Watching Sasha scarf down her food, Zane seemed worried she'd leave nothing for me. He grabbed a plate, piled it with food, and handed it over.
"You should eat, too. If she starves, that's on her. But I'd feel bad if you go hungry," he said.
I accepted the plate. "I'll make sure to eat plenty."
A smile crossed Zane's lips. "Good."
Sasha raved between bites, saying, "Oh my gosh, this breakfast is incredible! Who made this? Does the chef do side gigs? Don't worry. I'd pay top dollar. It wouldn't be some small amount!"
I laughed, turning to Zane.
"You couldn't afford him," he responded flatly.
Sasha remained unconvinced. "A chef I can't afford? The Westons may not be the richest family in the country, but we're well-known. And once my company is up and running, I'll make good monthly money. Whatever his rate is, I can pay it!"
She was brimming with confidence.
Zane's expression remained blank. "Oh."
"So who is this chef? Bring him out. I'll ask him directly how much he wants per month!" Sasha narrowed her eyes at Zane. "Unless you're just making excuses because you don't want to 'lend' him to me?"
Zane looked her straight in the eye. "That chef is me."
Sasha deflated instantly. She'd been ready to argue, but the words got stuck in her throat.
"Fine. If it's you, then yeah… no way I can afford that," she muttered.
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