“And that’s why you have the big penthouse. Fortunately, it is already decorated.” I added various cold cuts to the cart.
“You could have ordered this online,” Owen said.
“No way. Who knows what they'll try and sneak past you? No, I have to inspect my food. I have standards,” I said as I attempted to pick up a frozen turkey as big as Owen's dog and put it in the cart. He took it from me then grabbed another one.
“Are you sure you want two?”
“You ate my Thanksgiving leftovers. Besides, in England, they eat turkey during Christmas, so it seems like it should be considered a Christmas food for our purposes,” Owen said. He pushed his two carts behind me as I guided mine to the dairy section.
“Look at you being a Christmas expert!” I exclaimed, squeezing his arm. “I need to buy you your own collection of sexy holiday outfits.”
“Uh… Change of topic,” Owen said. “How’s the restaurant?”
“Speaking of, I should ask Fiona if she wants to go in on it with me,” I said happily as I loaded armfuls of European butter into the cart. “It’s going to be too much for one person. I have big ambitions.”
“Did you think of a name yet?” Owen asked.
“Names are so hard,” I complained as we headed to fruits and vegetables. “I'm not even sure what kind of food I want to serve,” I said as I placed several squashes into the shopping cart.
“I know I want to serve happy-hour cocktails, especially if there's a hotel in the building. Oh, you know what? I totally want to do bento boxes. Just something portable and yummy people can quickly pick up and take away. I guess I'll also need to find a closer apartment. Fiona's been letting me stay in her apartment, but it's super tiny.”
“I was thinking,” Owen said then trailed off. I looked up at him. “I mean if you want, you're free to live with me. I have a lot of room,” he offered.
“I don't want to impose.”
He took me in his arms. “There's nothing I want more than to have you in my life, in my home, in my bed every day,” Owen whispered.
I melted against him as he kissed me. “I don't know if you want to live with me and all my Christmas stuff,” I said with a laugh after he released me.
“How much can it be?” he teased. “I have a three-story penthouse. I can spare a closet for you.”
“I might need a whole suite,” I admitted.
“I thought you said you had all your stuff with you in a tiny apartment.”
“Eh, yeah?” I looked up at the ceiling. “I have all the Christmas stuff from my grandmother in storage. Like her entire house’s worth of Christmas stuff. It was all my good childhood memories. She made Christmas fun and warm and lovely,” I said, remembering the happy Christmases spent in her home. “She would invite all her friends over who would otherwise be alone for Christmas, and we'd have a big party on Christmas Eve. Then on Christmas Day, we'd visit people in nursing homes or pay house visits to people who were sick.”
Owen was quiet a minute.
“Or I can throw most of it out. I just have to sort through it.”
“It's fine; bring it here.”
“Really?” I said, delighted. “There's so much cool stuff! She used to collect antique Christmas paraphernalia. She even had a piece of cake from a Christmas party Queen Victoria hosted.”
Owen tried not to make a face. “That sounds—”
“Excessive? Yes, I know, but it's a piece of history, and you can't throw it away.”
“You keep it in storage?”
“It’s a special storage unit. Very pricy unfortunately.” I tried not to feel sad. Would I even be able to retrieve all the decorations before the storage facility auctioned everything off?
Owen looked at me in concern. I wasn't going to burden him with my issues. I hadn’t paid the bill. It was my own fault. I refused to have Owen think I was solely after him for his money.
“I don't think I brought enough reusable shopping bags for all of this,” I said as the cashier rang up all the food.
*
