through my fingers. School loomed just around the corner. The life I thought I’d outgrown was inching back in, and I wasn’t ready.

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Chapter 82

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I needed air. A reset.

So when Mom texted that she was flying back in from her break in Houston, I jumped at the chance to pick her up.

LAX was its usual blur of motion and noise–families reuniting, lovers running into each other’s arms, the smell of pretzels, coffee, and jet fuel weaving through the air like a comfort

blanket.

Then I saw her. My mother. Walking toward me with her suitcase in one hand and her arms stretched wide.

“Mom!” I called, weaving through the crowd until I fell into her arms.

She squeezed me like she could put all my broken pieces back together. “There’s my baby! You’re glowing. One of us had an amazing summer, I see. Is the new boyfriend responsible?”

I let out a half–laugh. “Mom, please. You just landed. At least get home before you start embarrassing me.”

“Oh, I bet there’s a story there,” she said with a raised brow. “We’ll talk about it.

From the airport, Mom asked if we could make a quick stop at her favorite tea shop in Beverly Grove. A little detour. I agreed. Anything to stretch time before going home to another night of wondering why the hell my boyfriend had gone mute on me.

The tea shop was small but pretty–warm lighting, clean marble floors, shelves lined with rare herbs and teas. We chatted lightly. She picked a new blend for sleep and digestion. I got a bag of honey–flavored green tea just because the packaging was cute.

And then, as we were leaving, I saw him.

Liam.

Standing across the street like some tall, well–dressed betrayal. Black suit. No tie. Sunglasses tucked into his collar. Talking to someone on the phone, like the world wasn’t currently crumbling under my feet.

I stopped walking. My stomach dropped like an anchor.

Mom noticed my stillness. “What’s wrong?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My eyes were glued to him. He looked… fine. Normal. Like a man

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