11. Nina
Nina
I ’ve been elbows-deep in renovations this week,barely catching my breath.
I’m keeping myself busy so I can distract myself from Mom’s constant calls.
It’s like she knows that I’m not actually working on making a shop or a website or anything related to selling the jacket for that matter.
But I’m worried I’m not going to be able to hold her off for much longer.
Even with the busyness of the renovations, I still meet Evren for coffee in the morning and this week we’ve accidentally (on purpose?) happened to be in the kitchen together at the same time for dinner every night.
We have an unspoken agreement to meet at seven thirty every evening.
He orders takeout and we just…spend time together.
He asks about my day, wanting me to go into detail about how I decide on a style for whatever room I’ m decorating, and then, when we finish eating, he goes and sees for himself, complimenting me every time.
Today is the first day he’s asked to make sure I’m coming for dinner.
It makes me curious to know what’s going on.
After my quick shower, I throw on a T-shirt dress I made with Evren’s logo and the words “I bring every man to his knees” on it.
I started making these things to annoy him, but now they just make me laugh.
I breeze into the kitchen and stop dead when I spot Evren next to the table.
He’s wearing his usual white button-down and black slacks, but the sleeves are rolled up and the top two buttons are undone.
On the table are candles and a shit ton of food served family-style in the middle that smells so good, my stomach is already rumbling in anticipation.
“Funny.” He nods at my dress. “Because that’s exactly where I was planning to be all night long.”
“All night?” I ask, trying to ignore how my breath catches, a shiver rolling down my spine like a whispered secret at what he’s insinuating. “Let’s see if you’ve got the stamina for that due to your old age.”
He laughs and says, “I’m more than happy to prove you wrong.”
I ignore his comment and instead take a seat in one of my jewel-toned upholstered chairs and wave a hand toward the table. “What’s this all about?”
“I wanted to celebrate that we finally have a table, so I had some of my favorite Turkish foods made.”
“By a chef? I thought that was only reserved for special occasions?”
“Isn’t finally getting a table worth a special celebration?”
“I guess…” I run a finger along the smooth surface.
“It was worth the wait, though.” I wanted a showstopper, and Evren, without knowing that, made sure it happened.
When I protested the price, Evren claimed that it’s his thank-you to Stella for allowing him to stay here.
Even if that’s true, it doesn’t stop me from feeling like there’s a debt between us.
“It was,” he agrees softly. “Do you want to try some of everything?”
I nod, relieved I don’t have to choose, and he plates up some of everything for me.
“This,” he says, pointing to the yellow-colored soup, “is lentil soup. On the right of your plate is zeytinya?li pirasa, which is leeks, carrots, and rice cooked in oil. Next to it is karniyarik, which is eggplant stuffed with ground beef, peppers, and tomatoes. And lastly, there is the hünkar be?endi, which is lamb stew on a smoky and cheesy eggplant puree.”
I don’t even pay attention to the descriptions because him saying words in Turkish so smoothly?
Holy hell. Is it hot in here? The words flow with a melodic rhythm.
There’s a softness to them, and yet, at the same time, there is a strength and power that commands attention.
I’ve heard him speak Turkish before, but I guess I haven’t paid attention until now .
“Is everything all right?” Evren asks.
I clear my throat and say, “Yes, of course. It all sounds delicious.”
He smiles and says, “ Afiyet olsun .”
“What does that mean?”
“Something along the lines of enjoy your food .”
And enjoy I do. It’s all so different, but amazing.
The lentil soup? Never knew I liked them until now.
The leeks? Might become my new favorite dish.
The eggplant boats are smoky and pair perfectly with the ground meat and tomatoes.
But my absolute favorite is the lamb and eggplant puree.
It’s so good that I could lick my plate.
The meat literally melts in my mouth, and the eggplant puree is better than any mashed potato I’ve ever eaten.
“So…” Evren says. “I have a favor to ask you.”
“Okay?”
“I would like to sincerely ask for your help. I’ve been looking into the team’s women’s apparel line, and something’s wrong, but I can’t figure it out.
I’m a numbers guy, not a fashion guy, and I need to get to the bottom of what’s going on because we might only get the sponsorship with Glam Pop by improving it. ”
I hold back my immediate no. What he’s asking is different from the franchise deal for the jacket. All he’s asking for is a little advice, something I’d do in a heartbeat for a friend. And I guess we kind of are friends now. Friends who just so happened to have kissed once.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” I ask. “Us working together? ”
“Probably not, since I don’t like to mix business and pleasure.”
“Pleasure, huh?”
“Pleasure,” he states firmly, his smirk dripping with trouble and temptation. “But.” He grows serious. “I’m desperate. Please? Can you help? It’ll only be a few minutes of your time.”
Over the past weeks, I’ve come to not hate Evren, which is saying a lot. The truth is, he’s kind, and he did get a custom table. Spending a few minutes helping him wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done.
“Fine,” I say. “Do you have the current offerings with you in the house?”
“Yes, as well as the past five years, but we don’t have to look at it now.”
“I don’t mind,” I say. “I’m curious.”
“In that case, let me get them from my room.”
He pushes away from the table and comes back a moment later. He hands me the catalogs and I flip through them as I eat.
“Yikes,” I say when I finish.
“What is it?”
“All the shapes are boxy, and the designs are shit and can’t be used outside of a game day or be used as layers.
Let’s not even talk about the drab, masculine colors and designs, and cheap fabrics that are such a turnoff.
Where is the size inclusivity? The options for women besides a shirt that won’t fit right or look cute on any woman’s body? ”
“Can you show me specifically what you mean?” He pushes his chair so that he’s sitting right next to me. “What is boxy?”
I flip to a page that has a shirt on it and point to it. “These are probably made for men, but a woman’s shirt needs to be cut differently or else it’ll look like a literal box on us.”
I go on to explain and show what I mean, and he takes notes on his phone. When we finish, he sits back in his chair in shock.
“Shit,” he says. “The entire line needs to be revamped.”
“Most definitely.”
“Thank you.” He looks me dead in the eye. “Seriously, thank you.”
I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is. I just need to figure out if the design team can do better.”
“Give them the feedback and I’d be happy to look at some of their new designs to see if they’re on the right track.
” I’m not sure why I offer that, especially when I technically only agreed to help him right now.
Maybe it’s because he’s looking at me like I’m someone special, like I’m smart—something I’ve never been told before.
And yet, here’s a billionaire businessman, and he needs me for my brain.
No man has ever been attracted to my personality or my smart mouth.
It was purely physical and only stayed on a hookup level.
But in this moment, I feel powerful, like we’re almost equals .
“Thank you.” Surprise flickers across his face before he hides it. “Please let me compensate you for your time.”
“Ew, don’t make it gross and add money into the picture. Me consulting on this is my thank-you for the table.”
“As you wish.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“What?” he asks.
“You accepted too easily,” I say. “What are you planning?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” I give him a hard stare, as if willing him to crack.
He stares back, steadily and confidently.
He’s like a magnet, pulling me not only toward him but also up to a new height.
When I look at him, all my worries become quiet, and it’s terrifying.
I’m so used to carrying around the burden that is life, that I don’t know what to do with a little extra breathing room.
I feel lighter than I ever have before, bordering on weightless.
I don’t know what’s going on, or what’s between us, but there’s a surge in the air, palpable and intense.
Every forbidden thought and feeling I’ve ever had rushes to the surface,desperate for release, desperate for him.
But thoughts of Mom dash it all. If she ever found out I was not only staying with a billionaire, but sleeping with one too…
I shudder, a cold chill creeping across my skin at the thought .
“Thanks for dinner,” I say, standing so suddenly my chair scrapes across the floor. I need some fresh air, air that’s not being shared with Evren and air that doesn’t tempt me with every breath I take.
“No. You don’t get to leave like this. Sit back down.”
“Leave like what?” I ask. Normally, I would defy him, but something about his authority is intoxicating. It’s a forbidden attraction, a thrill I can’t resist, for someone to take control and let me not be the strong one for once.
“Like you’re running away,” he says.
“I’m not running. I just know when to leave before things turn messy.”
“Because keeping your distance is easier than admitting you feel something.”