The art of awkward affec.., p.22
The Art of Awkward Affection: A Romantic Comedy, page 22
“Good boy, and did you bring Crumpet a present?”
“I brought you a present.”
“Best kindness buddy ever.”
He took my hand in his larger one.
“That’s why I didn’t want you in the suitcase. I didn’t want you to see your present. I couldn’t wrap it because of customs. They think that just because I’m a billionaire I’m trying to smuggle gold bars or something into the US.”
“Little did they know you had your most expensive asset hidden in your pants,” I said, sneaking my hand down because, well what was the point of sleeping with a hot billionaire if you couldn’t cop a feel when you wanted?
Grayson sat up, slowly cradling me in his arms.
“You might want to take a bath,” he hinted.
“If I smell weird, it’s because you were drinking too much coffee and your cum smells weird and got all over me,” I informed him.
Grayson gave me a horrified look.
“My roommate is kind of a sexpert.”
“Is this the elderly woman who gives hand jobs for wine?”
“That’s the one! If I’m ever out of town, I’ll send her by to keep you well taken care of.” I waggled my eyebrows.
“Please God, spare me.”
I climbed off of him, my legs only trembling a little bit, and padded into the bathroom.
It wasn’t like the cramped porta potty of a bathroom in the studio apartment. This one had its own floor-to-ceiling window.
“Manhattan, I am no longer a virgin,” I declared in front of the window as the steaming water filled the tub.
The bathroom was legit larger than the studio apartment. Could use some plants and some art though.
I was slipping under the hot water when Grayson came back upstairs.
“All the way from Paris,” he said tossing a small pink ball into the giant tub.
I clapped my hands in delight when it started to bubble and fizz up.
“This is not from Marshalls. This is a fancy bath bomb.”
“Champagne?” Grayson handed me a glass.
“Oui!”
“And,” he said, handing me a slightly smashed croissant and a wedge of soft cheese, “this is from the most popular bakery in town. I was there first thing, and the old lady working there said I was hot and gave me two.”
“Of course she did!” I snapped the waistband of the silky black boxer briefs he was wearing.
“Gimme!” I took a big bite of the croissant. “You really gave me a workout; I’m starving.”
Gizzy, the smell of food awakening him from his nap, scuttled out of the shower and jumped into the tub with a splash.
“You brought your iguana?” Grayson practically yelled.
“I needed moral support,” I argued. “I didn’t know what I was walking into.”
I held the plate and a flute of champagne over my head.
“Gizzy, down,” I told the iguana as he climbed on me for the food then fell into the tub with a splash.
Grayson scooped Gizzy out of the water.
“It’s okay. Iguanas can swim.”
“Get out. You’re going to make people sick,” Grayson told the iguana as he set him down. “I’m glad I only have a pet rock.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t get Crumpet a present.” I sighed. “We clearly have more work to do on you.”
Grayson held up a finger, then he swept his arm in front of me.
On his open palm sat Crumpet in all his gray rocky glory, and on top of his head was a little red beret.
42
GRAYSON
As stupid as I thought it was to buy a present for a pet rock, it was worth it for Lexi’s reaction.
“Aww, Grayson!” She kicked her feet in the water and giggled. “This is adorable.”
She pulled me down for a kiss, and I deepened it, needing her. She was a balm for my soul. I wanted to tell her, make her understand, that she was my entire world.
Even though I wanted to propose marriage to her right then and there so she would be with me forever, her smile, her laugh, the bright vibrant light of her, I couldn’t come on that strong. It would drive her away.
“You had a very successful trip. I approve.”
“We did ink the deal, and the European energy cabinet didn’t veto it.”
“I’m glad you were able to get some work done around all that shopping and sightseeing.” She snickered as I splashed her with water.
It was a perfect moment, and I wanted to hold onto it forever.
Yet my past would never let me be free.
The chime on my watch sounded.
“Oh,” Lexi said when my face fell. “It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?”
“I need to get dressed.” I stood up with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll come with you,” she offered, pulling herself up from the mound of bubbles.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want them to give me more free cake.”
I held up a towel for her, wrapping her in it.
“So snuggly,” she purred. “It could almost double as a rug, hint, hint. My feet are freezing.”
“They are?” I picked her up while she laughed, and carried her into the bedroom.
“Do you need a hair dryer or anything?” I asked.
“A hair dryer is kryptonite for someone with my kind of curls. My hair and I have reached an uneasy truce. I leave it alone, and it tries not to go too far on the clown spectrum when I’m at work.”
“I like your hair,” I told her honestly.
“Did you just give me a compliment, Grayson?” Her eyes shone.
“Maybe.”
She clapped her hands. “Kindness buddies for the win!”
“I think I want to be a little more than your kindness buddy,” I said, dipping my head down to press my mouth to hers.
“Fine. We will be kindness fuck buddies.”
“I feel like I’m a bad influence on you,” I said as I went into my closet to select a suit to wear to the restaurant. “You didn’t used to swear.” I buttoned up my dress shirt.
“Didn’t used to swear, didn’t used to have sex, didn’t use to squat in my boss’s apartment.”
“Penthouse.” I smirked.
“Ego,” she retorted.
When I came out of the closet, fastening my cuff links, Lexi was tucking her shirt into her skirt.
“I hope there’s not a dress code at Alessio.” She wrinkled her nose. “You should have brought me something decent to wear from Paris, especially since you keep ripping my clothes up.”
“It’s not my fault that women’s clothes are so poorly made,” I argued as I deftly knotted my tie. “In my defense, I was going to buy you a new outfit, but they don’t sell things for big Americans in France.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Grayson Richmond.”
I held up my hands. “First off, your tits look better than anything I saw walking around Paris, so God bless America. Also, I went to a boutique to find you a scarf or something, and the sales clerks acted like a yeti had just walked in. When they found out I was American, they demanded to know if all I ate was beef, corn, and steroids.”
“I’m starving,” Lexi said. “Hurry up.” She grabbed my hand, tugging me as we approached the restaurant.
“We have to wait and make sure she’s at her table,” I said, dropping my voice and stopping Lexi. “She can’t see me.” Normally I had a whole system for sneaking into the restaurant—hiding my face with my phone, turning up the collar of my coat if it was the colder months.
I wondered if it was a mistake to bring Lexi with me. What had I been thinking? The last time she’d almost ruined the lunch.
However, I didn’t want to not be around her. I craved her presence, and a part of me had been contemplating perhaps for once forgoing the Tuesday lunch in favor of staying with Lexi.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go in,” I said urgently. “This is crazy, right? You think this is crazy, what I’m doing.”
Lexi gave me a look, but it was more empathy than pity.
“Sometimes when I’m homesick, I Google Street View my parents’ house. And I can just call them up any time day or night, and if I really wanted to push it, they would be on a plane to come visit me if they thought I needed a pick-me-up.”
She raised her shoulders then lowered them.
“I don’t know what I’d do in your position, but it would probably be something way more obtrusive.”
“Thanks.”
“Full disclosure, I’m super biased because I really need that free food, sooo …”
“It’s become an entitlement, I see.” My mouth formed a crooked smile.
Lexi gestured me down and took a few paces so she was in view of the restaurant. “Looks like she’s seated. Coast is clear. Move out, team.”
She positioned herself on my left.
“You’re too short to block anyone’s view,” I hissed at her as we walked into the restaurant.
“Just pretend you’re whispering sweet nothings in my ear,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “The humidity is terrible today, and my hair adds an extra six inches. If we’re going to regularly be boinking, I’m going to need to keep an emergency supply of hair clips and scrunchies in your swanky bathroom because my hair is a disaster. Also, please invest in some silk pillowcases.”
“I thought you wanted me to get a rug,” I whispered as we waited for the hostess.
“I want a lot of things for you, but I’m trying to meet you where you’re at.”
The hostess was too well trained in fine dining to act surprised when she saw me there with Lexi.
“Table for two?”
Lexi took a breath.
“The bar please,” I said quickly.
“Right this way.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually eating inside here.” Lexi was giddy. “I hope they have cake.”
“They always have cake,” I assured her.
I watched her fumble around on the barstool, jumping as she tried to get on it. When finally she was half climbing up the shoe rail on the bar, I picked her up around the waist and set her on the barstool.
“I was going to get up there eventually.”
“I decided to spare both of us the pain.”
I settled in my usual spot and checked the mirror. My mother and her new family—her real family—were happily passing the bread basket around.
“I love this herb butter,” my mother was saying to her father.
The first time I had seen them, when I’d inadvertently been at the restaurant for a business lunch years ago, her father’s eyes had held so much pain. Today, the pain was still there, but it seemed to have lessened somewhat, or maybe it was wishful thinking on my part.
I didn’t have children, didn’t know if I trusted myself to have children, but if I did and what happened to my mother happened to my child, I wouldn’t have been able to bear it.
“He doesn’t seem any worse for the wear,” Lexi was saying to Matt, the bartender, when I turned my attention back to them, wishing I hadn’t come, wishing I hadn’t dragged Lexi into this horrible swamp of maladaptive coping.
“It’s bad training,” Matt said as he expertly measured liquor. “People think that just because they’re iguanas they can’t be trained, but it’s not true.”
“Gizzy knows commands. He can do down and stay.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said to her. “You can barely control that thing.”
“He’s leash trained, and he doesn’t run off like Marshmallow did at the iguana meetup.”
Matt sat a martini on the bar top.
“Do you have an iguana?” Matt asked me.
“He has a pet rock,” Lexi said proudly. “His name is Crumpet, and Grayson takes very good care of him and even brought him a little hat back from Paris. I should have taken a picture. It was so adorable.”
I made a strangled noise.
“You look like you need a drink,” Lexi said, sliding the martini across the bar to me.
I opened my mouth to protest then thought, what the hell. We were talking about iguanas and my pet rock. I took a long sip of the martini.
“Our mysterious owner becomes even more of an enigma,” Matt joked.
Lexi’s eyes bugged out.
“You own this restaurant?” she squealed.
“Shhh.” I put two fingers to her mouth.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said in a stage whisper. “You didn’t tell me you owned this place.”
Matt was looking between us with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.
“He did us a good turn.”
“Please don’t mention it,” I said.
“No, no, go on,” Lexi said, resting her head on a closed fist. “It was a dark and stormy night …”
“Afternoon,” I corrected.
“Right,” Matt said, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “The restaurant was about to go under. It’s my uncle’s place, his pride and joy. Opening a restaurant was always his dream, and he was so upset when the building owner kept raising rents. Mr. Richmond comes in wearing a long black trench coat.”
I shook my head at the dramatization.
“My whole family is crying. You know Italian Americans, we can’t resist a good world-is-ending panic. Mr. Richmond frowns then says, ‘I’ll save you.’”
“Be still my heart,” Lexi exclaimed.
“Just like that, Mr. Richmond buys the building and the restaurant, and now we run it. Life is good, and my uncle is happy. Mr. Richmond won’t even let us give him free food.”
“Stealing from the restaurant you own is a terrible way to run a business,” I said gruffly.
“Bread basket is on the house,” Matt set the basket of warm bread and a small white plate of herb butter in front of us. “Excuse me, artisanal bakery selection with our house-made herb butter,” he corrected when an older man harrumphed pointedly from the kitchen.
“I never get the bread,” I told him.
“You never get the free bread?” Lexi was appalled. “You mean I could have had free bread and butter this whole time?”
Matt set a toxic-looking cloudy blue concoction in front of Lexi and spooned a dollop of foamy white stuff on top.
“Is that raw egg?”
“Drink your martini.” Lexi patted me on the hand.
“We served these on the Disney cruise, and no one was ever sick. It’s classic to put foamed egg white on cocktails,” she said, taking a sip. “Very popular drink. There’s also a mocktail version.”
She broke off a piece of the bread and swiped it in the butter then smiled at me. “Saving a beloved restaurant. I knew you were a good person.”
She stoked my jaw then leaned in to kiss me.
“I’m not,” I told her. “This is my mother’s favorite place, and she comes here every week. I didn’t want her to lose something that gave her so much happiness.”
“See?” Lexi said softly, squeezing my hand. “Good person.”
She picked up the menu. “I need to decide what to eat. Pasta, the duck, these crab-stuffed tortellini look amazing. What’s your favorite, Grayson?”
“I never eat here, just that one business lunch, and I don’t remember what I had.”
“I see those sad meals your chef prepares for you,” she said. “Baked unseasoned chicken breast, more kale than anyone should be forced to eat.”
“It’s healthy,” I said, breaking off a piece of the bread.
“Dip it in the butter,” Lexi insisted as I lifted my hand. “Dip it.”
I swiped it in the butter.
“We’re ordering the burrata with the winter squash and pesto vinaigrette, the scallops and gnocchi,” Lexi said, running her finger down the menu, “and the truffle risotto. That was amazing the last time you bought it, and I have been praying for your hand to be guided the next time you were at Alessio.”
“You didn’t want to just leave me a note?” I teased, lightly bumping my knee against hers.
“My notes are supposed to brighten your day,” she said primly, “not make selfish requests.”
“Someone told me that kindness was self-care.”
“Speaking of self-care,” she said, “how do you like your terrace?”
I gave her a confused look.
“All your new patio furniture arrived, that apparently you didn’t notice.”
“I was distracted,” I murmured against her neck.
“We’re using it tonight,” she declared.
“So you can try to burn down my penthouse again?”
“We’re making s’mores tonight.” She grabbed my tie. “And watching movies. I’m making popcorn.”
“I need to work.”
“You just had a huge successful trip,” she cried, “and you gave all your employees who went on it the next few days off to recover.”
“Yes, because they’re my employees.”
“Have you ever even used that movie theater?”
“I don’t have a movie theater.” I took a sip of my drink.
“You don’t—What the—Yes, you do!” Her voice rose.
I shushed her with a kiss.
“You have one. I’ve been in it, and we’re watching 101 Dalmatians,” she whispered.
I frowned and pulled up the plans to the penthouse on my phone while Lexi rattled off the menu selections to Matt.
“Can we get another round too?” Lexi asked, pointing to the glasses.
“Coming right up. I’ll bring the plates out as the chef prepares them,” Matt promised her.
“I ordered fried calamari,” Lexi informed me. “You can’t eat that leftover. I don’t care how good your air fryer is.”
“Apparently I do have a home theater room,” I admitted to her, putting away my phone. “You’re right.”
She gave me an assessing look. “You know, when I first got the job, I seriously debated secretly moving into your penthouse. But then I thought you might eventually notice. Glad to know that you’re not observant.”
“I’m observant,” I protested.
“How many times this week did I wear this outfit?” she countered.
“Trick question. I wasn’t in the office this week.”
“Okay, last week.”
“I don’t remember what you were wearing last week. Except for my shirt, which you were wearing when you called me.” I nuzzled her neck. “You don’t remember what I was wearing.”
“I brought you a present.”
“Best kindness buddy ever.”
He took my hand in his larger one.
“That’s why I didn’t want you in the suitcase. I didn’t want you to see your present. I couldn’t wrap it because of customs. They think that just because I’m a billionaire I’m trying to smuggle gold bars or something into the US.”
“Little did they know you had your most expensive asset hidden in your pants,” I said, sneaking my hand down because, well what was the point of sleeping with a hot billionaire if you couldn’t cop a feel when you wanted?
Grayson sat up, slowly cradling me in his arms.
“You might want to take a bath,” he hinted.
“If I smell weird, it’s because you were drinking too much coffee and your cum smells weird and got all over me,” I informed him.
Grayson gave me a horrified look.
“My roommate is kind of a sexpert.”
“Is this the elderly woman who gives hand jobs for wine?”
“That’s the one! If I’m ever out of town, I’ll send her by to keep you well taken care of.” I waggled my eyebrows.
“Please God, spare me.”
I climbed off of him, my legs only trembling a little bit, and padded into the bathroom.
It wasn’t like the cramped porta potty of a bathroom in the studio apartment. This one had its own floor-to-ceiling window.
“Manhattan, I am no longer a virgin,” I declared in front of the window as the steaming water filled the tub.
The bathroom was legit larger than the studio apartment. Could use some plants and some art though.
I was slipping under the hot water when Grayson came back upstairs.
“All the way from Paris,” he said tossing a small pink ball into the giant tub.
I clapped my hands in delight when it started to bubble and fizz up.
“This is not from Marshalls. This is a fancy bath bomb.”
“Champagne?” Grayson handed me a glass.
“Oui!”
“And,” he said, handing me a slightly smashed croissant and a wedge of soft cheese, “this is from the most popular bakery in town. I was there first thing, and the old lady working there said I was hot and gave me two.”
“Of course she did!” I snapped the waistband of the silky black boxer briefs he was wearing.
“Gimme!” I took a big bite of the croissant. “You really gave me a workout; I’m starving.”
Gizzy, the smell of food awakening him from his nap, scuttled out of the shower and jumped into the tub with a splash.
“You brought your iguana?” Grayson practically yelled.
“I needed moral support,” I argued. “I didn’t know what I was walking into.”
I held the plate and a flute of champagne over my head.
“Gizzy, down,” I told the iguana as he climbed on me for the food then fell into the tub with a splash.
Grayson scooped Gizzy out of the water.
“It’s okay. Iguanas can swim.”
“Get out. You’re going to make people sick,” Grayson told the iguana as he set him down. “I’m glad I only have a pet rock.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t get Crumpet a present.” I sighed. “We clearly have more work to do on you.”
Grayson held up a finger, then he swept his arm in front of me.
On his open palm sat Crumpet in all his gray rocky glory, and on top of his head was a little red beret.
42
GRAYSON
As stupid as I thought it was to buy a present for a pet rock, it was worth it for Lexi’s reaction.
“Aww, Grayson!” She kicked her feet in the water and giggled. “This is adorable.”
She pulled me down for a kiss, and I deepened it, needing her. She was a balm for my soul. I wanted to tell her, make her understand, that she was my entire world.
Even though I wanted to propose marriage to her right then and there so she would be with me forever, her smile, her laugh, the bright vibrant light of her, I couldn’t come on that strong. It would drive her away.
“You had a very successful trip. I approve.”
“We did ink the deal, and the European energy cabinet didn’t veto it.”
“I’m glad you were able to get some work done around all that shopping and sightseeing.” She snickered as I splashed her with water.
It was a perfect moment, and I wanted to hold onto it forever.
Yet my past would never let me be free.
The chime on my watch sounded.
“Oh,” Lexi said when my face fell. “It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?”
“I need to get dressed.” I stood up with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll come with you,” she offered, pulling herself up from the mound of bubbles.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want them to give me more free cake.”
I held up a towel for her, wrapping her in it.
“So snuggly,” she purred. “It could almost double as a rug, hint, hint. My feet are freezing.”
“They are?” I picked her up while she laughed, and carried her into the bedroom.
“Do you need a hair dryer or anything?” I asked.
“A hair dryer is kryptonite for someone with my kind of curls. My hair and I have reached an uneasy truce. I leave it alone, and it tries not to go too far on the clown spectrum when I’m at work.”
“I like your hair,” I told her honestly.
“Did you just give me a compliment, Grayson?” Her eyes shone.
“Maybe.”
She clapped her hands. “Kindness buddies for the win!”
“I think I want to be a little more than your kindness buddy,” I said, dipping my head down to press my mouth to hers.
“Fine. We will be kindness fuck buddies.”
“I feel like I’m a bad influence on you,” I said as I went into my closet to select a suit to wear to the restaurant. “You didn’t used to swear.” I buttoned up my dress shirt.
“Didn’t used to swear, didn’t used to have sex, didn’t use to squat in my boss’s apartment.”
“Penthouse.” I smirked.
“Ego,” she retorted.
When I came out of the closet, fastening my cuff links, Lexi was tucking her shirt into her skirt.
“I hope there’s not a dress code at Alessio.” She wrinkled her nose. “You should have brought me something decent to wear from Paris, especially since you keep ripping my clothes up.”
“It’s not my fault that women’s clothes are so poorly made,” I argued as I deftly knotted my tie. “In my defense, I was going to buy you a new outfit, but they don’t sell things for big Americans in France.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Grayson Richmond.”
I held up my hands. “First off, your tits look better than anything I saw walking around Paris, so God bless America. Also, I went to a boutique to find you a scarf or something, and the sales clerks acted like a yeti had just walked in. When they found out I was American, they demanded to know if all I ate was beef, corn, and steroids.”
“I’m starving,” Lexi said. “Hurry up.” She grabbed my hand, tugging me as we approached the restaurant.
“We have to wait and make sure she’s at her table,” I said, dropping my voice and stopping Lexi. “She can’t see me.” Normally I had a whole system for sneaking into the restaurant—hiding my face with my phone, turning up the collar of my coat if it was the colder months.
I wondered if it was a mistake to bring Lexi with me. What had I been thinking? The last time she’d almost ruined the lunch.
However, I didn’t want to not be around her. I craved her presence, and a part of me had been contemplating perhaps for once forgoing the Tuesday lunch in favor of staying with Lexi.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go in,” I said urgently. “This is crazy, right? You think this is crazy, what I’m doing.”
Lexi gave me a look, but it was more empathy than pity.
“Sometimes when I’m homesick, I Google Street View my parents’ house. And I can just call them up any time day or night, and if I really wanted to push it, they would be on a plane to come visit me if they thought I needed a pick-me-up.”
She raised her shoulders then lowered them.
“I don’t know what I’d do in your position, but it would probably be something way more obtrusive.”
“Thanks.”
“Full disclosure, I’m super biased because I really need that free food, sooo …”
“It’s become an entitlement, I see.” My mouth formed a crooked smile.
Lexi gestured me down and took a few paces so she was in view of the restaurant. “Looks like she’s seated. Coast is clear. Move out, team.”
She positioned herself on my left.
“You’re too short to block anyone’s view,” I hissed at her as we walked into the restaurant.
“Just pretend you’re whispering sweet nothings in my ear,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “The humidity is terrible today, and my hair adds an extra six inches. If we’re going to regularly be boinking, I’m going to need to keep an emergency supply of hair clips and scrunchies in your swanky bathroom because my hair is a disaster. Also, please invest in some silk pillowcases.”
“I thought you wanted me to get a rug,” I whispered as we waited for the hostess.
“I want a lot of things for you, but I’m trying to meet you where you’re at.”
The hostess was too well trained in fine dining to act surprised when she saw me there with Lexi.
“Table for two?”
Lexi took a breath.
“The bar please,” I said quickly.
“Right this way.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually eating inside here.” Lexi was giddy. “I hope they have cake.”
“They always have cake,” I assured her.
I watched her fumble around on the barstool, jumping as she tried to get on it. When finally she was half climbing up the shoe rail on the bar, I picked her up around the waist and set her on the barstool.
“I was going to get up there eventually.”
“I decided to spare both of us the pain.”
I settled in my usual spot and checked the mirror. My mother and her new family—her real family—were happily passing the bread basket around.
“I love this herb butter,” my mother was saying to her father.
The first time I had seen them, when I’d inadvertently been at the restaurant for a business lunch years ago, her father’s eyes had held so much pain. Today, the pain was still there, but it seemed to have lessened somewhat, or maybe it was wishful thinking on my part.
I didn’t have children, didn’t know if I trusted myself to have children, but if I did and what happened to my mother happened to my child, I wouldn’t have been able to bear it.
“He doesn’t seem any worse for the wear,” Lexi was saying to Matt, the bartender, when I turned my attention back to them, wishing I hadn’t come, wishing I hadn’t dragged Lexi into this horrible swamp of maladaptive coping.
“It’s bad training,” Matt said as he expertly measured liquor. “People think that just because they’re iguanas they can’t be trained, but it’s not true.”
“Gizzy knows commands. He can do down and stay.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said to her. “You can barely control that thing.”
“He’s leash trained, and he doesn’t run off like Marshmallow did at the iguana meetup.”
Matt sat a martini on the bar top.
“Do you have an iguana?” Matt asked me.
“He has a pet rock,” Lexi said proudly. “His name is Crumpet, and Grayson takes very good care of him and even brought him a little hat back from Paris. I should have taken a picture. It was so adorable.”
I made a strangled noise.
“You look like you need a drink,” Lexi said, sliding the martini across the bar to me.
I opened my mouth to protest then thought, what the hell. We were talking about iguanas and my pet rock. I took a long sip of the martini.
“Our mysterious owner becomes even more of an enigma,” Matt joked.
Lexi’s eyes bugged out.
“You own this restaurant?” she squealed.
“Shhh.” I put two fingers to her mouth.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said in a stage whisper. “You didn’t tell me you owned this place.”
Matt was looking between us with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.
“He did us a good turn.”
“Please don’t mention it,” I said.
“No, no, go on,” Lexi said, resting her head on a closed fist. “It was a dark and stormy night …”
“Afternoon,” I corrected.
“Right,” Matt said, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “The restaurant was about to go under. It’s my uncle’s place, his pride and joy. Opening a restaurant was always his dream, and he was so upset when the building owner kept raising rents. Mr. Richmond comes in wearing a long black trench coat.”
I shook my head at the dramatization.
“My whole family is crying. You know Italian Americans, we can’t resist a good world-is-ending panic. Mr. Richmond frowns then says, ‘I’ll save you.’”
“Be still my heart,” Lexi exclaimed.
“Just like that, Mr. Richmond buys the building and the restaurant, and now we run it. Life is good, and my uncle is happy. Mr. Richmond won’t even let us give him free food.”
“Stealing from the restaurant you own is a terrible way to run a business,” I said gruffly.
“Bread basket is on the house,” Matt set the basket of warm bread and a small white plate of herb butter in front of us. “Excuse me, artisanal bakery selection with our house-made herb butter,” he corrected when an older man harrumphed pointedly from the kitchen.
“I never get the bread,” I told him.
“You never get the free bread?” Lexi was appalled. “You mean I could have had free bread and butter this whole time?”
Matt set a toxic-looking cloudy blue concoction in front of Lexi and spooned a dollop of foamy white stuff on top.
“Is that raw egg?”
“Drink your martini.” Lexi patted me on the hand.
“We served these on the Disney cruise, and no one was ever sick. It’s classic to put foamed egg white on cocktails,” she said, taking a sip. “Very popular drink. There’s also a mocktail version.”
She broke off a piece of the bread and swiped it in the butter then smiled at me. “Saving a beloved restaurant. I knew you were a good person.”
She stoked my jaw then leaned in to kiss me.
“I’m not,” I told her. “This is my mother’s favorite place, and she comes here every week. I didn’t want her to lose something that gave her so much happiness.”
“See?” Lexi said softly, squeezing my hand. “Good person.”
She picked up the menu. “I need to decide what to eat. Pasta, the duck, these crab-stuffed tortellini look amazing. What’s your favorite, Grayson?”
“I never eat here, just that one business lunch, and I don’t remember what I had.”
“I see those sad meals your chef prepares for you,” she said. “Baked unseasoned chicken breast, more kale than anyone should be forced to eat.”
“It’s healthy,” I said, breaking off a piece of the bread.
“Dip it in the butter,” Lexi insisted as I lifted my hand. “Dip it.”
I swiped it in the butter.
“We’re ordering the burrata with the winter squash and pesto vinaigrette, the scallops and gnocchi,” Lexi said, running her finger down the menu, “and the truffle risotto. That was amazing the last time you bought it, and I have been praying for your hand to be guided the next time you were at Alessio.”
“You didn’t want to just leave me a note?” I teased, lightly bumping my knee against hers.
“My notes are supposed to brighten your day,” she said primly, “not make selfish requests.”
“Someone told me that kindness was self-care.”
“Speaking of self-care,” she said, “how do you like your terrace?”
I gave her a confused look.
“All your new patio furniture arrived, that apparently you didn’t notice.”
“I was distracted,” I murmured against her neck.
“We’re using it tonight,” she declared.
“So you can try to burn down my penthouse again?”
“We’re making s’mores tonight.” She grabbed my tie. “And watching movies. I’m making popcorn.”
“I need to work.”
“You just had a huge successful trip,” she cried, “and you gave all your employees who went on it the next few days off to recover.”
“Yes, because they’re my employees.”
“Have you ever even used that movie theater?”
“I don’t have a movie theater.” I took a sip of my drink.
“You don’t—What the—Yes, you do!” Her voice rose.
I shushed her with a kiss.
“You have one. I’ve been in it, and we’re watching 101 Dalmatians,” she whispered.
I frowned and pulled up the plans to the penthouse on my phone while Lexi rattled off the menu selections to Matt.
“Can we get another round too?” Lexi asked, pointing to the glasses.
“Coming right up. I’ll bring the plates out as the chef prepares them,” Matt promised her.
“I ordered fried calamari,” Lexi informed me. “You can’t eat that leftover. I don’t care how good your air fryer is.”
“Apparently I do have a home theater room,” I admitted to her, putting away my phone. “You’re right.”
She gave me an assessing look. “You know, when I first got the job, I seriously debated secretly moving into your penthouse. But then I thought you might eventually notice. Glad to know that you’re not observant.”
“I’m observant,” I protested.
“How many times this week did I wear this outfit?” she countered.
“Trick question. I wasn’t in the office this week.”
“Okay, last week.”
“I don’t remember what you were wearing last week. Except for my shirt, which you were wearing when you called me.” I nuzzled her neck. “You don’t remember what I was wearing.”
