Chapter 58: Chapter 58

“WHO is that guy?” Jeffrey asked in furrowed brows while watching Rochelle and the other guy talked outside. When they drove away, he turned to Marvin. “Why he seemed so close to Rochelle? And, what are they talking about?”

Marvin threw the pasta dough to the stainless table and rolled his eyes ceilingwards. “Dude, you’ve been asking me that question a thousand times. I didn’t hear what she said because I was three to four meters away from them. I may look like Superman, but I don’t have superpowers.”

Jeffrey groaned, ignoring Marvin’s egoistic remarks on himself. “Why does she have to be so rude to me but so kind to others?”

Marvin laughed mockingly. “Maybe because she knew that you’re the popular playboy chef?”

He shot a glare to Marvin. “Do you love your job?”

Marvin grinned. “I love my salary.”

“Then, think of ways that could help me make that woman fall for me,” he said and leaned on the sink. “I want her. I, really, really want Rochelle.”

Some of his closing shift employees looked at him, wearing the same mixed expression of confusion and surprise.

“Chef, you’ve finally found the girl that made you swoon to the dance floor,” said the pantry backup employee. “You should introduce her to us.”

Marvin laughed. “The problem is the girl doesn’t like him—even a bit.”

Jeffrey threw the tomato to him. “That’s why I am asking you to help me—”

“Chef, if the girl doesn’t like you, then you have to court her,” Angelo, the waiter suggested. “Persuade her in a Filipino way.”

Jeffrey knotted his forehead. “I haven’t done that before.”

“That’s because you’re used to women chaRochg you,” Marvin said and threw back the tomato to him that he quickly caught with his one hand. “I told you, Rochelle is different. Did you see that guy that she talked to a while ago? They shared the same profession, and he likes her, too, but—”

“That asshole likes my Rochelle?” Jeffrey crashed the tomato in his hand. Its juices stained his apron. “Who gave him the right to have feelings for her?”

Marvin frowned at him and so his employees. “Dude, women find possessive men scary.”

His brows furrowed. “I’ve read a romance fiction book, and the writer says there that girls were attracted to possessive men.”

Marvin laughed. “That’s immaturity,” he said and shook his head. “Mature women don’t want to be manipulated. And, Rochelle is one of them—but just a little tougher.”

____________

ROCHELLE hanged her cardigan to the rack behind the door, threw her purse to the sofa, and plopped down. It’s been a tiring day for her. She did four autopsies today, but two cases were remained pending because of their fingerprint laboratory backlogs.

She leaned back and sighed. Her thoughts wandered to the suicide case that Dr. Saavedra transferred to Thaddeus. ‘What made the case complicated?’ she asked in her mind. She wasn’t convinced of their reason for getting the case from her. She has read the external reports, and she didn’t see anything unusual about the crime scene. ‘Or did I overlook it?’

Rochelle stood and went to take a shower. She was so physically and mentally exhausted that her body needed a hot shower. She took off all her clothes and stepped inside the shower cubicle. She pressed the hot button, and warm water showered her naked body.

‘Every time you looked at me like that, a magical feeling was being sent to me…’

Rochelle paused. “What the fuck?” She brushed her wet hair with her hands. “Why did that bastard’s dull accent and lousy pick-up lines crossed my mind?”

She grabbed the bottle of body soap and squeezed a generous amount on her palm. She groaned when, after a few drops, the bottle squirted. “I’ve got to refill my stocks…”

She lathered the soap on her shoulders, across her chest, and down to her stomach. Rochelle closed her eyes when her hand reached the place between her legs. Her mind traveled back to where she was a few hours ago, sipping the finest red wine from Italy while having the most delicious dish in Europe.

And, from a distance, a man appeared. He was approximately six feet and two inches tall with broad shoulders, muscular arms, and toned legs. A cold wind blew his downy hair that she didn’t know where from. Just as she was about to look at his face, the man raised and walked behind her and touched her shoulders. After a few seconds, the man was now sitting in front of her, flashing his most dashing smile.

His large hand ran down her shoulders. The warm water from the shower suddenly became cold. He slipped his hands in front of her chest and touched her breasts. Rochelle moaned as his hands started to massage the softness of her breasts.

The man suddenly stopped what he was doing. Rochelle shut her eyes and turned to face him. His hand caressed her cheeks, and his fingers traced the line of her lips. Rochelle parted her mouth, inviting him for a kiss.

‘Quieres que te beso?’ the man asked.

Rochelle paused when she heard the familiar tone of voice. ‘But was it Spanish?’ She opened her eyes, and when she saw the face of the man, her brows quickly furrowed. “What the—”

The bastard Chef in her fantasies vanished. The water flowing on her body suddenly felt so hot on her skin. Rochelle disgustingly hit the cold button and let herself soaked in the freezing temperature. “Fuck,” she hissed as she struggled to ditch the dirty thoughts meandering on her mind.

She was drying her hair in front of the mirror when her phone rang. Rochelle tied her robe before she went to her bed and picked up her phone. It was an unknown number.

“Hello? Who’s this?” she asked, brows furrowed.

“Dr. Rochelle Ocampo…” A hoarse male voice aired from the other line.

“Yes, speaking. Who is this?”

A faint scraping sound of metal to metal aired from the background before the caller spoke again. “Don’t touch my girl…” he said in a low throaty voice. “Don’t touch my Isabel.”

“Isabel?” Rochelle asked, but a moment later, the line went dead.

***

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