“Yes, I liked it,” I say in a low voice. “It was fun.”
“Good,” he replies with a wink. “Because I liked it too.” Then, he leans over and kisses my forehead before turning back to his breakfast. “How are your pancakes?”
“They’re amazing, thank you again,” I say before slathering on a ton of butter. “Did you make these from a mix?”
Paul shakes his head and positively beams.
“Nope, from scratch. Aunt Jemima’s got nothing on me.”
Then I giggle before shooting him a look.
“So are you really Marley’s brother in law?”
He nods but then shakes his head.
“Sort of. She’s married to my cousin Justin, so not exactly. But Just and I are practically brothers because we grew up together and are incredibly close.”
“Oh, you were the best man at their wedding, weren’t you?” I exclaim. “I remember.”
“Yep, that was me. Did you like my drunken speech?” he chuckles at the memory. Truth be told, I don’t remember much of anything he said because I had my fair share of free drinks at the bar that night as well. I do remember thinking he was super cute though! Who would have thought just over a year later I’d be eating breakfast in his robe?
“Are you kidding, you did great!” I smile.
“Yeah well, I think it’s best I don’t quit my day job any time soon. Public speaking isn’t my forte,” he jokes.
“What is your day job anyways?” I ask curiously.
Paul not-so-modestly grins.
“Well, since you’re asking, I’m the CEO of NYC Repo. My cousin Justin used to be the head honcho but he stepped down after getting married to focus on family.”
I nod.
“Wow, that’s an impressive job. I imagine it can be pretty stressful though, right?”
Paul smiles and takes another bite of pancake.
“Yeah sometimes, but it sounds harder than it is. Justin got the place up and running, so now all I have to do is drive. Besides, I’m mostly a paperwork guy,” he says. “That, and excel worksheets. And don’t forget, there’s also payroll and taxes, you know, all the glamorous stuff.”
I laugh a little ruefully.
“To be honest, I’d love to be doing paperwork,” I say with a telling look. “City Girls is getting old and I’d love to sit at a desk most of the day.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” His words catch me off guard. “It gets old quick, not to mention the carpal tunnel and lack of sunlight. Besides, you don’t strike me as a paper-work kind of gal, Nella. Now be honest: what do you really want to do?”
I stare into his blue eyes for a moment, surprised. How is he able to read me so well? But then I smile.
“I’m an illustrator at heart. At least, that’s what I went to school for because I love drawing, painting, and anything artistic.”
He nods.
“That sounds great. So what’s stopping you from pursuing your dream?”
I sigh and look down at my plate.
“Well, I’m trying, it’s just that I’m not getting much traction. I’ve sold some of my illustrations to various publications, but that’s all, and it’s not nearly enough to pay my rent. Hence, City Girls. I’d love to be able to make ends meet with my art alone, but so far, it’s been really hard. It’s a bit of a dilemma, actually. In order to build my portfolio, I need to dedicate more effort to my art, but at the same time, I need to work in order to pay my bills. And I’m just so tired after my nights out with clients, that sadly, my art has taken back burner status.”
Paul looks thoughtful.
“Well, can I help somehow?” he asks. “Do you need money?”
“No, no,” I say blushing. “I wasn’t hinting at that.”
He smiles.
“I know you weren’t, Nella. But I want to help.” Suddenly, he grows serious, those black brows drawing together. “I like you Nella and I want to date you for real. Clearly that means you need to stop going out on City Girls assignations, and if you need money to stop working, then I’ll provide it. It’s as simple as that. I’m a wealthy man and it’s not a problem.”
Wow, the CEO moves fast, I think to myself. But it feels good, and I smile.
“Oh, I see.”
Paul continues.
“I’ll give you a weekly allowance, and this way you don’t have to work for City Girls anymore. How does that sound?”
The proposition has me gasping.
“I can’t accept that because you don’t know me! I can’t let you just give me money for nothing.”
He shakes his head, explaining the situation.
“No, it’s fine, honey. I’m rich, and honestly, the money’s not an issue. If it makes you happy, and also gives you time to focus on your art, then it’s a win-win in my book. How about it?” I’m about to say no, but he continues. “I’ll start you off with five grand a week. Would that be enough, sweetie? Or do you need more?”