Brenden didn’t want to lie to her, so he ignored her statement. “I’m kind of swamped right now with work and don’t have long to talk. So, what can I do for you?”
She was silent on the other end of the phone, too silent that Brenden thought she hung up.
“Is it possible for us to meet? There’s a favor I need to ask.”
“Why can’t you ask me now?” He didn’t mean to sound brisk, but he didn’t want to give her any hopes of them getting back together.
“This is something that should be done face to face,” she responded.
“Fine,” he sighed. “I get off work in a couple of hours. I will meet you at the…”
“Do you mind coming to my house for dinner? I promise strictly friends nothing else.”
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.
“I…”
“I’m serious, Brenden, just friends,” she whispered.
“Okay, what time?” he asked.
“Everything should be ready at seven,” she said then hung up the phone just as there was a knock at his door.
“Hey,” Stephen said, getting his attention. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Um… I won’t be over for dinner tonight.” Brenden had spent every night at Stephen’s home, eating and getting to know his son. They got into an unspoken routine and acted like a family.
“Oh, okay.” The disappointed look on Stephen’s face did not sit well with him.
“Yeah, a friend asked me to hang out with them tonight. I will try to get there before you put Nick to bed.”
“No, don’t do that. You know how early he gets to bed, so no rush. He will understand if you’re not there one night. Have fun with your friend.” Stephen walked out of his office and for some reason he felt guilty for not tell the other man it was his ex-girlfriend.
** ** ** ** **
Brenden knocked on the door and waited for Paige to answer. He’d stayed at work late clearing off some of the never-ending paperwork on his desk. Which was why he hadn’t seen the need to go home and change. Instead, to give it the casual air as he left his tie and jacket in the car and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and rolled up his shirt sleeves.
He did not want to give Paige the impression they could rekindle anything between them. She opened the door when he was about to knock again. She was dressed the way he remembered the first time he’d met her. Black high waist pencil skirt, blue blouse tucked into the waist of her skirt. He exhaled mentally, thanking the gods that this might not be so bad after all.
“Hey, Brenden, come in,” she said with a smile, tucking a lock of her red hair behind her ear as she stepped to the side holding the door open for him.
He handed her the bottle of wine he’d brought. “I wasn’t sure what you were making for dinner, but I brought this. Red goes with everything, right?” he said with a smile, and she chuckled back.
“It's perfect actually, thank you.” She closed the door behind him, then walked around him to get to her kitchen. Her place was ideal for someone who lived alone. A modest one-bedroom townhouse, large enough spaces in each room. He walked over to the kitchen and leaned against the entrance.
“So why did you want to see me?” he asked. If he could leave without having dinner that would be fine by him. He was still feeling guilty for not telling Stephen where he was going.
“After we eat,” Paige answered, brushing past him as she walked around him to get to the dining room.
“Okay, so what’s for dinner?”
“I made your favorite, veal piccata.”
What the hell? Her back was facing him, so she did not see his shocked expression.I hate veal. Where the hell did she get the idea that I like veal? Maybe I should tell her I don’t like veal.But she went through all the trouble of making it. “Oh,” was all he said when she turned around with a bright, proud smile on her face.
“Do you mind uncorking the wine, so it could breathe?”
“Yeah, sure, no problem. Where’s the wine opener?” he yelled when he walked into the kitchen.
