“Alright. I don’t plan on telling anyone. What’s the third condition?”
“Let me be your teacher,” he states. “Come in two hours early to help me with the menu, and stay two hours after for formal training. I’ll make a sous chef out of you yet.”
Eden beams, her sadness melting to give way to hope. “Can I, um...”
“What is it?”
“Is it okay if I hug you?”
Alexander nods, and she throws her arms around him to pull him into a tight embrace. He instinctively hugs her back, wrapping her up in his big arms. It feels absurdly good to hold her.
She’s warm. She smells like vanilla. He doesn’t understand why she feels so right. “Thank you,” she says against his shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. I promise not to let you down. I’ll work so hard, I swear.”
“I know.”
Eden moves away, and Alexander hates it. He doesn’t stop her, though. He finds satisfaction in how relieved she looks.
“God, I really thought I was going to be job hunting,” she admits, laughing nervously.
Alexander shrugs. “I guess it’s your lucky day.”
“Must be.” She clears her throat. “So... Why ‘Alexander’? Kind of stuffy, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head. “It’s getting late. Story for another time.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Okay.”
Alexander rises and Eden follows, sheepishly picking at beneath her nails. She sees him to the front door of the apartment. Before he goes, she asks, “You never answered my question.”
“Which one?”
“About trivia night. Will you come?”
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t really—”
“Pretty please?” She clasps her hands together. “Please, please,please? You don’t even have to really play. Just come and hang out. You can spend the whole night drinking, if you really want to.”
Alexander sighs. He can’t bring himself to say no. He just wants to see her smile.
“Fine.”
Eden cheers, and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. “Here. Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“So, I can give you my number, silly. I’ll text you the address of the bar so we can all meet.”
He relents, fishing his phone out of his back pocket. Eden navigates the screen expertly, adding herself to his contacts before texting her own phone so she has his number. She hands it back, smiling like an idiot.
A gorgeous, pretty idiot.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says.
“See you tomorrow,” he promises.
