Capítulo 4: Chapter 4
"How do you like your bacon, Skyler? Extra crispy or slightly chewy?" He asked as his hands tossed the pork strips on the hot skillet.
Immediately, the oil sizzled as the pork's fats melted with the tremendous heat of the stove. Then, the bacon strips wrinkled and shrunk as they lost their juicy fats.
It is just how he likes them.
He took her to a high-class restaurant. But it was already closed when they arrived since it was late. Nevertheless, it did not stop him from giving them access to the place.
"I like it extra crispy." She answered while helping him slice a tomato into thin pieces. "Do you like some pickles on your sandwich?" In turn, she asked as she picked up a sealed bottle from the shelf.
At that moment, they were making a sandwich in the empty kitchen since the staff had just gone home, leaving the two of them to the full use of the kitchen.
"Yeah, sure! Why not?" He did not mind adding anything edible to his sandwich as long as it would taste good. Although he would admit, it had been a while since he had pickles on his sandwich. Not since. But no! He did not want to think about that day.
However, he could not help but steal glances at her. He would like to stare and study her face, but he did not want her to think he was a perv who could not keep his eyes off her.
"Do you own this restaurant?" She curiously asked. "I just wondered since you have a key." Moreover, she was probably wondering why he knew the passcode of the alarm at the back entrance.
It was a three-Michelin-starred restaurant, not just a random diner in the middle of nowhere but one of the top establishments in this vibrant city.
"I wonder what the owner would think about you trashing the place." She added, looking mildly amused and concerned at what they had done to what was once a spotless kitchen counter.
He could not blame her for being anxious and confused. Indeed, he had left quite a mess. But there was nothing to be concerned about. He had it under control. No one was going to be in trouble after this night was over.
"Don't worry about this." He pointed to the counter. "I'm not since I know you will help me clean up." He confidently said while giving her a wink as he continued toasting the bread.
"Really?" She expressed in astonishment. "But I guess it is only fair since you did all the cooking that I help with cleaning." Then, she gave him a bright smile that showed her white teeth and adorable dimples.
"Yap! I think that is only fair." He agreed as toss the toasted bread into a plate.
"Anyway, you haven't answered my question earlier." She reminded him. "So, is this one of your many properties?" As her eyes roamed around the room.
Technically, the land and building were his. But the restaurant was not. He could not claim someone else's hard work.
"Yes and no! I own the property, but my Mom owns this place." He told her as he took the bacon out of the pan. "She loves to cook." It was as if that was the best answer to her question.
But he noticed something odd in her expression. " I swear she tried her best to teach me." Then, he smiled, that charming boyish grin that made him seem to look ten years younger.
He admitted his mother did everything to teach him, but unfortunately, he was not good enough, seeing the result of their cooking session. Visibly, he was no gourmet chef like her.
"I'm sure she did." Of course, the sarcasm was obvious. Still, she avoided saying anything against her gracious host.
Aesthetically, the sandwich might not be what one would expect from a Michelin chef's son, but he believed it would still taste great.
She wiped the counter, putting the dirty utensils into the sink while he finished stacking up the sandwich with its fillings.
"I think we make a great team." He announced as he presented the sandwich to her. "Don't you think?"
"Yeah, I guess so." It turned out to be ok as they sat on the stool while sharing the delicious, mouthwatering treat they made.
But he quickly grabbed a bottle in a chiller and two glasses. "I'm sure you won't object to a drink. It is not the best, but it would still pair well with our chef-d'oeuvre."
He poured the wine and handed it to her. "Anyway, did you come from around here?" He asked, wondering if she might have, in some way, a connection to his past.
He finally had a better chance to look at her face directly as she sat on the opposite side of the counter. The lighting was sufficient to give him a clear view.
The resemblance was uncanny, not identical, but he could see the similarities. But those eyes, he could not be wrong. It was as if he was looking at the woman he had once loved.
But she is dead. Elena died a long time ago.
She could not be her. Again, it was impossible. Her nose was slightly different. Her chin was narrower. The tiny differences were noticeable. But the similarities were also there.
Still, Skyler is not Elena.
Nonetheless, he still found it weird that he felt a connection with her even though he just met her a few hours ago. It was as if he had known her for a long time.
"Nope, not from around here." She answered as she drank her wine. "I just got a good job offer near here and decided to give it a shot."
"What about you? Did you grow up in this neighborhood?" She asked since he appeared to belong around this part of the town.
"More or less." He said after chewing and swallowing the food in his mouth. "I used to move around a lot when I was young. Then, my family settled in this part of town for a while before my work forced me to leave again."
It used to be his hometown. But it had been years since he had been back. But now, he wondered if he was staying for good.
Could he still call it home when all this place reminded him was the haunted memories?
"Oh! So, you move a lot. That must be tough." She commented as she drank her wine and stared at him. "I wonder if I have bumped into you before."
"Somewhere?" She sharpened her eyes as if deeply digging into her brain. "Some place?"
"Because I swear, somehow, you look familiar." Suddenly, she extended her hand, leaning closer over the counter as she touched his face.
She let her fingers slide through his week-old, unshaven beard. He could feel her slight hesitation, but the curiosity was evident.
Surprisingly, they seemed to share the same feeling. "I also believe I've seen you before. Not just tonight." Then, he lifted his hand until his palm and fingers covered hers, feeling her soft skin against his warm ones.
Strangely, it felt familiar.
A coincidence?
Deja vu?
Or love at first sight?
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