"Congratulations are in order, I hear!" Mateo boomed, scanning the room once before zeroing in on April.
She moved toward him without thinking, and when he opened his arms, she walked straight into them. Her head hit hischest, and for the first time since the supply closet, she stopped bracing and just let herself be held.
His voice dropped so only she could here, "Killian called, I dropped everything. I'm sorry, cara."
He pulled back just enough to look at her, hands settling on her shoulders.
"I'm here to feed you better. Put a smile back on that face."
"Can we feed Chad something awful?"
"He will eat grass."
April's mouth twitched. "Good."
His hands slid from her shoulders, but he stayed close, voice warming. "And now that you're single, I can finally do more than flirt across a dining table."
“What do you mean?"
"A private tasting. Tonight. 8:00 p.m. My kitchen." He leaned in, and this time his voice was all intention. "I've wanted to ask you out for two years, but you were taken. Now I get a chance to feed you properly."
April, prepared to tell him it was too soon, that she wasn’t ready, that she still saw on his desk behind her eyes—
Chad clapped Mateo on the shoulder. "Mateo! Great to see you, man. I'm starving. What've you got for the VP?" interrupting her conversation like she was something you could just talk over on your way to the lobster.
April looked at him, nose scrunched. She turned back to Mateo.
"I'll be there."
Mateo's grin widened. "Petty suits you."
Then he turned, his expression cooling as he looked Chad up and down like a hair found in soup.
"Ah, Chad, I haven't forgotten you. I prepared something specific. Based on your recent activities."
He snapped his fingers. A server stepped forward with a flimsy cardboard box. Mateo took it and handed it to Chad with a flourish.
"Four naked cucumber coins. Plain kale. One hard-boiled egg with the shell still on. No fork. A lemon wedge for optimism." Then he gestured to the bottle beside it: room-temperature water labeledARTISANALin Sharpie.
“Since you’ve spent the morning being messy, I thought you might enjoy a cleanse.”
“Wait, where’s the steak?” Chad peeked into the box. “Is this a joke?”
“Same place as your cake,” Mateo said. “You already had it this morning. You don’t get to eat it too.”
Chad took a step toward her, “April.”
Arthur shifted forward; April caught his eye and gave the smallest shake of her head.I have this.He settled back without looking away from Chad.
She looked at Chad—polite and blank, the way you acknowledge someone who’s said your name and nothing else.
“Come on. This is—” He hesitated. Glanced around the office, at Mateo, then back to her. “Just… talk to him. Please. Whatever’s going on, don’t—Don’t let this turn into a thing.”
He gestured helplessly at the kale box, like it was Exhibit A. “Just—tell him I need real food.”
April blinked at him. Tilted her head. ‘Turn what into a thing?’
Chad’s face tightened. He looked at her like someone who’d already inserted money into a vending machine, confused why it wasn’t dispensing.
