Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Very funny. If you want to be useful, grab that colander and drain the pasta. Reserve about a cup of the water.” Breathing easier when he moved away from me, I placed the sliced bread in a basket lined with a linen napkin and set it on the table. The salad and salad plates were already out, as were bread plates, wine and water glasses, and silverware.
Back in the kitchen, I carefully stepped around him to retrieve some serving utensils from a drawer. I wasn’t sure what my problem was tonight, but it was important to remember that he was only here for business negotiations. This wasn’t a date. We were barely even friends. And just because it had been a really long time since I’d been intimate with a man did not mean I should be thinking about what he looked like naked.
“You want this in the sauce?” he asked me, holding the colander full of steaming pappardelle.
“Yes. Thanks.” I watched him carefully tip the pasta into the sauce. “I’ll take it from here. You can sit down if you want.”
“Okay.” He set the colander in the sink. “Can I pour you a glass of wine?”
“Uh, sure.” I wanted to keep my wits sharp tonight, but figured one glass wouldn’t hurt. It might even help take the edge off whatever physical attraction I felt for him.
“Opener?”
I pulled it from a drawer and handed it to him, careful not to let our fingers touch.
While he opened the wine, I faced away from him and took a breath before finishing the pasta, transferring it to the serving bowl and grating a little more parmesan onto the dish. From the fridge I pulled out some fresh basil and quickly chopped a small handful, sprinkling it over the top.
When I turned around, Enzo took the large, heavy bowl from me and placed it on the island. “This looks incredible.”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised.” Lowering myself onto one of the counter stools, I took a sip from the glass of wine he’d poured me.
“That was a compliment,” he said, scowling. “See, this is the problem with women. You try to say something nice, and they don’t know how to just say thank you.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” I muttered, grateful he’d said something to remind me why I would never be romantically interested in him.
Never, I repeated, watching those hands as he served us both salad and pasta.
Never.
Never.
Never.
Three
Enzo
“So,” she said as we began to eat, “should we wait until after dinner to talk business?”
“No need,” I said, drizzling olive oil and then vinegar over my salad. “We can talk now if you’d like. And if there’s anything we need to get in writing, we can do it when we’re finished.”
She took a sip of wine. “So you’re still up for this?”
“I am. Are you?” My tone came out more challenging than I’d intended.
“Yes. I just felt like maybe I should double-check with you, since your decision-making abilities were impaired last night.” She didn’t even bother to hide her smile.
“Well, today I’m stone cold sober, and I’m still in.”
“Excellent. So am I.” She stuck a forkful of salad in her mouth.
“So the way I see it, there are three phases to this project,” I said, feeling like I was pitching a new construction deal. “The engagement, the marriage—which includes the baby—and the breakup.”
“Sounds about right.”
“I don’t think we should wait on the engagement. It might seem like it’s coming out of left field, but we should probably fake the whole falling in love thing quickly, and just make the announcement we’re married.” I took a bite of pasta—it was fucking delicious. Her cooking would definitely be a perk. “I figure we can do like a City Hall thing and tell them after the fact.”
She took another sip of wine and set the glass down slowly. “So there won’t be an actual wedding? With guests?”
“I wasn’t planning on it. Why? You want one?”
“Not a big one. But what if this is the only chance I ever have to wear a white dress and have my father walk me down the aisle?”
I thought about that as I chewed. “Can it be the aisle at City Hall?”
She considered it. “I suppose I could deal with that. It might even be better because then we won’t have to lie to a priest. I was nervous about that.”
“Same,” I said, glad we agreed on something. “I think it’s best if we keep God out of this. Otherwise, one of us might be struck by lightning or something.”
She nodded. “So the story will go that we ran into each other after dinner last night and realized, lo and behold, that we’ve been wrong about each other all these years, and suddenly we’re head over heels.”
I shrugged and stuck more pasta in my mouth. “Whatever.”