The buzz of the intercom sounded, and she hurried over to answer.
“Miss Hawthorn, um, I mean Evangeline,” Edward hastily corrected. “Your food has arrived, but another gentleman is here to see you and has offered to bring the food up with him. Is that all right?”
“Is it Silas?” she questioned.
“Yes.”
“Then of course send him up and thank you again, Edward, for your patience and kindness. I appreciate it.”
“Any time, Evangeline. If there is anything I can ever do for you, let me know at once.”
She moved away from the intercom and then hastily went into the kitchen, not wanting to appear as though she were eagerly awaiting Silas’s arrival. Had he been assigned this particular duty or had he volunteered? She sighed, because did it really matter?
A brief longing hit her square in the chest because ever since she’d moved in with Drake, not one morning had she awakened in his arms. Every morning she woke alone, Drake long gone with only the prerequisite gift and a note. She’d give every single gift back just to have one morning when she woke with his arms snugly around her, and when she opened her eyes the first thing she saw was him.
“Evangeline? It’s Silas,” he called from the foyer.
“In the kitchen,” she called back.
He appeared a moment later carrying several takeout bags, an amused look on his face.
“You planning to feed an army?”
She grinned, relaxing. “I was hungry and everything sounded good, so I decided to order a little bit of everything and sample it all.”
He set the bags down and then reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of bills and three plastic cards.
“Drake asked me to drop these off for you.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, avoiding looking at the cash and cards he slid across the island.
Instead, she ignored them and began opening the bags as the tantalizing aroma rose, making her stomach growl in anticipation.
“Have you eaten yet?” she asked impulsively.
He looked perplexed. “No.”
“Well, as you can see, I have more than enough food for one. Would you like to join me for lunch? Or do you have other pressing matters to tend to?”
When he remained silent, looking as though he had no idea what to say to her invitation, she mentally groaned because damn it, she was forever blurting out stuff and clearly Silas was a busy man. All Drake’s men were, and she didn’t want Silas to now feel obligated to eat with her for fear of hurting her feelings.
“It’s okay if you have to run,” she said hastily. “You certainly won’t hurt my feelings. I wouldn’t want you to miss something important because you were appeasing me.”
“Not at all,” he said in a solemn voice. “I happen to love Asian food, so if you don’t mind sharing, I’d be honored to have lunch with you.”
She gave him a delighted smile and then took two plates from the cabinets along with utensils and serving spoons from the drawer. They took seats on the stools at the island, and she and Silas unpacked all the containers and the bags that held the appetizers.
“Ah, a woman after my own heart,” Silas said with an exaggerated sigh. “All my favorites. Teriyaki chicken skewers, crab rangoon, egg rolls and that’s only for starters. I can’t wait to see what entrées you ordered.”
“Pork lo mein, spicy, General Tso’s chicken with fried rice, Mongolian beef, kung pao beef, orange chicken and double pan-fried noodles, spicy of course. Oh, and pad see ew. As you can see, it’s not strictly Chinese. There’s some Thai dishes mixed in, so we get the best of both worlds.”
“I’ll take some of everything,” Silas said.
Evangeline laughed. “So will I. It’s the reason I ordered a bit of everything. When in doubt, go for it all.”
“I wholeheartedly agree.”
They filled their plates to the point of overflowing and then dug in with relish. Silas appeared to enjoy his every bit as much as Evangeline enjoyed hers. It was absolute heaven. It had been months since she’d splurged on her favorite takeout, and she felt decadently indulged where just weeks before she would have felt enormously guilty over such an extravagance.
“These are the best egg rolls,” Evangeline said, nearly moaning with delight. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a better one. I need to have this restaurant on speed dial. I have a feeling I’ll be ordering takeout at least once a week.”
“You act as though this is a luxury,” Silas observed, watching her intently.
She ducked her head and flushed, embarrassment tightening her cheeks.
“My apologies,” Silas said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
She shook her head. “I’m being ridiculously sensitive. But you’re right. It is—or rather was—a luxury. One that I couldn’t often afford. I work, or rather worked, long hours to make as much money as possible so I could send it home to my parents, who desperately need all the financial support they can get. I kept back only what was absolutely necessary to pay rent, utilities and groceries. Eating out, even takeout, was an extravagance I simply couldn’t afford. I just couldn’t justify it when my parents’ need is so great. So I bought off-brand groceries and cooked for the most part because not eating out meant more money I could send to my parents each week. So yes. You could say this is next to heaven and I plan to stuff myself so full that I’ll likely be sick afterward, but at the moment I just don’t care.”