by Vivi Holt
His plate clean, he leaned back in his chair and linked his hands together behind his head with a sigh. “That was amazing. Thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a paella as good in my life before.”
Her heart swelled. “You’re welcome and thank you for the compliment.”
“So, what did you do with your day?”
It was now or never.
“Actually, I had a kind of exciting day.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I finalized my green card paperwork…”
“That’s great. I know that’s been hanging over your head. So, I’m glad you were able to get it done. Seems like a lot of work.”
“Definitely. And then I went out for lunch.”
“Anywhere I know?” he asked, his eyes fixed on hers.
She swallowed. “Um…just a little bar down the road.”
“Good?”
“Yeah, actually it was. Anyway, I met the owner and she offered me a job.”
“What?” He leaned forward, eyes wide.
“Well, they need a day chef, and I don’t have anything to do. So…”
“You’re bored,” he stated, and he pursed his lips.
“I am,” Eve admitted. “It’s not your fault. It’s just that I’m not used to having nothing much to do. I’ve always been so busy I could barely find time to clean my studio apartment. But here, there’s a driver, a maid-slash-cook, a concierge desk, a laundry service…I mean, I literally have nothing to do.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.
“No, don’t be. All those amenities are wonderful. It’s just that they left a void. So anyway, I decided to remedy the situation, and accepted the job.”
“Well, I guess congratulations are in order. And you’ll be gone during the day?” He smiled.
She nodded, relieved at his reaction. “Yes, but I’ll be back for dinner. And I was thinking I might suggest to Josie that I’ll cook a few times a week as well. What do you think?”
His eyes gleamed. “If you won’t be sick of it by then.”
“No, I’d like to do it.”
“And what about your visa situation?” he asked.
Her lips pursed. “Petra says she’ll work something out. I probably won’t get paid much, but I’d really love to do it.”
He chuckled. “Fine with me, you can work it out between the two of you. The job sounds just about perfect. Well done. I hope it’ll help you settle into life in Atlanta.”
“Thank you.”
She shifted in her seat. Had it been that obvious she wasn’t happy? She was content enough, but she’d only been in the city for a couple of months and had never really accepted that this was her life before now. To her it was a temporary stopping point on the way to achieving her goals.
There was no way she’d be able to spend an entire year sitting about and doing nothing in the immaculate apartment. But at least the US government was off her case about her visa. For now, anyway. It’d be a while before she heard anything from them about her green card. Until then, maybe she could fill in her days with work. For the first time in weeks, she felt a glimmer of hope rise up from within.
Chapter 9
John wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel that he’d draped around his shoulders then slowed the treadmill to a stop and climbed off. His home gym looked out over the city skyline through a set of floor-to-ceiling windows. It helped him stay motivated, having that view laid out before him, reminding him of all the opportunity ahead of him.
Puffing hard, he walked down the long hallway toward his bedroom, then stopped and sniffed the air. It wasn’t even six a.m. yet he detected the heady aroma of curry in the air.
He frowned and set off toward the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” he asked, rounding the corner, to find Eve buzzing about the kitchen, containers of herbs and spices scattered over the countertop.
She glanced up at him with a grin. “I’m experimenting. Trying out recipes to take to the restaurant today.”
He laughed. “Well, you’re definitely enthusiastic.”
“I have so many ideas. I really think I can bring something special to the table.”
“Literally,” he laughed.
She smiled. “Haha.” Then sprinkled a spice over the simmering pot on the stove top and sniffed the air over it. “Perfect.”
“What is that?”
“Chicken biryani. This other pot is daal, and I’ve got samosas and naan in the oven.”
“Is it an Indian restaurant?” he asked, rubbing the towel over his face and hair to dry the sweat.
“No, but I was thinking I might have themed meals. You know, you can come in and order an entire meal of Indian, or Italian, Chinese, or Japanese, each with starters, entrees, and dessert. What do you think?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. That sounds like a lot to choose from.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Hey, don’t listen to me. I don’t know anything about the restaurant business.”
“Well, anyway there’s biryani for supper tonight.”
He chuckled. “I’m liking your new job better all the time. I’m going to take a shower and get ready for work. I hope it goes well today.”
She offered a wan smile. “Thanks. I really thought it was a good idea…”
He stepped toward her and rested both hands on her shoulders. Then wiped a spot of curry from the tip of her nose with his fingertip. “It’s a great idea. I’m just a businessman. All I know is that whatever you make will be delicious.”
Her eyes brightened. “Thanks.”
His hands lingered on her arms, and his thumbs stroked her skin in a circular motion. He didn’t want to let go. Her gaze was fixed on his, drawing him in. The tension between them was palpable and grew with each passing moment that he lingered with his hands on her. There was no denying the spark between them now. Both of them had danced around the obvious connection they had, ignoring it, going about their lives as though it wasn’t there, but now it had surfaced, impossible to overlook.
She swallowed, and his gaze traced the outline of her neck, its graceful curves leading up to her ear, where a curl of blonde hair hung tucked behind it. His heart pounded against his ribcage, every nerve in his body tingling.
He inhaled slowly. “Eve, I…”
She spoke at the same time. “Have a great day as well.”
His hands dropped to his side, and he clenched them into fists.
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”
Then he strode for his room. It was time for a shower, and he’d be taking a cold one.
Eve held onto the strap of her purse as she pushed through the restaurant’s back door. It wasn’t opened yet, but the rest of the staff would be arriving soon. She wanted to get an early start since it was her first day on the job.
Excitement and nerves buzzed and danced in her gut. Memories of her first day on the job at El Salvatore's surfaced. She’d been even more nervous then. She was only twenty-two years old, with little experience in a kitchen other than washing dishes and serving food to customers. But she’d had big dreams, seemingly impossible goals even then. Spurred on by the desire to get away from the place she’d spent her entire young life and the people who’d wounded her heart time and time again. She’d left them all behind with stars in her eyes, hoping and wishing for something bigger, something more.
Petra met her in the kitchen, and they went over the menu together. She was open to some of Eve’s ideas but encouraged her to make changes slowly and keep to the feel of the restaurant, which Eve was glad to do. By the time her first shift was over, she felt happily depleted. It’d been months since she last worked at a restaurant and she was already out of shape, even though she ran every day. Standing for hours, hustling around the kitchen, slicing, dicing, stirring—it took a lot out of a her. She walked home in the waning afternoon light with a smile on her face. As she tugged her coat tighter around her thin frame, she s
ighed. It felt good to be busy, to have something meaningful to do and to be around people.
She’d met the rest of the kitchen and wait staff and was pleased with all of them. They’d greeted her with warmth and enthusiasm, welcoming her into their tribe.
Her smile faded as images of her team in New York flashed across her mind’s eye. She missed them. Not that many of them had even reached out to her since she left. She’d received a few phone calls at first, but those had trailed off until now she only got the occasional text from Damon about something he and Maria were doing or a photo of one of his many grandchildren snuggled up against his chest.
That was where she was supposed to be, back in New York City working her way up to an executive chef position. She couldn’t lose sight of that. As enjoyable as her first day working at Pickles restaurant had been, she had to focus. Keep your eye on the prize, as Dad used to say. She couldn’t get complacent and fall into a routine, a life, here in Atlanta. There was somewhere she wanted to be, something she needed to do. Still, working at the restaurant had given her the first opportunity in months to forget about all of that. She’d been busy and needed, and it’d felt good.
When she returned home, the apartment was quiet and cool. She padded barefoot down the hall, the plush carpet tickling her toes. Then she showered, changed, and headed for the kitchen. Dinner, a large bowl of biryani rice, was soon warming in the oven. She pulled open the door and the scent of chicken, herbs, and spices wafted out to greet her.
Just then, the elevator door whirred open and shut again soon after. Her heart skipped a beat. John must be home early. For some reason, the thought of that made her pulse accelerate. Then she frowned.
It was true—he was everything a girl would swoon over. But she was a girl no longer, and she’d been through enough to know real love was hard, it hurt, and it held you back from what you wanted from life. She’d dated a few times through her years in New York, but nothing serious and she still wasn’t looking for anything permanent. It was one of the reasons her arrangement with John had appealed to her: a ring on her finger while her heart was still safe.
“Hi.” His voice behind her was soft and low.
She spun to face him, her face warming even before her gaze met his.
“Hi.”
He set his briefcase on the counter. “How was your first day?”
“It was great.”
“Good.” His eyes fixed on hers, and he stepped closer, his hands hanging loosely by his sides. She remembered when he’d rested them on her arms, even rubbing her skin with his fingertips, and a wave of goose pimples washed over her at the memory.
“Petra is amazing, and the team is wonderful. They were really kind to me and listened to my ideas. We’re going to migrate some of my recipes onto the menu over the next few months.”
“That’s so great,” he said. “I knew they’d love you.” He smiled warmly.
Her throat tightened. “Really?”
“Of course. What’s not to love?” His eyes darkened and she swallowed hard.
They still hadn’t spoken about what’d happened that morning. Was she the only one feeling nervous about what might come next? What it could mean?
She swallowed again and smiled. “Nothing really. I mean, I’m just delightful all the way around.”
He chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth.”
They stood still a moment, his eyes meeting hers, his body so close she could almost feel his warmth. Her own skin prickled, and a longing welled up from deep within.
“In all seriousness, Eve, I’m really happy for you. And proud of you, if I’m allowed to say that.”
She grinned wider. “Thanks.”
“You’ve been such a blessing in my life. I would never have imagined finding someone like you when I contacted the agency, and I’m so glad I did.”
Her heart swelled. “I feel the same way.”
He moved closer, closing the gap between them, his breaths short. Then he spun on his heel and walked away.
“I need a shower,” he called back over his shoulder.
She exhaled with a huff of air, her heart hammering.
“Didn’t you already have one this morning?” she whispered beneath her breath.
The tension between them was palpable, and it wasn’t the way she wanted things to be. She didn’t sign up for romance. It could ruin everything she’d been working so hard for. If she fell for him, then stayed in Atlanta, all her hard work would be for nothing. Her dream would remain that way forever, a dream, a mist. Still, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed that he’d walked away. Almost ran, really, if she was being honest with herself. It was as though he couldn’t escape the chemistry between them fast enough. She wrapped her arms around her body with a sigh. Then faced the sweeping wall of windows and stood in silence as lights flickered on across the darkening city.
Eve studied her cell phone in the growing darkness as she sat beside the pool in a lounge chair on the narrow deck. She leaned her head back and dialed, her gaze scanning the horizon. She hadn’t spoken to her father in over a week and usually called him at least once a week to catch up. Her throat tightened. Three years was too long to go without seeing him. Of course, one of the benefits of being away was that she hadn’t had to face her sister or put up with her mother’s passive aggressive digs. Still, perhaps it was time for a visit home.
With a shiver, she pulled her sweater around herself more tightly.
Her father’s voice on the other end of the line warmed her heart.
“Hi Dad,” she said.
“Sweetheart!” he replied, in a chipper voice. “I’m so glad you called.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked, her brow furrowed.
“Not great, but better for hearing your voice. How’s the new husband?”
“He’s good…”
Her eyes squeezed shut. She hated being so far away from him when he was going through something so difficult. He’d had a cancer scare a few years ago but was in remission. Now, there was something else going on, but according to him the doctors still hadn’t determined what it was. He’d had a myriad of tests, with nothing conclusive showing up in the results.
“I should come home—” she began.
“No. You’re doing so well where you are,” he responded. “I’m proud of you for going after your dreams. You just keep going, sweetheart. That’s what makes me happy. And besides, you and John have to get to know each other, spend time together. It’s important.”
“But I want to see you.”
“Maybe we can try that video call thing again like we did last time. It sure was good to see your face.”
She nodded, though he couldn’t see her, her throat constricting. “I miss you, Dad.”
“Miss you too, sweetheart.”
As she hung up a lump formed in her throat. He was right. It wasn’t a good time for her to travel halfway around the world. She wasn’t even sure what that might mean for her visa situation. Would they even let her back into the United States if she left now?
She ran fingers through her hair with a sigh. Why did it have to be so complicated? She should never have left. Nothing was working out the way she’d hoped it would, and she’d sacrificed so much. It would’ve been so much easier to stay in Brisbane and brush her dreams aside.
Dad was the one who’d encouraged her to dream in the first place. He’d believed in her. So she hated the idea of slinking home to tell him that after everything, the dream could well be over.
Chapter 10
John bent to tie his shoelaces in the lobby, the elevator doors shutting softly behind him. The weather was warming up, so he’d been getting out of the apartment more and more for his morning workouts. A few days ago, he’d found Eve in the home gym, working out in a pair of skimpy shorts and a crop top. He’d been so distracted his workout had suffered to the point that he’d barely worked up a sweat.
Was Eve ready to take their relationship to a more intimate level? H
e had to admit, he’d thought about it a lot more lately. If they did, it would complicate things. But perhaps he was ready for the added complication.
He grinned to himself and straightened, then stretched one arm over his head. It was good for him to get out of the apartment. It was a penthouse suite, but with Eve living there, it sometimes felt small. With each week that passed, he’d found some evidence of her in another room. A painting on a wall, a vase on an end table, a notebook and pen lying about, a sweater here or a pair of shoes there.
She was a slob.
There were no two ways about it.
If it weren’t for Josie, he hated to think what kind of state she’d leave the apartment in. Whatever she was doing, or whatever clothes she was wearing, she’d just drop them wherever she happened to be sitting or standing at the time and leave them there. How long they’d remain there was something he hadn’t had the heart to experiment with yet since Josie was quick to pick up after his new wife.
It wasn’t the mess that was getting to him though. It was her. Her scent, her presence, her eyes on him. He found himself wanting things he couldn’t have, longing for more. A more that would push aside the unspoken boundaries in their relationship.
He’d added a clause to their marriage contract that they could discuss ending or extending it at the end of twelve months, but he knew she wouldn’t stay. She wanted to go back to New York with her shiny new green card in her purse, so she could pursue her career, and he wouldn’t stop her. He’d be happy for her. Might even visit, eat at her restaurant, if she wanted him there. But if they took their relationship to a physical level, parting ways and remaining friends would be that much more difficult.
“What are you daydreaming about?”
His friend and neighbor, Kenny Christian, appeared beside him with a grin. He was dressed for his regular morning run, a sweat band pushing his short hair back from his forehead.
