by Claire Adams
Her place ended up being an apartment just on the outskirts of downtown. It was a decent-sized complex, and I walked up the three floors of stairs to her numbered door.
I brushed my shoulders and straightened my suit as I stared at her door.
I still couldn’t forget her words from Thursday night. How adamant she was that she would never have children. Was this fair to her? I had made the decision earlier to tell Everly about Abby at dinner, but my nerves were beginning to get the better of me. I shook my head and reminded myself that I had been against children as well, and that if a guy like me was capable of changing, maybe she was as well. Everyone deserved a chance, assuming she’d want one.
So, first I needed to make sure that this intense connection I felt was real, and that it was something she felt as well. I gathered the courage to finally knock, but the moment I raised my fist was the moment she swung her door open.
“Maddox?” She seemed surprised, as if she wasn’t sure I was actually going to show up. It dawned on me that she must have been watching my inward turmoil through a peephole, and I felt my cheeks warm.
“Everly.” I cleared my throat. “You look…” I looked for the proper words, but my mind failed me. Her dress was a powdery blue that shimmered like diamonds beneath the light, and the top was cut low enough that I was going to have to remind myself to look elsewhere. It was tight from her bosom to her waist, and hung in a loose wave that just barely brushed the floor. The lightness of the dress made her green eyes even brighter, and they were rimmed with a faint layer of gray shadow that highlighted the contours of her cheeks. Her beautiful hair was pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and on her face was a shy, self-conscious smile that tugged at my heart.
“Nice?” she offered a word, and again I cleared my throat.
“Beautiful,” I said. It wasn’t often that I lost the ability to speak. “You look beautiful.”
“We match.” She tilted her head and gestured at my tie, which I realized was the same shade as her dress.
“How about that,” I said, thankful that I had completely forgotten to switch ties in the car. Abby was going to be so happy when she found out she matched our colors. “Are you ready? I’ll be a little honest; I wasn’t sure where to park because everything was numbered and my car isn’t exactly subtle.” Stuck out like a sore thumb was more appropriate a description. My palms grew damp as my heart raced.
“Of course.” She grabbed a clutch and locked her door behind her. “I forgot to tell you that the visitor parking is like two miles away from the actual complex. I’m sorry.” I followed her down the stairs and held the door open as we exited into the night. She slipped her arms through a thick coat and tied it around her waist.
“How was your dinner last night?” she asked as we walked toward my car. I raised an eyebrow, and she elaborated. “You said you were going to try and make the salmon, remember?”
“Oh.” I nodded, remembering our conversation over text. I had been bored and was desperately wanting to start a conversation with her, and so I asked for the recipe for our first meal together, despite having made a complicated pasta dish for Abby, Nick, and me. “I attempted it, but I must have overcooked the fish. It didn’t come apart as smoothly as yours, and the vegetables were far too salty.”
“Those are easy mistakes,” she said, and then paused as I unlocked my car. I had taken the Giulia and Everly stared in awe. “It’s so much prettier up close,” she said.
A soft chuckle fell from my lips. “Is it ugly from afar?” I asked as I opened the door for her. She slipped inside and I hurried to the driver’s seat.
“No, not at all. It’s just, I don’t think I’ve ever seen something like this.” She examined the inside, brushing her fingers against the dark leather seats. “It’s incredible.”
“It’s my baby,” I admitted. “There’s less than 100 in the States.”
“You’re one of a kind,” she murmured. I grinned, asking her to repeat herself, and she shook her head and laughed. “You heard me, you arrogant billionaire.”
“Now I’m arrogant?” I chuckled. “I think I like one of a kind better.”
She gasped as I turned the ignition and the powerful engine came to life. I couldn’t help but notice her thighs pressed tightly together, and I gripped the steering wheel as desire struck me hard.
The restaurant was about a 20-minute drive, and despite Everly’s attempt at innocent conversation, I knew it was going to be a very difficult 20 minutes.
“Have you been here before?” I asked as a valet took my keys. Everly stood like a crystal statue beside me, staring at the grand staircase leading to a building decorated with diamonds and glittering rubies. Lumiere was known for catering only to the wealthiest of the socialites, and it made sure to look its part. I always felt it was a little too gaudy for this part of downtown; too much display of wealth could sometimes come off as greedy, but Everly was clearly in awe of the exquisite display. It was hard not to be impressed by its grandeur.
“No,” she said. “I always heard there was a wait list for the wait list, and it was booked nearly a year in advance just to get on the first one.” I offered her my arm, and she slipped hers within mine as we made our way upwards. Her dress trailed behind her, and she curled into me as the bitter wind slapped at our exposed skin, and the warmth of her beside me felt nice.
“There is,” I said. “But they usually leave a spot or two open for investors.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. The owner of Lumiere had been a close friend until we both became too busy with our restaurants, but I had created his menu for him, and he considered that payment enough.
“You’re an investor here?” Everly kept her voice low, and I had to lean toward her. Her perfume was a lovely scent of jasmine and spice. “Jesus, Maddox, you just keep surprising me.”
That was the best compliment I’d gotten in a while. “Good.” I smiled as two doormen opened the front door for us. They nodded at me and offered to take our coats.
“Thank you,” Everly said as one helped her take hers off. I handed mine to the other, and a hostess greeted us with a wide smile. She didn’t have to ask my name; every reservation was at a unique time, and the valet had confirmed my identity already.
“If you’ll follow me to your table.” She led us up another set of stairs, this one shimmering with sharp diamond corners that Everly stared at as we followed the hostess. The upper floor was a large oval room with plenty of giant tables in the middle filled with other wealthy socialites, and more secluded, intimate tables pressed against a floor-to-ceiling window that framed the room. The lighting was dim, and each table was furnished with a single candle and the option to control a light hanging low above it.
A waiter was waiting at our table, against the window, and pushed Everly’s seat back as she sat. I held up my hand and sat myself.
“Wow.” Everly breathed deep, her ample breasts heaving as she stared at the view. Lumiere was on the edge of downtown, and the building was high enough to show an incredible picture of the ocean and the distant horizon. The sun was just beginning to set, which painted the waters with a lovely shade of pink, and its ripples seemed to dance in its glory. “It’s beautiful.”
I ordered a bottle of wine, and the waiter set off to bring our appetizers.
“How would you feel about working somewhere like this?” I asked. “If you wanted, I could put in a word.”
“Oh, no.” Everly shook her head. “I mean, yeah, it would be wonderful. But I think I’d rather work at a place maybe one step below. Plus, I’m sort of having fun working for you.” She smiled and her cheeks flared with a blush. The words had my chest swelling with pride.
“You are? I was worried you’d hate it. I know it’s not much cooking, and I know…well, I’ve heard that some chefs go crazy if they don’t cook enough,” I said.
“I still cook for myself, like breakfast and lunch, and on the weekends, I cook for my sister and niece,” she said. “But I think I mi
ght have spoiled them. Last time I made steak for my niece, she asked if I had truffle butter with edible gold to go with it.”
I laughed. “How old is your niece?”
“Five,” she said. “But don’t get me wrong, she’s not as bratty as a lot of other 5-year-olds. I don’t know how my sister managed it, but she’s raising an amazing kid. Belle always asks for something she wants, and always says thank you. And she’s smart, too.” Her face seemed to glow with love for the child.
“She sounds wonderful,” I said, and realized this might have been the perfect opportunity to tell her about Abby.
“I have to give a lot of credit to my sister, but it wasn’t easy. Seeing her struggle through life as a single mother is what confirmed my choice. I love Belle more than possibly anything else in life now, but I couldn’t stand her until a little over a year ago,” Everly admitted.
I closed my mouth, deciding against telling her at that moment. I didn’t want to ruin anything, at least, not yet.
“I understand.” I nodded. “That choice isn’t an easy one to make.”
“I’m sorry, I told myself I wasn’t going to bring that up again.” Everly shook her head, and our waiter arrived with our wine. He poured our glasses, and we made a toast to Everly’s new position as my chef.
“Your menu this week was wonderful,” I said. “I’m looking forward to next week’s.”
“I’ve been working on it, actually. I have a few surprises planned.”
“Oh?” I smirked and leaned forward. “I rather like surprises.”
She brushed a stray hair behind her ear, and the small movement instantly turned me on. I shifted in my seat, staring at the curl behind her ear, and her cheeks flushed as she considered my statement.
“I’ll remember that,” she said, her voice low and sultry. I nearly sighed; she was flirting with me as well.
Before the appetizer round began, our waiter placed a cheese selection platter on the table and introduced each one to us. Small pieces of bread accompanied them, and Everly and I took turns testing each one.
“You were right,” Everly said. “This is giving me inspiration for future menus.”
“I’m glad I could help,” I said. “It’s about the most I could do with my poor cooking skills.” I sounded silly, and I knew I shouldn’t be adding to the lie, but I couldn’t help it. Everly seemed to enjoy poking fun at my failures.
“You’re not that bad,” she offered, but a slight chuckle gave her modesty away.
Our waiter brought our appetizer, the first of three, and explained to us that the tiny sample-sized meal was Alaskan sablefish with baby bok choy and coconut curry broth. It took less than two bites to finish it, and Everly and I shared our appreciation. Every moan of satisfaction from her sweet mouth stirred deep in my blood.
We had finished our first glass of wine by the time the third appetizer was delivered; smoked Rohan duck with Fuji apples and celery root.
“Why is it so pleasurable?” Everly closed her eyes and swallowed the last bite. She tilted her head back and arched her back, and the moan that escaped her lips made me grip the stem of my wine glass tightly. “Should food be this pleasurable?”
“You’d be surprised at what food is capable of,” I said. Everly opened her eyes and looked at me, and we shared a moment of desire. Her cheeks were flushed with the warmth of wine, and her lips stained with red. I wondered how they would taste.
A movement caught the corner of my eye, and I turned to glance at a couple walking toward us. An older woman with dark hair and gray eyes, and a man who looked like me, but had blue eyes and was older.
“Oh no,” I said, and Everly frowned at my sudden change of mood.
“What?”
“My parents,” I said a brief prayer, and it was answered as they were brought to a different table. But Everly apparently recognized them, and she seemed far more interested than I was.
“We should bring some chairs,” she said and waved until my mother noticed us. “There’s plenty of room.”
“Everly, no,” I urged, but it was too late. My parents were already ordering the hostess to add chairs to our table, and they greeted us warmly.
“Maddox, honey!” I stood, hugged my mother, and shook my father’s hand. “You didn’t tell me you were eating here tonight!”
“He’s clearly on a date, sweetheart,” my father said. At least he seemed to be sorry for the interruption.
“A date?” My mom gasped and turned toward Everly. Her short hair was curled perfectly, and she wore a conservative black dress with a strand of pearls on her neck.
“Yes, Mother. This is Everly. Everly, this is Maxine, my mother, and Darrell, my father.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Everly shook both of their hands. The hostess helped set our table up for four, and they were brought their appetizers swiftly.
“How did you two meet?” Mother asked. I had our waiter refill my wine quickly.
“It’s a funny story,” Everly started, and I realized she was planning on telling my parents that I hired her to teach me how to cook.
“She was at the Children’s Foundation Fundraiser,” I said. “A date with Everly was auctioned off, and there was absolutely no way I was going to have anyone else win that.”
I shot Everly a quick look without my parents noticing, and she must have recognized the desperation.
“How romantic!” Mother gushed. She was far too giddy for my liking, but it wasn’t surprising. She had always been a hopeless romantic, playing matchmaker to her friends. She had wanted me to settle down and find a mother for Abby for years now. “Oh, that just reminds me of how we met.” She glanced at my father and dove into their story.
Every time she opened her mouth, I was prepared for her to mention Abby, but it didn’t seem as if she was planning on bringing her up. Maybe she understood that children weren’t a good conversation for a simple date, and Father didn’t seem too invested in anything we had to say. He nodded at the appropriate times and offered enough polite chat to seem respectful.
“That’s a wonderful story,” Everly said.
“It is, isn’t it? Perfect to pass onto our grandchildren.”
I choked on my wine as Everly frowned, but it was that moment that a miracle happened, and our entree was served. The plating was so gorgeous that it somehow distracted Mother long enough to forget the current topic, and I mentioned to her that Everly had a passion for the arts.
“Oh! What shows have you gone to this year?” Mother asked, and Everly blushed as she admitted she hadn’t had the time to attend any.
“I would have liked to see “Evita” the most,” Everly said.
“Well, we’re not only patrons of the theater, but we also have a box reserved for each showing. If you find the time, you must come with us. Just let Maddox know, and he’ll set it up,” Mother said, and Everly’s jaw nearly dropped.
I chuckled. Mother basically set up a future date for me.
Everly and Mother bonded over the theater throughout dinner, and by the time the dessert was served, a Peruvian chocolate crunch with a hazelnut mousse, they seemed like best friends.
“Abby’s first show was “Wicked,” Mother said, and I paled.
“Mother, would you like another refill?” I asked as she finished her wine.
“I’m good, Maddox.” She waved me off. “Oh, she was so wonderful and well behaved! Dressed to the nines, and barely over a year old, she was. Does she still have that dress, Maddox? The one with the pearl set?”
Everly stared at me.
“Abby?” she mouthed.
“I have pictures, actually!” Mother retrieved her phone from her purse and unlocked it. She opened her gallery and showed Everly as she flipped through nearly 100 photos of Abby, “This was just after Maddox first brought her home to us,” Mother said. “I always thought I couldn’t love anyone more than my own son, but at that moment, when I saw those big beautiful eyes, I knew I was capable of so much more
love.”
I saw the moment Everly realized the important of mother’s words.
“Abby,” Everly said and glanced at me. “Maddox’s daughter, of course. She’s beautiful.” She was nothing but polite to my mother, and her eyes revealed it all to me.
I bit my lip and leaned back in my chair. I was screwed.
Chapter Sixteen
Everly
“She’s beautiful,” I said as Maddox’s mother showed me the rest of the photos. There was something familiar about her. The little girl really was beautiful, with giant blue eyes and fair hair, and his mother had clearly assumed I already knew of her, so there wasn’t much I was capable of other than playing along.
The pictures ranged from one year to three years, and in that short amount of time, it was obvious that this little girl had experienced more in life than I ever would. Trips to the Bahamas, vacations in Italy, a weekend getaway in Paris. Maxine spent 10 minutes describing their last visit to Hawaii in detail, how Abby, at two, had swum in shallow water with a dolphin. I gripped the edge of the table at that one. A 2-year-old playing with dolphins. What a daring adventure.
“He got lucky with that one,” Maxine said and dropped her phone in her purse. “She loves seeing musicals as well; you should go together. There’s nothing better than watching the reflection of a story in a child’s eyes.”
I smiled politely and nodded, fighting the urge to suggest that watching the play with your own eyes would be better. Maddox looked downright distraught on the opposite end; his face was pale, and he flinched every time his mother opened her mouth. I noticed his father, Darrell, speaking in hushed tones with Maddox as we finished our dessert, which left me to keep Maxine company.
Our wine was refilled, and Maxine took the opportunity to replace hers with a cocktail. I followed suit, needing something stronger to silence the constant echo in my mind.
Maddox had a child. A little girl, just two years younger than Belle. I remembered hating Belle at that age, and could only assume that Abby was just as bratty, and worse, high maintenance. It would be nearly impossible to not grow up spoiled in a family like hers.
