“An invitation allows the other person to say no.” She reached for the coffee first, pouring herself a cup and adding cream and sugar, just the way she used to take it.
“I won’t take much of your time,” I told her as she sipped her coffee. “I just wanted to give you something.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my black Amex, sliding it across the table toward her. “This is for you to use whenever you want to go out.”
She stared at the card, then at me. “Go out?”
“Yes. You said you needed some more freedom, didn’t you? If going out is what it takes to stop you from snooping around my office, then it’s a deal well earned.”
She blushed at that, but quickly grabbed the card, staring at it like it was a fragment of her imagination. Then, she looked up at me, all wide-eyed, her honey-brown eyes warm with excitement. “You’re saying I can go anywhere I want?”
“Well, mostly,” I explained quickly. “And a bodyguard will accompany you for your safety.”
“Of course,” she said dryly. “You wouldn’t want your property wandering around unprotected.”
I winced at the word ‘property.’ “That’s not what this is about, Alisa. I have enemies out there… and so do you.”
She looked like she was getting ready to fight me, but then she sighed and nodded. “I know,” she said, softly, smiling at me. “Thank you.”
The look on her face when I pulled away from that kiss had haunted me all night. The look she was giving me now—grateful, kind—it made me even angrier at having wasted all this time making her life more difficult than it needed to be.
“You’re not a prisoner,” I added quietly. “I never meant for you to feel that way.”
She studied me, and whatever she saw must have convinced her, for she waved the card in the air and squealed.
“So I can go shopping? See a movie? Get my nails done?”
“Anything you want,” I confirmed. “Consider it an unlimited expense account.”
She now twirled the card between her fingers. “So, what’s the limit on the card?”
“Technically?” I leaned back in my chair. “There isn’t one.”
Her eyes sparkled with mock villainy. “That sounds very generous.”
“I meant it as a gesture of goodwill,” I replied, eyeing her cautiously. “Not an invitation to bankrupt me.”
“Too late. I’ve already mentally bought a villa in Positano,” she said, before abruptly reaching forward and grabbing a croissant from the basket. She took a dramatic bite, chewed, and raised her eyebrows in mock awe. “Wow. I almost forgot what joy tastes like.”
I couldn’t help the low laugh that escaped me. Watching her tease, laugh, and eat—it was enough for me to know that I’d made the right choice.
***
When Alisa returned that evening, I noticed the difference immediately. She walked through the front door with shopping bags dangling from her arms, her cheeks flushed pink with life. She looked lighter, brighter.
She caught me watching her as I exited the living room with an apple in hand and, for once—surprise, surprise—she didn’t scowl.
“So, what did you get up to tonight?” I leaned against the door and took a bite.
“I went shopping,” she sighed with bliss. “And had lunch at that little Italian place on Fifth.”
“Gianni’s?” I asked, remembering she’d loved their fettuccine.
“You remember.” She sounded surprised.
I remembered everything about her. But I just nodded. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
