The room is dark, and the sound of the city streets outside the window creates a gentle background noise. The small radiator under the window kicks on from time to time, hissing and squealing as it warms the room.
“I was thinking,” I say. “We should go tour some restaurants soon.”
Even in the moonlight, I can see Freya light up. “Really?”
Julian lifts onto his elbow, resting his head on his hand. “I can call my real estate agent. He could probably set us up with some places tomorrow. He’s quick.”
“Tomorrow?” she squeals. “Wait, wait, wait. I need some time to let this reality sink in. It’s moving too fast.”
“Too bad, Chef,” I reply, pressing my lips to her forehead. “The sex we’ll take slow, but your dream restaurant? Not a chance.”
“Do you want a restaurant or not?” Julian asks plainly.
Freya inhales loudly before letting out a surrendering sigh. “I want it.”
“Then we should go look at some options. We don’t have to pick anything right away, but looking at them will make it feel more real.” He’s being very pragmatic, which is probably a good thing, since I rarely am. If I had my way, I’d go buy one sight unseen just to surprise her with it.
Her arm wraps around my waist and squeezes me tighter. When the room settles in silence, I think we all feel the tension radiating off her. She’s nervous, and I know why. She’s taking a lot of money from two men she barely knows. Even if it is an investment, even if she does plan to pay it back, jumping into bed and business with us has her feeling nervous.
Is it wrong of us to dangle her dreams in front of her face? Are we forcing her into this relationship?
“Freya,” I whisper, using her name instead of the usualChef. “You know we want nothing in return for this, right?”
“I’m paying you back,” she argues with dominance in her tone.
“Yes, of course,” I reply with a shake of my head. “I mean…I hope you know we’re not giving you this money just to… This date was amazing and that blow job on the couch otherworldly, and watching you two in the kitchen…” I blow out a breath. “I don’t want you thinking that we’re using the money to…you know.” I’m rambling and completely fucking this up.
Maybe it’s because I grew up in a world with a lot of very rich men, and I watched the influence that money had on the opposite sex and sometimes the same sex. I swore that I would never end up like those guys. Those…creeps.
Which I guess is why I’ve never been one to flaunt my wealth. When I fall for someone, I want them to want me for me.
Freya moves up to her elbow, staring down at me with a gentle lift to the corner of her mouth. The moon shines through the window, catching on dark brown irises. Her thick, dark eyelashes flutter as she smiles. Her hand cradles my face as she says, “It’s actually really sweet of you to even say that.”
“It’s true.”
Leaning down, she presses a quick kiss on my lips. “I know it is.”
Rule #18: Never feel guilty for chasing your dreams.
Freya
Julian: Here’s the address. We’ll meet there at two.
Archer and Julian left an hour ago, and I’m fresh out ofthe shower, scrolling through pictures of the empty restaurant on the website. My hair is wet, drying slowly in loose wavy curls.
Biting my lip, I try to imagine myself in this empty restaurant. It’s small, but small is good for my first restaurant. There’s a red awning over the front door and space on the sidewalk out front for patio seating. There are large windows that open to bring in fresh air in the spring and summer.
Looking at the price tag, I feel sick. And that’s just the building lease. What about the furniture, staff, supplies, food? Am I asking for too much? What if I screw it up and they realize I’m a fraud? Just a girl who likes to cook.
The Kades’ anniversary party is in six weeks, and I still have so much to do for that. I can’t get sidetracked by this new venture and my new love interests and derail my dreams. I have to stay focused.
While I’m towel drying my hair, my phone rings, and I look down to see my mother’s face on the screen. Hitting the green button, I put it on speaker as I answer. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hello, beti,” she replies. “I’m just calling to check in. I haven’t heard from you in two days.”
“Sorry, Mom,” I reply before tossing the towel over the bathtub. “It’s just been busy.”
“Are you ready for that catering job?” she asks. “Did you buy a planner like I suggested? You need something to help you stay organized.”
