“I do, for the most part, but it’s mostly for convenience. I don’t have time to cook like I want to.”
“Well, thank you for this. It really is amazing. My mother made an amazing risotto, but she never taught me.”
“Maybe I can show you one day.”
My eyes lifted to his across the table, the first hint of our conversation to come settling between us. His full lips slid across his fork, and his sharp jaw flexed under the thick scruff he wore so well.
With the sunset behind him, his dark eyes held none of the glints of hazel I’d seen before. They looked so deep I could get lost in them if I went too far.
I dropped my gaze back to my plate, trying to ignore the warm rush in my chest. He may have been relaxed, but we met on his turf. I needed to treat this like a business meeting on enemy territory. If the last day taught me anything, it was that I needed to stand on my own. I needed to let go of the fairy tales and hope that it’d all work out.
Conversation died a quick death after his comment. I avoided eye contact, and the longer the meal dragged on, the more worried I became that he really would say he’d made a mistake and fire me. Maybe I read his comment wrong.
From the corner of my eyes, I watched him calmly set his napkin across his plate and lean back in his chair. I didn’t have to look up to know his eyes were on me. I felt them, like a burning touch—like a whisper urging me to look up and face the truth.
Shit. He was going to fire me. Why couldn’t he have just let me walk out last night?
I held my breath, but when spots danced in front of my eyes, I let it all rush out and sat up, lifting my chin, ready to conquer the situation no matter what it held. “Look, if you’re going to fire me, then just do it. I was drunk, and you were shocked. I understand if you changed your mind. You don’t need to soften the blow with dinner and wine.”
His lips tipped softly as if he found my rant amusing.
When he still didn’t say anything, I slapped my napkin down and waited. “Well?”
“I wasn’t wining and dining you to soften a blow. I was just hungry and thought we could eat before talking about anything too serious.”
“Oh…” Back to being the eloquent graduate from Wharton. Awesome. “So, you still mean what you offered?”
“Yes.”
Our eyes locked as if waiting for the other to flinch first. In the end, it was me because one question burned that I couldn’t figure out in all of it.
“Why? Obviously, I get out of a marriage to a monster. But, then again…” I hesitated, considering something for the first time. “What if I’m just jumping from the frying pan into the fire, aligning myself with another monster?”
“I assure you, I’m not. Camden is…” The muscle in his jaw ticked as he assessed his words before speaking. “Less than savory in this world.”
I scoffed. “Yeah. So, back to my question. What do you get?”
His tongue slid across his lips, and I became dazed with the simple action. “For one, I don’t like Camden. I can admit taking you from him has its own appeal.” He shrugged, unapologetic. But then he sat taller and ran a hand through his hair like that was the simplest of reasons. Prickling awareness tickled down my spine and whispered that maybe he got more out of this than he was admitting. However, it quickly dashed away when he shrugged again, his shoulders softening. “Also, it’s convenient. My grandfather is ill, and my only living family. It could do him good to see me with someone—he’s asked for it enough. I want to make him happy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you.”
“It still seems like not enough reason to marry someone,” I said slowly. I didn’t want to talk him out of it, but I couldn’t believe someone like Nico would marry a woman out of the kindness of his heart.
He worked his jaw back and forth, taking a deep breath. “There are many events, and having a wife at my side makes me look more stable.”
“And there’s no other woman you could offer to marry to be by your side?”
He smirked, looking down to where he twisted his wine glass by the base. “I’m sure there are, but having one who understands the business adds a tally in your column.”
“Lucky me.”
“Also, as you know, this industry can be small, despite being so large. I can admit that having a Mariano as my wife would open K. Rush to a lot more opportunities.”
“Fair enough.”
The conversation dwindled again, and we entered into another pseudo staring contest. Again, I caved first.