“Are you watching me sleep? That’s creepy,” she mumbles without opening her eyes.
I laugh softly. “Only a little creepy. Dinner’s ready.”
She stretches like a cat, eyes still closed. “Mmm, I can smell it from here.” When she finally opens her eyes, they’re clear and alert. The nap did her good. “How long was I out?”
“About three hours. Just remember you needed it.”
She sits up, my robe slipping open, and I see the swell of her breast. “Three hours? God, I never nap that long.”
“My bed has magical powers,” I say, leaning against the doorframe. “Or maybe you just felt safe enough to really rest.”
“Maybe,” she admits quietly.
“You can change into one of my shirts and sweatpants if you want. But you’re welcome to stay in the robe. It makes getting to my dessert quicker.” I wink.
She blushes, swings her legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m starving. Those ribs better be as good as advertised.”
“They’ll change your life,” I promise, offering my hand to help her up.
She takes it, and I pull her into my arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. “So you slept well, then?”
“Better than I have in weeks,” she admits against my chest. “No stress dreams about the law firm or losing cases.”
“What did you dream about?”
She pulls back, looking up at me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Us. College. That time we almost…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Never mind. Let’s eat.”
I need to know more about her dream, but I let it go. There will be time for that later. Instead, I lead her to the kitchen, where I’ve set the table with real plates and silverware, leaving behind my usual paper plates to make it special.
“Wow.” She takes in the spread. “You went all out.”
“Only the best for you, Honeybee.” I pull out her chair. “I figured if I’m going to make good on my promises, I might as well go all in.”
Minji settles in, eyeing the glossy ribs and golden mac and cheese with appreciative hunger. I serve her a generous portion, watching her face for that first reaction. She takes a bite, eyes fluttering shut, and lets out a soft, satisfied sound that sends a jolt of heat through me.
“Okay, you weren’t exaggerating,” she admits, reaching for another bite. “These are incredible.”
“Told you.” I can’t help the pride in my voice. Minji takes another bite and closes her eyes, savoring the flavor.
“I might have to keep you around just for your cooking skills,” she teases. “You and Demi’s cooking is top tier.”
As I watch her savor every bite, an idea sparks. “I think you should start your own firm,” I say.
Minji pauses mid-bite, her fork hovering in the air. “What?”
“Your own law firm,” I continue, leaning forward. “You’re brilliant, Minji. You have clients who adore you. Why keep fighting for a partnership when you could build something that’s entirely yours?”
She sets her fork down carefully. “Because starting a firm requires capital, connections, and a lot of risk. I’d need office space, staff, equipment?—”
“I could back you.” I interrupt. “Financially, I mean. I could put up the money.”
Her eyes widen. “Aaron, that’s?—”
“Before you say it’s crazy, hear me out.” I reach across the table for her hand. “My last two books did really well. Better than well, actually. I’ve been sitting on the money, not sure what to do with it. This would be an investment in you, in something I believe in.”
“You can’t just hand me hundreds of thousands of dollars,” she says, but I notice she hasn’t pulled her hand away.
“Why not? People invest in businesses they believe in every day. And I believe in you, Minji. More than anything.” I squeeze her fingers gently. “Think about it, your name on the door. Your rules. No more assholes stealing your clients or someone dangling partnerships like carrots.”
