  &quot;This place looks a little different, Tom, charmingly, though,&quot; Mitchell added, smiling conceitedly. Her boss had always insisted on her being on a first-name basis with her. Having grown up among the whites, he acted so much like them that oftentimes, she forgot he was a black man.
  Tom smiled. But said nothing.
  Mitchell took her seat and relaxed into it.
  &quot;Care for a drink before dinner is served?&quot; He asked
  &quot;No... I am fine.&quot; She stood up before adding, &quot;I will just come and help you with whatever you are cooking.&quot;
  He started to shake his head, just as she expected. Tom always prided himself on his culinary skills. He can prepare over a hundred different French and Italian cuisines excellently. When it comes to American dishes, Tom was a wizard and this doesn t make him bad in African dishes either. He can prepare any African dishes, an

  &quot;Come over here, dinner is served. I figure it will be lovely eating outside tonight. The stars, moon, rippling sound of the seawater, and lovely weather... One shouldn t miss it... don t you think?&quot; 
  &quot;That almost sounds poetic to me, Tom. You are so smitten.&quot; Mitchell said as he followed him to the balcony where he had set the table for their dinner.
  Mitchell took her seat and opened the various dishes in front of her, allowing a pleased wow to escape her mouth.
  &quot;This looks good,&quot; she said with a smile.
  &quot;It even tastes better,&quot; Tom added. Taking his seat across from her. After filling their wine glass and returning the bottle into the bucket of ice.
  Mitchell dished food into her plate after Tom had done the same. He waited for her to take her first bite into her mouth, savoring every bit of it, Mitchell closed her eyes as she let out a

  She felt relaxed.
  Her secretary had since closed for the day and she was almost certain she would likely be the only one left in the building by now. She had cultivated the habit of staying long at work because her house felt too big and lonely whenever she was in it. Unconsciously, it became a habit. Leaving work late, sometimes as late as eight or nine. She remembered how many times Daniel had complained about her late-night work at the office but that hadn t stopped her, rather she would take her work home and work into the late night.
   She became so cocooned in her work, she forgot all about her loneliness.
  But for the first time in many years, Mitchell felt lonely.
  It was as if her soul yearns for something, but what it was yearning for, was what she didn t know nor have an idea of.
  She worked back to her seat and perfunctorily packed her bag. She was to have dinner with

&quot;This place looks a little different, Tom, charmingly, though,&quot; Mitchell added, smiling conceitedly. Her boss had always insisted on her being on a first-name basis with her. Having grown up among the whites, he acted so much like them that oftentimes, she forgot he was a black man.
  Tom smiled. But said nothing.
  Mitchell took her seat and relaxed into it.
  &quot;Care for a drink before dinner is served?&quot; He asked
  &quot;No... I am fine.&quot; She stood up before adding, &quot;I will just come and help you with whatever you are cooking.&quot;
  He started to shake his head, just as she expected. Tom always prided himself on his culinary skills. He can prepare over a hundred different French and Italian cuisines excellently. When it comes to American dishes, Tom was a wizard and this doesn t make him bad in African dishes either. He can prepare any African dishes, and all this he does with ease and expertise. Mitchell had once asked him during one of their dinne

Chapter 27