He found a bowl and cracked five eggs. "You want one or not?" He started whisking.
She let out a sigh while texting. "I guess I'll have a little bit, but we are really late."
He pulled two more eggs out and whisked them. "All right, here we go." He found some cheese in the refrigerator.
Fifteen minutes later, they were both eating at the kitchen island.
She looked deflated. "I had to push all my meetings back, but I don't meet with the board until four, so I'll be able to get some work done before that meeting."
He shrugged, confused. "Why did you reach out to my brother if you're acting like my presence is an inconvenience?"
That made her stop short. Her eyes fluttered, and he remembered that fluttering. He remembered this woman. How many times during missions had he thought about her, especially before they thought they were going to die? How many times had he wished for a different outcome, that she would have said yes and told him he could only have two years in the SEALs before retiring? Anything that would have changed how it all ended for him.
"I just like to be punctual, and I like for people to be able to count on me," she finally said.
He stood and picked up her plate. She'd only had four bites. He placed his plate in the sink and ate the rest of hers. He grabbed a glass and got a drink of water.
"Well, punctuality isn't really my thing when it comes to security. If I don't feel like something's safe, we won't do it. I guess I'm going to have to pose as a new corporate executive or something if you don't want me to be security."
She let out a light off-key laugh. "Right. Like anyone would believe you were anything except security."
Her quip made him laugh. He went to the little countertop that had a basket of keys. Before she'd come home, he'd done reconnaissance work. She had a Hellcat in the garage.
"Let's go. I'll drive." He didn't ask. He just went out, got inside the car, and fired it up, backing out for her.
Once again, her mouth hung open as she got inside the car. "I knew you were always bossy, but this is ridiculous." She shut the door and put on her seat belt.
He took off, heading toward her office location he had already memorized. The traffic moved steadily around them, the city's skyline gleaming in the distance.
"Really, more ridiculous than saying no to marrying me?" he asked.
This time she froze. She didn't move.
He let out a light laugh. "Hey, stop being so easy to torture. Okay, that was what, fourteen years ago? I think we're good. I don't cry in my sleep every night, if you're worried about it."
Her face reddened, which told him everything. Maybe she did still think about him, or she was embarrassed. He didn't have to keep wondering, because she said, "Look, let's just talk about that because I've had to feel guilty about this for fourteen years."
Once again, he laughed. "Well, I've had a bruised ego about it, so I guess guilt is something."
He spun away from the route. Instead of heading into the office, he turned toward a department store.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I told you, I need to ditch these clothes." He grunted. "Hope you have the corporate card. But I don't think the department store is going to be too much."
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. Head back closer to my building. I'm going to reach out to my private tailor."
He circled the block. "Wow. Private tailor, okay?"
She scoffed. "Like your family doesn't have one."
He shrugged, brightly colored storefronts passing by. "I don't know. Reed probably has one."
She pointed to a building two doors down from hers. "Just go ahead and park on the street. Anton is going to meet us at the doors."
He parked and waited.
She put her hand on his arm. "Listen, you caught me off guard with that proposal back then. I didn't know what to say. I mean, I'd just gotten accepted to Harvard."
