Chapter 3 Cook For him

Rickie was stunned by this insight. He hadn't considered that angle at all. Azriel watched his reaction and continued, "Your budget assumes a 60% discount. I assume you've accounted for transportation costs, but what if the logistics company raises their prices?"

That thought struck Rickie like a lightning bolt. If they increased their rates, his budget would definitely fall short. Frustration was palpable on his face; he realized how careless he had been. He had two options: negotiate the price of the medicine down or ensure logistics costs wouldn't spike. Given the tight timeline, it made sense to negotiate with Azriel now, but asking for a favor felt daunting.

Azriel took a slow sip of tea, coughed lightly, and let the silence linger, clearly waiting for Rickie to process everything.

"Can you lower your price?" Rickie finally asked, knowing he had to focus on the bigger picture, even if it felt like giving in.

Azriel smiled, pleased with Rickie's concession. It seemed he was finally learning that the road ahead wouldn't be smooth, and understanding the situation was better than stubbornly resisting it.

"Yes, I can give you a 50% discount. I also have a reliable logistics company that will ensure the goods arrive in East Africa on time, but you'll need to agree to one condition," Azriel replied.

"What condition?" Rickie asked, wary of what Azriel might want.

"Can you cook?" Azriel looked at him with a grin, setting his teacup down.

"Cooking?" Rickie was taken aback, confusion washing over him.

Azriel nodded. "Yes, you can eat, but you can't compare to a professional chef."

After years abroad, Rickie had learned to cook out of necessity when supplies were limited. He could manage, but he knew he could never match a chef's skills. Still, as long as he was full, that was what mattered.

"That's fine. It will take about two weeks for the goods to be ready. My aunt is going home during that time, so you'll cook for me for the next two weeks," Azriel said, pressing his knee against the blanket. He seemed to think this would give Rickie enough time to learn.

"Is that really the deal?" Rickie asked, puzzled. A 50% discount felt like a steep price to pay for a home-cooked meal. His instincts were on high alert, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than met the eye.

Here's a more engaging version of the chapter, with added detail and depth to enhance the interest:

"This is the requirement. After all, I can't go without eating for the next two weeks. If you can cook, it saves me the trouble of finding someone else," Azriel said, leaning back against the plush pillows. His deep-set eyes sparkled with mischief as they met Rickie's.

"Okay, I'll agree to that. If you deliver the medicine on time, I'll cook for you for two weeks," Rickie replied, gritting his teeth. Cooking wasn't a daunting task, but the thought of living under the same roof as Azriel stirred up old emotions. Still, he could manage; it was just cooking.

"Well, since I'm stuck in this remote place, you might as well live here. Pick any room you like," Azriel smiled, his demeanor growing warm and inviting.

Rickie raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, pick any room? Are you really that generous?"

"Why not? It's a big house, and I hardly use most of it. Besides, it'll be nice to have someone around," Azriel said, a hint of sincerity in his voice.

"I want to check the concentration of the drugs you have in stock," Rickie interjected, his tone turning serious. He didn't completely trust this pharmaceutical company, and he knew that even minor variations in drug concentration could have significant consequences. They were dealing with lives, and he needed to ensure that they were prepared to handle the epidemic effectively.

"Don't worry. I'll arrange everything. Tomorrow, you can sample and inspect the drugs in stock," Azriel assured him. Rickie nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief. Despite his reservations about Azriel, he couldn't deny the man's competence. After all these years, Rickie found himself once again swayed by Azriel's confidence.

Azriel glanced at his watch, a faint frown appearing on his face. "It's almost four o'clock. You should take a look at the kitchen. My aunt stocked the fridge with ingredients. If you need anything else, just let me know, and I can have the driver bring it."

Rickie's eyes widened as he noticed the inviting kitchen. He hadn't expected Azriel to embrace this role so quickly. Did they really just negotiate cooking arrangements?

"What time do you usually eat?" Rickie asked, curiosity piqued.

"About six o'clock," Azriel replied, a hint of reluctance in his tone. He often struggled with his appetite due to medication but was disciplined about mealtime.

"Six o'clock? That's a sensible time," Rickie noted. But then he scolded himself for getting lost in trivial thoughts again.

"I'll go see what ingredients are available," he said, pushing aside his musings.

Azriel nodded, lifting the blanket from his legs and slowly following Rickie into the kitchen.

The kitchen was impressive, featuring a large integrated refrigerator brimming with fresh produce, meats, eggs, and even desserts. It was clear Azriel had put some thought into this.

"How many dishes do you usually make?" Rickie asked, glancing over the bounty.

"Two or three. I can't eat it all by myself," Azriel admitted, shrugging.   Rickie couldn't help but chuckle, turning to face him. "That doesn't fit the stereotype of a capitalist. Shouldn't you be enjoying seven or eight dishes at every meal?"

Azriel laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Capitalists are human too. If you work hard, you shouldn't waste food."

Rickie smiled back, feeling a flicker of nostalgia. There was something familiar about Azriel's laughter, a connection that reached back through the years.

"Then I'll improve your meals starting today," Rickie declared, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Azriel had helped him significantly, and despite any past prejudices, he was determined to make the most of this opportunity. For the next two weeks, he would take his role as chef seriously and give it his all.

As he mentally planned the meals, Rickie felt like he was stepping into a new chapter of his life-one where he could combine his skills with his desire to help.

"Go ahead and sit down; dinner will be ready by six o'clock," he said, waving Azriel toward a chair. The kitchen suddenly felt like a place where transformation was possible, and he was ready to embrace it.

Azriel didn't expect Rickie's reaction. He had thought the young man might accuse him of taking advantage of the situation. Instead, he sat on the sofa in the living room, watching as Rickie tied on his apron, deftly pulled out meat and vegetables, and began washing and cutting them with precision. Azriel felt a wave of relief that he had chosen an open kitchen.

As time passed quietly in the room, Azriel couldn't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. The little boy he had first met had grown up so quickly. He found himself reminiscing about the times they had spent together, moments that seemed to blend into a harmonious past.

In the kitchen, however, Rickie was focused entirely on the task at hand. He knew he was taking advantage of the situation, but he was determined to do his part seriously and poured his heart into cooking dinner.

In the tranquil courtyard, the sizzling sound of water hitting the hot oil filled the air, infusing the space with the aromas of a bustling kitchen.

Rickie emerged with two dishes, calling out, "Time for dinner!"

Azriel stood up and approached the table, eyeing the offerings: a yam stir-fried with broccoli and a dish of meat sautéed with celery. Rickie soon brought out two more plates: sweet and sour ribs, and a plate of popular crayfish. Azriel was taken aback, not just by the variety, but by Rickie's willingness to prepare such dishes for him.

"Sit down first; I have soup too," Rickie said, returning with a small casserole.

"What kind of soup is this?" Azriel leaned in, curious.

"Shredded bamboo shoot soup. I noticed you had dried bamboo shoots in your kitchen. It's good for you to have four dishes and a soup," Rickie replied as he settled down across from him.

"It's important to eat well. This meal feels quite extravagant," Azriel remarked, picking up his chopsticks and tasting the celery dish. He couldn't resist teasing Rickie about his culinary skills.

Rickie remained quiet, though inwardly he thought about the hefty price of this meal-the rice exchanged for hundreds of millions in discounts.

The meal passed in a comfortable silence, the atmosphere warm despite the lack of words.

"Do you live here alone?" Rickie asked, recalling that Azriel had mentioned he was by himself.

"Yes, if you don't count you," Azriel replied softly, a hint of warmth in his gaze. "Have you been doing well these past few years?"

"It's been great. I've traveled a lot-north and south. It's been fulfilling," Rickie said, though he ate with the fervor of someone who hadn't had a proper meal in a while.

"Doctors Without Borders is a good organization. Just remember to take care of yourself," Azriel said, his voice laced with concern. The mention of protection brought back memories of a certain individual whose fate remained uncertain. Rickie merely nodded, a silence falling between them, which Azriel sensed weighed heavily on both of them.

"By the way, what did you mean when you said you're not Azriel?" Rickie asked, recalling Torry's earlier comments about Azriel being a shareholder who rarely appeared at the company. Looking around the beautiful house, he wondered why Azriel chose to live so far from the city.

"I stepped back from my role and no longer run things," Azriel replied, his appetite waning. He sipped from his bowl, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Stepped back? You weren't kicked out, were you?" Rickie asked, skepticism evident in his voice. He couldn't imagine a workaholic like Azriel simply walking away from his responsibilities.

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, nothing like that. I just needed a change."

Rickie felt a flicker of curiosity about what lay behind Azriel's decision, but he decided not to pry further. They both sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the meal and their shared history wrapping around them like a familiar blanket.