“Ah, well… given that you’re out of a job, and it’s at least my fault, I thought I’d pick you up a little something for dinner. You know, just to save you the dough,” I stare at him for a moment, before suddenly realizing my mouth is open.
“You what?”
Roger looks terrified for a moment, like he’s about to get yelled at.
“I… I didn’t mean to presume or anything, I just —”
“No, no, you idiot, I’m not mad. I’m just…”
I break off for a moment. The exhaustion of rejection and the constant whirlwind of my life feel like it’s compounding against this wonderful act of kindness. I feel like crying.
“I’m just grateful… is all. Thank you.”
Relief washes over Roger as he moves the bag toward me.
“Well. Uh,bon appétit. I hope you like it —”
He starts to head for the door, and now it’s my turn to look worried.
“Wait, where are you going?”
Roger stops and looks at me, surprised.
“Well, I was gonna head out. I didn’t want to tie up your night, or cramp your style, or anything. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t eat on your own.”
Tying up my night sounds damn near fantastic. I’ll bet we can use his tie, as a matter of fact.
I saunter over to him slowly and let my fingertips walk up his lapel to his chin. “Stay.”
He takes a deep breath and stares at my parted lips.
“Yes, ma’am,” he grins and reaches for me.
“Wait,” I put a hand on his chest, and he gives me a suspicious look. I turn around and head to the windows, closing each of the blinds.
“Can’t be too careful, not with all these pictures showing up,” I say bitterly and he nods as he joins me.
“I suppose we don’t want a repeat of last time,” Roger grunts as he pulls the last blind closed. I watch him smirk and catch his eye. “Well, actuallymuchof that night bears repeating, just not the picture-taking —” I press a finger to his lips, and he bites the tip.
“If you’re hungry, let’s eat,” I laugh and walk over to the food. “It smells heavenly.”
Roger’s face lights up with satisfaction as he moves through the kitchen to grab plates and bowls.
It’s utterly endearing. He’s plating everything, and quite beautifully, if I may add. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was a chef, not a real estate mogul. He dips a spoon into the paper container of sauce, and drizzles it over the roasted vegetables.
“Are we on Master Chef or something?” I ask as he licks his fingers and decides to sprinkle a touch more salt. What I wouldn’t give to be that sauce.
He won’t allow me to help, but once everything is plated, I’m permitted to take my own to the dining room. Roger pours the wine as I stare hungrily at my feast.
“Afraid you won’t have many leftovers since you asked me to stick around,” he laughs as he sets my glass down.
“Listen, regardless of whether you stayed or not, I’m still eating more free food than I would’ve had otherwise,” I smile as he finally takes his seat. “Thank you. I mean it.”
Roger waves me off and raises his glass.
Is this turning into something of a tradition for us then? I raise my glass to his. “To professional door openers everywhere.”
I groan and pull my glass away. “How about to dinner?” I say.
Roger nods and we clink our glasses. I try not to laugh as I raise mine to my lips. It’s completely stupid; this cheesy ‘cheers’ thing that we do. Anyway, cheesy or not, it’s nice to have a tradition with someone.
My manners completely abandon me as I dive into the food. Holy fuck, this is delicious. The salmon is perfectly glazed, paired with the light buttery sauce. The vegetables are divine and expertly seasoned (even if Roger took matters into his own hands on the salt front).
I hear Roger snort and turn to find him laughing at me. “Not bad, huh?”
I must have looked like I was orgasming. I can hardly speak, so I just moan as I take another bite. So, not only does Roger Zane have a taste for wine, it seems he also has excellent taste in food.
This is dangerous.Heis dangerous.
Wine, sex and food. He’s holding all three keys to my heart.