I dropped the letter, hands still shaking. I looked in the envelope and found the business card with his cell number and email address. What the hell was this about? It’d been close to five years since I’d last spoken to Ethan, and the last thing I knew about him he was still living in D.C. I had no desire to look him up or find out what was going on in his life.
I told myself I should throw the letter out and forget this ever happened. I even grabbed the letter, prepared to rip it up or, better yet, stick it in my shredder, but instead, I refolded it, placed it back in the envelope and stuck it in my desk drawer. I tried desperately to get back to work. I didn’t want or need this in my life. I wasn’t the same person I was five years ago and never wanted to go back there again. Still, even as I tried to convince myself of all that, the contents of that letter played over and over in my mind.
****
“More flowers,” I laughed as I opened the door to a grinning Xavier. This time he held a bouquet of pink roses. They were beautiful.
“A little birdie told me you like flowers.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A birdie, huh?”
“That’s what I said,” he added cockily.
He was right; I did love flowers. I kept an assortment of plants in my condo and often bought myself bouquets to have on the dining room table, although I rarely ate there. They just had a way of brightening up a room.
“How was your trip?” I questioned over my shoulder as he stood by the door while I went to put the newest bouquet in water. When I turned, I noticed his eyes on my ass in my black pleated skirt. My entire body heated when his gaze rose to my eyes, and he didn’t even bother to try and hide the fact that he’d just been staring at my ass. I turned, putting the flowers in one of the last vases I had under my sink, sneaking glances at Xavier. He was dressed in charcoal gray suit pants and a crisp white shirt that was tucked in at the waist with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The business casual look worked for him. Hell, any look worked for him.
As I started toward him from the kitchen, his phone buzzed. Staring at the screen, the space between his brows pinched.
“Yeah, Billy, what’s up?” His tone was crisp. “When did that happen?”
I tilted my head, realizing this was a business call. His tone, the way his body straightened, all added up to the fact that this was not a personal matter.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he sighed, hanging up. “Hey, do you mind—?”
“Yeah, if you needed to cancel.” I waved it off, masking my disappointment.
“If you’d let me finish... I don’t need to cancel, but I need to stop at one of my restaurants to sign some papers and talk with a repairman. It shouldn’t take too long, but we’ll be a little late for our reservation.”
“Oh, uh yeah, that’s fine.”
“You sure? If you’re too hungry to wait, I can—”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind stopping. Plus we’re going toGrant’sfor dinner, right? What’re they gonna do, give the owner’s dinner reservation away to someone else?”
He chuckled. “No, they definitely won’t be doing that. A’ight, cool. You should bring a jacket though; they usually crank the AC up inGrant’s.” He eyed my sleeveless chiffon purple top.
I nodded, grabbing a lightweight sweater from my coat rack and Xavier held the door open for me, ever the gentleman.
“Which spot of yours needs rescuing this evening?” I questioned as we pulled out.
“It’s about ten minutes from here. One of my fast food spots.”
I crinkled my brow. “I didn’t know you still owned fast food restaurants too.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I sold most of them some years back, but I keep a few in my portfolio. Come on,” he directed a few minutes later, once we pulled into the parking lot. He helped me out of the car. It was around dinner time, so the place was busy, full of students who’d just finished whatever after-school activities they’d been into, parents rushing to pick up dinner on their way home from work.
“Hey, X.” A man who looked to be in his mid-twenties greeted Xavier as we made our way to the back of the place into a tiny office. Xavier greeted every employee by their first name as we passed.
“Billy, did they get the oven fixed?” Xavier asked.
I remained quiet, looking around the office that was just a small cutout of the back kitchen area. I watched as mostly teens and young adults manned the ovens and prepared meals and took orders. It looked just like organized chaos. I smirked when I saw a couple of teenage girls whisper to one another, then look over at Xavier and giggle. I couldn’t blame them; he had that effect on me too.
“Thanks for coming in, man. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening.” I heard Billy say. “I just need you to sign these forms.”
It wasn’t until Xavier pulled his hand away to grab the clipboard Billy held out to him that I even realized he’d still been holding my hand. And for some strange reason, my hand felt bereft when he let it go. The two men talked some more, and then Xavier went to speak with another of his employees while I waited in the office. Minutes later, he was leading me out the back door, which was closest to where he’d parked.
“Why’d they need you back there?” I asked as we continued on our way to dinner.
