Chased Om Om 2

Not A Chef

The man pulled the corner of his lips revealing a beautiful smile. A smile that made his face lively with his trademark masculine good looks.

"If it's your decision, I really appreciate it." Om Damar peeked at the top of my head, a thing I was getting used to after getting familiar with. "Even if I don't really mean what I say."

My eyes were round hearing the words he said. Heh! Didn't mean? A sentence that seems ambiguous. Whatdoes thatmean? Was he intentionally playing with my feelings? Not mean what?

"Not really? Mean Om?" ask me to convey my curiosity.

I really don't want to think negatively, even though that sentence really sounds like it triggers negative thoughts itself. Therefore, I don't want to dampen that question and keep those stifling negative thoughts down for too long.

"All I told your principal was a bluff. I just don't want him to underestimate this problem" said Om Damar. "I want him to crack down immediately on the culprit. There's no way I'm slowing down your graduation anyway. Quite the contrary, I hope that you graduate soon so that I can propose to you soon."

Ew .. basic. The ends are getting bigger again, huh. Wonder aja ..he is this smart to woo, but why not married until now. Could he really not move on from a woman last night, or indeed we were dating until God made her single to me, or even vice versa … I was so naive that it was so easy to fall into his arms.

Crew .. kruuuk!

"Gosh, what's that sound?" ask Om Damar suddenly.

Ew .. 'emang stomach does not know shame, huh. Why the sudden sound. Shamefaced. Ouch .. where Om Damar was horrified too!

"Are you hungry?" ask Om Damar. I could see a big smile on his lips, as if laughing at the absurdity I could not hide. Of course, who could stop the sound of his gut protest demanding to be filled.

"Gee! Even nanya. At this hour, who isn't hungry?" to cover up my shame. "Basic ... Men are insensitive!"

Om Damar laughed as he ruffled my hair. "Yes. What is this lunch for?"

"What," I said accordingly. I glanced a little, figuring out Om Damar's reaction.

The man seemed to frown when he heard my answer. A moment later he raised his hand, seemingly about to give orders to his household assistants to prepare something.

I stopped him immediately. "Ew .. What, Om Damar made me, not anyone else" I said before the man called the servants of the house.

A pair of eyes with thick eyebrows were rounded. His index finger pointed at his own chest. "Me?" he said with a high tone, like not sure to hear my request earlier. "Are you sure you want to eat the food I made?"

I nodded firmly. When else can I play Om Damar? Wasn't this the right time, the moment he was trying to spoil me.

"But .. the problem is that I can't cook, Tiara," replied Om Damar. His voice sounded frustrated as he answered my request.

The man seemed to be scratching his head in confusion. Maybe hearing the sentence I said, ended up killing his sense of ego. He let out a long sigh before finally giving up and obeying my will.

"Allah …. But, don't regret it if it doesn't feel like what you imagined," he warned me. "I've never cooked a single time. So it's definitely not gonna be as good as normal cooking."

I frowned as I put on a parched face, for him to immediately stop our debate and prepare our lunch. Of course because I was hungry and he did not rush to process something for us to eat, but continued to look for reasons to escape from his duties.

"No papa. I must have eaten, really," I said immediately. "Hurry up, I'm so hungry." I held my stomach which again let out a voice of protest to fill up immediately.

Finally Om Damar left me in the living room. Pleased? Sure oes. How not, I managed to get a CEO of a sports costume company to make me lunch! Maybe everyone in this world is jealous of me.

I looked around me, spreading my gaze to see the living room around me. The pictures, the pictures of the woman, have disappeared from their place. Hmm. .. He might have saved it. It could be because he didn't want me to think badly of him.

Who would not think badly, if at home his lover seen a row of photos of the lover with other women. Only a freak will not feel jealous. Hmm. .. might be more precisely not a strange person, but someone else who does not have the slightest feeling towards him, who will not be jealous. Or maybe she just put away the photo with the intention of appreciating my feelings.

Ah ... never mind. The important thing is that their photos do not decorate this room. It means he has already started to open his heart. And I'm really lucky, because the heart is mine.

Hmm...a delicious aroma is smelled from inside there. It seems like he really started cooking. I couldn't have wasted the chance to see it. Really, I don't want to mess around because I missed a rare opportunity like this.

I slowly stood up and began to step back, slightly dragging my right leg. The smell of the cooking was getting clearer, as I began to set a pair of my feet into a room that did not look like the kitchen. Hmm. .. too clean to be called a kitchen. Ah .. what is possible this is because I am used to seeing my home kitchen dirty because of my mother's cooking activities, which in fact her job is home-style catering.

I saw the man in his black apron pulling the corner of his lips. While his hand was busy moving the spatula to stir the contents of his teflon skillet, as if it did not provide an opportunity for the contents inside to blacken because it was charred.

Really ... He makes me curious. How could he say he never cooked for anyone? Ah ... It looks like he's lying. He looked more like a chef than a novice with the apron and spatula in his hands.

I forced myself to approach him, my curiosity struggling to be satisfied. What exactly is he doing for me.

"Om Damar needs help?" my ask offers myself.

"May," he said confidently.

But seeing what was inside the round teflon thing, suddenly surprised me. I looked at his face with round eyes.

"God! A–what is this, Om?"