Prince's POV*

After entering the kitchen, I look to my right and see this beautiful brown haired lady. She's sitting at the island looking through a cook book. She has no idea I'm standing right behind her. My eyes roam over her long, toned legs and I have to push the naughty thoughts out of my head. I may end up fucking her, eventually, but I sure the hell won't open my heart up to her or any other woman. Those days are long gone.

"Excuse me," my deep voice  says in a loud tone causing her to jump. Her green eyes look back at me and I can see how nervous she is.

"Oh, um, you're Prince?" She asks with confusion.

"Yes, I'm Prince, and you are?" I asked her. She nervously scoots herself out of the bar stool and straightens her black skirt.

"Hello, Mr. Nelson, I'm Grace Queen. I'm y-your new cook," she stammers while holding out her hand. I look down at it and notice even her hand is beautiful.  I gently grab it and shake it.

"How long have you been here, Ms. Queen? And, where the hell is Jerome?" I snap causing her to jump.

"I've been here for about ten minutes, and Jerome said he needed to go to the security house, a problem came up," she tells me and I roll my eyes thinking Jerome did this on purpose to give me and my new cook some time alone.

"Oh, well, I'm starving. What will you be cooking for me, Ms. Queen? And, it better be to my liking, or else,-"

"Prince," Jerome shouts from behind me.

"Jerome, what was the problem at the security house?"

"Umm, nothing for you to worry about, everything is taken care of. Ms. Queen, we will leave you to make your breakfast pizza. Prince and I will be in the living room if you need anything," he tells her as he's dragging me in the living room.

"Damn it, Jerome, let go of my arm. And, what the hell is breakfast pizza? It better be amazing, having me wanting more, or she is out of here."

"That's exactly why I dragged you in here, P. She already looks nervous enough without you  causing her to run out of here crying."

"You know I have the ability to fire your annoying ass, Jerome," I snap. He smirks and leans back on the sofa.

"You and I both know you won't fire me. If you fire me and hire someone else, they will beat your annoying short ass to death."

"Very funny, not."

"P, just please, at least give the poor girl a chance to prove she can cook, and she can impress you. I'm not asking you to marry her, just give her a chance to prove herself. She spent six years in culinary school, and before that, her great grandpa taught her how to cook southern style."

"Southern style, but she's white, Jerome."

"So? You think white people can't cook southern style? Okay maybe not a lot, but P, I'm telling you, she is one hell of a cook."

"How do you know how good of a cook she is, Jerome?"

"Because, the day I interviewed her, she cooked me her chicken and dumplings, and let me tell you, they are better than my granny's chicken and dumplings, god rest her soul."

"No way, Jerome. I've had your granny's chicken and dumplings. There is no way Grace's chicken and dumpling are better than hers," I refuse to believe him. He smiles and chuckles.

"Well, you have the last word whether or not she's hired, if you hire her, ask her to cook her chicken and dumplings for dinner," he chuckles. I stand up and make my way back into the kitchen. I see her rubbing an ointment on her arm. I see a small black and purple bruise.

"Are you alright, what happen to your arm?" I ask with a concerned tone. She snaps her head back and quickly covers her arm with her shirt sleeve.

"Umm, yeah, I'm fine. I tend to be a little on the clutsy  side," she tries to assure me, but I'm not sure if I believe her. I let it slide and make my way over to her.

"I need to get the  breakfast pizza out of the oven." She grabs the oven mittens and pulls out the round tray and sits it on a towel on the island.

"Well, I have to admit, it does smell, and looks good, but I now need to taste test it," I say as I grab a paper plate. She is standing there looking  extremely nervous. I bring it up to my mouth and blow on it.

"Well, what do you think?" She nervously asks me. Before I can stop myself, I slightly smile in approval. She smiles back at me in relief.

"I would be lying if I said I don't like it. It taste amazing, Grace. You're hired," I say and see a bigger and more beautiful smile on her beautiful face.

"Thank you, Mr. Nelson."

"Yeah, abut you calling me Mr. Nelson, I want you to call me Prince, okay?"

"Okay, Prince."

"Oh, and by the way Grace, I want you to cook your chicken and dumpling for dinner tonight."

"Sure, I take it Jerome told you about them?"

"Yes, he did, and he said they're better than his granny's, so I hope he's right. You have already impressed me with your breakfast pizza, now let's see if you can impress me with your chicken and dumplings. And, one other thing, and please don't be offended by this, but you're white."

"Umm, yes, I am white, is that a problem?"

"What, no, of course it's not a problem. I'm just curious how you became such a great southern cook."

"Oh, well, I spent six years in culinary school, and before that, my great grandfather taught me how to cook, and there were a few black family's that lived in our neighborhood, they also taught me how to cook," she says and I'm impressed she accepts another race beside her own.

"Oh, well, okay then.  Looking forward to tasting your chicken and dumplings," I reply and make my way back to the living room.

"Well, how is her breakfast pizza, P?"

"Damn you, Jerome. Did you have to go and hire a cook that looks like her? Shit, this is gonna be so damn hard. I can see a lot of cold showers in my near future," I hiss causing him to laugh.

"I'll give it a month."

"You'll give what a month, Jerome?"

"You, you're about to fall hard for the new cook."

"You're insane. I will never go down that road again. I don't care how beautiful she is, she's a woman and I ban all women from my life, well, except for them working for me. Even if I do get her in my bed, she will never be in my heart."