“I remember having lunches and dinners with my friends when I was a boy summering in Maine. None of it was stuffy—but all of it was good.”
“That I can do for you, Alex.”
“When it gets colder, can you make a good beef stew?”
“Absolutely. And a chicken soup that will curl your toes. And obviously fish—I can do any sort of fish, and it always will be tender for the same reason those eggs you’re cooking will be. Low, low heat. Oh, and I can do a macaroni and cheese with fresh mushrooms, lobster, and spinach that you’ll never forget. And I have a bit more up my sleeve. Just not the super fancy stuff you’re about to do.”
“I’m so glad you’re here, Jennifer.”
We went into the kitchen, which was a massive space filled with high-end appliances, a large bar area with comfortable stools, lots of overhead lighting, and the aroma of fresh coffee.
“Would you like a cup?”
“I’m dying for a cup.”
“Cream? Sugar?”
“Both, please.”
Before he poured the coffee into a large white mug, he put out a tray service. “Help yourself.”
I went straight for the cream and sugar, and indulged. He watched me with a smile. The coffee was delicious. After getting almost no sleep, I was thankful for it.
And I knew I was damned lucky for him. I watched him move around the kitchen, which seemed like a lover to him. He knew exactly where everything was. I watched him chop the tarragon and lightly beat the eggs with a bit of heavy cream in a glass bowl. He prepared the asparagus with olive oil and salt for roasting, and ground the fresh Parmesan in a food processor so it could be used later. The croissants looked divine and flaky beneath the domed pastry dish. Butter softened to room temperature sat beside them. Next to the croissants were two white plates, silverware, napkins, and two juice glasses. The Times was to my right.
I opened it to the business section while he cooked. I scanned the page and was surprised to find a story with a headline that read “Wenn Eyes Kobus Airlines.” It was a brief story that detailed the troubled airline and how its fleet could benefit the successful Wenn Air. When asked if the rumors were true, Wenn declined comment, though the Times reported that several unnamed sources confirmed that Wenn did plan to go forward with a takeover bid. Gordon Kobus, who owned the airline, did comment. I remembered him from the fundraising gala at the Museum of Natural History where he stared with open hostility at Alex while we were in the Theodore Roosevelt Rotunda. The man gave me the creeps. His quote gave me a chill: “Alexander Wenn’s father once wanted my airline, and he failed to take it away from me. So will his son, who isn’t half the businessman his father was. He’s a mere boy. It won’t happen. Mr. Wenn can rest assured of that. I will fight him and the board of Wenn Enterprises every step of the way should they come anywhere near Kobus.”
“That’s just a damned threat,” I said aloud.
Alex put the asparagus in the oven and looked up at me. “You found the story, I see.”
“Who leaked it?”
He shrugged. “Somebody did. It might have been Kobus himself.”
“Because his stock would soar on such news.”
“That’s right.”
“I hope it didn’t come from in-house.”
“I’ll never know. The board is behind the idea, so I’m thinking it didn’t come from anyone within Wenn. I’m thinking Kobus wanted his stock to rise on the news. As for the ‘unnamed sources,’ I have no clue who they could be.”
I decided to go there. “Last night, you seemed distracted when you picked me up. This morning, I felt the same way when I saw you. I’m assuming this is why.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then, what’s troubling you?”
He reached for an oven timer and set it for the asparagus. “I want to spend more time with you, but I can already see that going forward that’s going to be difficult. Sometimes it’s going to be impossible. That worries me. And it frustrates me because I don’t see an end to it. I know you have your commitments, as I do, but to give this our best shot, I see only one solution, which I’m fairly certain you won’t take.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to come back to Wenn,” he said. “As soon as possible and in whatever capacity you wish. You love business. I can offer you the world of big business. If you agree, I’ll know for certain that we can spend time together because I’ll make that a priority.”
I started to speak, but he interrupted. “Just let me get breakfast going, or my reputation for being a halfway decent cook is going to be blown, which Michelle would have my ass for. We’ll talk after we eat. I’ll listen to you and I’ll hear you, but I hope that we can work something out, Jennifer. I’ve always been decisive about what I want. I didn’t take asking you to be my girlfriend lightly. I asked you because that is exactly what I wanted, and what I continue to want. You are who I want. I know this has happened very quickly—I get it—but maybe it has for a reason. Having you here now feels right to me. It feels like this is how it should be. I know I’m probably way ahead of you in terms of our relationship, but that’s just who I am, so I’m being honest with you. After we eat, we’ll talk. OK?”
My head was spinning, and I could feel my guard going up. I liked my job at db Bistro. I won that job on my own merits, which was important to me. But I couldn’t deny his point, and I also worried about how the lack of seeing each other would affect our relationship. Of course it would. We’d rarely see each other. I wasn’t a fool—things would collapse because of that. But I never saw this job offer coming, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Still, I had to at least hear him out and give it some thought. It was only the right thing to do.
“OK,” I said. “We’ll eat, and then we’ll talk.”
CHAPTER SIX
“How were the eggs?” Alex asked, looking at my empty plate.
I wiped my mouth with a napkin, and shot him a glance. “Is that even a question?”
He smiled at me, and when he did, his eyes were soft.
“They were heaven. All of it was. Michelle trained you very well.” I checked my watch. “We probably should talk. It’s fifteen minutes before eight, and your meeting is at nine. Living room?”
“Sure. Another cup of coffee?”
“I’d love another. Let me help you clean up.”
He tried to say no, but already I was out of my seat. I stacked the plates, separated the silverware, and cradled the two empty juice glasses around the bar to the sink. I rinsed off everything while he stood beside me and poured the coffee. I thought about what he said earlier about this feeling right to him. Helping him in the kitchen felt natural to me. It was the oddest thing. I’d only known this man for a few weeks, but there was a rhythm between us that was undeniable. And confusing. I was too new to all of this, and had to wonder if what was happening between us was special, or if it was as rare as he suggested it was.
Lisa will know.
When we finished in the kitchen, the tension between us was high because neither of us knew what was going to be said. But he still reached for my hand when we walked into the living room with our coffee. I could tell that he was nervous, so I squeezed back. We sat on the white leather sofa, put our mugs down on the coffee table, and Alex reached for my legs and swung them over his lap. He removed my sandals and started to rub my feet.
“I know you love your job, Jennifer. And I know that it’s important to you that you landed it on your own. You have every reason to be proud of that. I’m proud of you for it.”
I didn’t say anything at first—I just watched him. He wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he had a brooding look on his face as he focused on my feet. He was impossibly handsome and kind, regardless of the rougher, more dominant side I’d seen in him last night. And I didn’t want this to end, just as I didn’t want to shortchange my career. Wenn could offer me opportunities that I wouldn’t receive at db Bistro. Obviously. But what was he proposing? Earlier
, he said anything I wanted. But I wanted something that complemented my skills. I wasn’t about to take anything more than that. If I did, I would regret it, and it would cheapen everything that was blossoming between us.
“That night with Cyrus,” I said. “I didn’t enjoy the end of the night, to say the least, but I did enjoy strategizing with you on how best to work a potential deal. I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I know that because of me, you landed that deal with Stavros Shipping.”
He looked up me. “You think I don’t know that? You were instrumental. Even the board knows it. I told them what you did.”
I didn’t know that. He could have taken the credit for himself, but he didn’t. I felt a rush of affection for him then. But then I checked myself, and focused on my future.
“If I did this, I’d only consider a job that I had earned. I don’t want any handouts just so we can be together. I want to be valued for my contributions, and not like I’m there only because I’m Alexander Wenn’s companion.”
“Girlfriend.”
“Companion. I know you keep saying girlfriend, but I’m not there yet. Still, as I promised last night, I will be exclusive to you. I’ve never been in a relationship before. I need to see how this unfolds, and I need for you to respect that it might take longer for me to say that word than it took you. It seemed so easy for you.”
“It was easy for me. You’re not the first woman of interest to come along since my wife died, Jennifer. I think you’ve seen a slice of what I have to deal with when I go out. Since Diana’s death, I haven’t called anyone my girlfriend until I met you because I haven’t dated anyone. I said it for a reason. It’s what I want. It’s what’s in my heart. I know this is right.”
“I just need time, Alex. I need to let it build in a different way. Not just sexually. Though that wasn’t so bad last night, as you clearly saw when I practically bumped into walls on my way out. But mentally and emotionally too. Does that make sense? I need it all before I can say that word.”
“I’m just ahead of you, which is fine.” He lifted my foot and kissed it before he started to rub it again. “Eventually, I’ll get you there.”
“Back to that night with Cyrus. I consulted you that night. I gave you an angle you hadn’t considered. I think you’ve seen that when it comes to what’s happening in the business world, I’m pretty much on top of it. I have good instincts and ideas. I think a good fit for me at Wenn would be as a consultant to you. Maybe to go to these events with you and meet the players. During the day, we could see each other in private and strategize about the next target. I think I could succeed at that. And because of the Stavros deal, which will make Wenn hundreds of millions, I think I’ve earned that. Better yet, I wouldn’t feel as if I was just given something so we could be together. What matters to me is that I’m in a job in which I feel valued for my work and my contributions. How do you feel about that?”
“You’d like to be my consultant?” he asked.
“I think that would be a good fit. I think we could get some work done together.”
“If I offered you the job now, would you take it?”
“We’d need to discuss salary first. A fair wage.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I have nothing in mind. So far, this has all been off the cuff. I was expecting breakfast, not this conversation.”
“What are you worth, Jennifer? Don’t lowball yourself. Tell me what you’re worth.”
I thought about it for a moment. I knew what other consultants made in the city. It often was an outrageous sum, well into seven figures. But I was only twenty-five, so I needed to scale it way back without underselling myself or what I’d already achieved for Wenn.
“At this point in my career and with what I’ve already done for you? Five hundred thousand a year, with bonuses for milestones achieved.”
“Five hundred thousand?”
“That’s right.”
“I thought you were going to go for more.”
“I’m here to work for a fair wage. Consulting the CEO of a major corporation for five hundred thousand a year is a fair wage in this city, especially considering my age and my experience. I’m not here to use our relationship for an inflated salary. It’s not ethical.”
“So, you see? This is one of the reasons I want to be with you. One of the many reasons. Others would have gone for much more. Others also wouldn’t have given me the jewelry and the clothes back.”
“I’m not like the others.”
“I know you’re not. Will you take the job?”
“I need to talk to Lisa about it. I share everything with her. She’s my consultant. And if I take it, I’ll need to give two weeks’ notice at the restaurant. I will not leave Stephen in a bind. He and the rest of the staff have been good to me.”
“That sounds more than fair. When do you think I’ll have a definitive answer?”
“Once I talk to Lisa. At best, by the end of today. If not today, then sometime tomorrow. I think I might sleep on it.”
“That works for me.”
“Thank you.”
And with that, he leaned me back on the sofa, and cupped my face in his hands, his eyes glinting with desire. He then went in for the kill for the next thirty minutes so that I was so spent, I barely could move when he gave me a final kiss and dashed into his bedroom to change into his suit.
After he’d changed, he came out of his bedroom and walked over to me. “I want you to have something,” he said.
I was delusional. I looked at what he was holding out in his hand. It looked like a credit card. “What’s that?”
“A key to the apartment.”
“Isn’t it a little too soon?”
“Look, Jennifer. Even if you don’t take the job and we have to find out other ways to make this work, if you find yourself in this neighborhood and are in need of a place to unwind, even if I’m not here, I want you to know that you can do so here. It’s not a big deal. I’ve already told security. They know who you are by name. You just need to say hello to them, walk past them, and use the place as if it’s yours. Because it is yours. All of it. If you find that you need anything, just call the front desk and you’ll have it in a flash. There’s nothing you can’t have, so just ask for it. OK?”
“Alex—”
“Jennifer, either way, we’ll work this out.”
“All right.” I sat up and admired him. “I love you in a suit.”
“You’ve said that before. Why?”
“Because you look handsome. Even when you’re tie is crooked, as it is now.”
I stood up and straightened it. I was so close to him, I could smell that damned cologne of his, which was faint but beyond sexy. It was never overpowering on him. Instead, he did it right and used it correctly. Cologne or perfume should only ever be an intimate experience. It should be part of one’s essence, something someone else can smell only if they are very close to you. I kissed him full on the lips and thanked him for breakfast.
“I’m only a phone call away,” he said. “Talk to Lisa. See what she thinks. If she’s this close to you, I’d like to meet her soon. We three can have dinner together. Right here. I’ll cook.”
“There’s no need for you to go to that kind of trouble. We can just go out.”
“I’d rather stay in, if it’s all the same. Cooking relaxes me. Seriously. It’s what Michelle taught me. ‘In the kitchen, you can become an artist,’ she used to say to me. ‘And when you become one, you lose yourself and your troubles will go away.’”
“She said that to you as a child?”
“She did.”
“What troubles?”
He hesitated, but then said, “I didn’t exactly have the happiest of childhoods. Michelle was acutely aware of that. She took me under her wing whenever she could. I suppose in many ways she protected me.”
“From whom? Your mother? You mentioned her before in conjunction with Michelle.”
“Yes, my mother. Oft
en, my father too. But let’s not discuss that now. Another time, OK?”
“OK.”
“When Lisa comes for dinner, we’ll have a few glasses of wine and I’ll finally get to know your best friend. That’s important to me. The people in your life are important to me. Whatever you want, I’ll cook.”
“Lisa is a total foodie.”
“So this will be a test?”
“It will be to her.”
“I’m up for the challenge.”
“You’ll need to be,” I said.
“What I need to do is run.”
“Have a good meeting.”
He gave me a final kiss, and then he went for the elevator. “You as my consultant,” he said inside the car. “I like that. And I think I need that. Thank you for considering it.”
The doors swept shut, and then he was gone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I’ve been offered a job at Wenn,” I said as I walked into our apartment. Lisa was on the sofa. On the table in front of her was a stack of manuscript pages. Soon, she’d ask me to proof her book. I couldn’t wait to see what she’d created now. I was excited for her, and also for me because I loved her writing. Her stories scared the hell out me, but in a good way.
She put down her red pen, but didn’t turn to look at me. “You’ve been offered what?”
“A job at Wenn.”
“What time is it?”
“Just after ten. Why?”
“Mimosas,” she said. “Two. And tout suite! I need to hear it all.”
“I know we have a bottle of champagne. But do we even have orange juice?”
“I picked up a carton yesterday. I’ve got it covered.”
“You often do,” I said. How strong?”
“Just a taste of champagne—not too much. I have a day’s worth of editing ahead of me, so my head needs to be clear. But right now, for the next hour or so, we are going to have a little chit-chat.”
“That we are.”
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