Finally, I catch a glimpse of a hatchback making its way up the winding road to my home. The car looks like it might fall apart if it hits a bump too hard, what with the peeling paint and rusted tire caps. I wonder if she’s even safe driving that death trap.
If it wasn’t clear before, it’s obvious now. There’s an enormous wealth gap between me and Kaylee, and it’s clear just by the look of her car. It doesn’t bother me. Will it bother Kaylee?
I’m getting ahead of myself. We haven’t even had lunch yet. Our only interaction was limited to a steamy encounter in my office. Maybe she hates my guts. Maybe she wants to berate me over coffee and sandwiches. Who knows?
“Edwards!” I call out. “My guest has arrived. Can you bring her to the patio please?”
The older man nods and heads for the door. Meanwhile, I scurry out back to the garden patio because I don’t want Kaylee to know that I’ve been a nervous wreck. Thankfully, lunch is already set out. My chef made delicious sandwiches and a fantastic apple meringue pie. I put in a special request for the apple meringue, and something tells me that Kaylee and I are going to have some fun with it.
A man has to do what he has to do, after all.
“Welcome back, Ms. Kaylee,” I hear Edwards say through the open patio door. “Please, follow me.”
Their footsteps get louder until Edwards and Kaylee are standing in front of the patio’s sliding doors. She’s absolutely gorgeous. The curvy girl’s wearing a blue sundress that hugs her generous assets, and little white flowers dot the fabric. Her hips are wide, and her waist slim. Long legs peek out from below the hem, stopping in a pair of high-heeled sandals.
But Kaylee hasn’t even noticed me yet. Instead, she’s looking around my garden with awe.
“Wow,” she whispers, eyes wide with appreciation. “I saw the garden from a distance on my last visit, but it’s even more beautiful in person.”
I try to see the grounds the way she does. I think my home is gorgeous, but I’ve lived here my entire life. Maybe it’s rubbed off on me a bit.
I step forward with a knowing smile.
“You’re the one who’s beautiful,” I tell her.
Kaylee blushes. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”
I’m wearing a button-down and jeans. She looks much more put-together than I do, but I’ll take the compliment.
“Will you be needing anything further, sir?” Edwards asks politely.
I shake my head.
“No, thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Edwards disappears into the house. Kaylee stands awkwardly, like she’s not sure what to do.
“Please, come sit,” I request, pulling out a chair for her. “Lunch is ready.”
Kaylee smooths down her skirt as she sits, and I admire her genteel manner.
“I had my chef prepare sandwiches for us,” I say. “I hope that’s okay. They’re grilled tomato, thyme, mozzarella, and prosciutto.”
“Sounds delicious,” she smiles. “Although I admit I’m more of ham and cheese girl.”
I grin at her.
“Don’t worry, because mozzarella and prosciutto are just fancy-speak for ham and cheese. It’s the same thing.”
She giggles and the tension is broken. I place one of the baguettes on Kaylee’s plate and then one on my own. I also add a handful of hand-cut potato chips. My chef makes the best in Pennsylvania, and I’ll testify to that under oath.
Kaylee takes a bite of the sandwich and moans. A bit of tomato juice dribbles down her chin. She cleans it up quickly with a napkin.
“This is delicious. My compliments to your chef.”
I wink.
“I’ll be sure to let her know you like the meal. She always thinks that I hate her stuff, but in fact, the opposite is true. I love her cooking.”
Kaylee throws me a weird look.
“But why would she think that?”
I laugh.
“Because Chef Maria always prepares too much, and there’s no way I can finish it. But she’s Italian, so whenever there are any leftovers, she thinks it’s her fault. I’ve told her a million times it’s not that. It’s because I’m one man, and I can’t eat five sandwiches for lunch, but she goes overboard still.”
Kaylee giggles.
“Five sandwiches in one go does sound like a lot. Do you eat outside a lot?”
I smile while taking another huge bite of prosciutto.
“When the weather’s nice, yes. Why, do you eat outdoors often when you’re at home?”
Kaylee shifts in her seat uncomfortably and blushes a bit.
“No, not exactly. I live in a trailer park remember? Outdoors would mean on a plastic deck chair among the weeds with cars parked not fifteen feet away.”
I nod.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
She shakes her head.
“No, it’s okay. I want to be honest about where I’m from. I’m definitely not from a place like this, and I think if you saw where I live, you’d be shocked.”