Chapter 14
Harper
“We don’t actually haveto do this you know. I’m fairly certain no paparazzi are following us or peering through the window to check up,” I say as we finish unpacking the grocery bags in his kitchen.
“Oh come on, Saint, you afraid of my cooking?”
“Maybe a little.” I laugh.
“Just trust me. They’re good. Go set up the TV and see if you can find what you want to watch while I get started.”
It feels weird, being in his space, acting like we’re domestic together. It’s not like we haven’t eaten together before. He’d come to a million holiday dinners and BBQs at Drew’s and my house. But the two of us alone like a couple is strange. Then throw in the fact that we’re at his place which I’ve never set foot in before, and now I feel like I’m through the looking glass.
After a few minutes, I’ve picked a couple of movies and I wander back into the kitchen because I’m very curious about what it looks like to see Alexander Xavier cooking.
“You find something?” He glances up at me as he gets the griddle ready.
“Yeah, a couple of things. I was going to let you pick since it’s your house and all.”
“All right. I was just thinking, for our first event do you want to go to that donor gala with me later this week?”
“By donor gala do you mean the invite-only one at the art museum that people would kill to get tickets to?”
“Yes?” He looks at me warily.
“Yeah. I’m not supposed to be there. That’s like upper management and board attendees only.”
“Well, you’re not going for work. You’re going as my date.”
“Still that’s like… cheating for me to be there. You have to earn your way to something like that in my world.”
“Well, I have to go, or at least I really should, and I’d rather not do it solo.”
“Why not?”
“Most of the other guys I know who are going all have wives or girlfriends, so it makes me an awkward extra wheel. It also usually means the women I run into think I’m a free agent. Would be easier to avoid that with you there.”
“Well, I can’t have those harpies touching my man,” I tease him.
“So you’ll go?” There’s a hint of hope in his voice.
“Even if I wanted to, it’s black tie. I don’t have anything to wear to that. I’ve never had to attend anything that fancy before.”
“So take my card, or Sam knows some people who could pull some things if you don’t have time to go shopping. Just send her your measurements and she’ll take care of it.”
“Just send her my measurements. Right… No way, Alex. I’m not having you buy me things like that. And god knows whoever Sam works with is going to buy expensive things.”
“It’s not like I don’t have the money. And also, you’re eating the dinner I bought you. The candy. Watching a movie that I’m going to rent.”
“That’s one thing. This is different.”
“You realize I probably bought the clothes you’re wearing now and half the things in your house, right?” His eyes drift over me.
“What?” I stare at him.
“I’m Drew’s biggest client. His salary is a percentage of mine.” He raises a brow as he looks at me before he turns his focus back to filling the tortilla before he throws butter down and tosses it on the griddle.
“I…” I start and then stop because he has a point.
“Never thought about that before?” He smirks at me.
“No, but I see you have. I assume you tormented Drew about owning his TV and his grill?”
“Nah. If I was going to torment him, I’d bring up other things.” His smirk spreads and he turns the quesadilla.
“Like?”
“Oh, I’m not walking into that trap, Saint.” He shakes his head. Another moment later and he plates the quesadilla, handing it to me. “There’s guacamole, salsa, and sour cream over there.” He nods to the counter on the other side of the kitchen.
I wander over to it, but I’m burning with curiosity about what he means. I glance back at him before I move to put the toppings on. Stopping when I realize what I’m looking at.
“Did you… did you make guacamole from scratch?” I raise a brow.
“Yeah. I hate the store-bought stuff. Not enough lime. Try it. I promise it’s good.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d been looking at movies long enough for him to have time for that. It looks good. So does the quesadilla. I always just assumed he hired someone for all this or ordered in every night, so the fact that he does some of his own cooking is kind of impressive. Not that it’s a high bar, but then I’d made a lot of assumptions about him.
“I just can’t believe you’re this domesticated. If the women find out they’re going to go even more feral for you than they already do.” I grin at it. “Does Sam know you cook? I feel like if she did, she would have told you to post a recipe video to social media already.”
“I don’t cook. I just make a few things,” he grumbles as he puts his quesadilla on the griddle.
“Fine. You should make a few things for the camera then. Let them see you in the kitchen.”
“Don’t give her ideas.”
“I mean, it would be a good look if you were a tad more domesticated. You know?”
“Isn’t that your job? To domesticate and reform me?” The teasing tone returns to his voice.
“Ha. I’m not up to that task. I don’t know what woman is, but good luck to her.”
“Oh, I think you could handle it. You’d just have to apply yourself.” He turns around and smirks at me.
“I guess I at least have to figure out how to fake it, huh?”
His smirk widens. “Seems that way. Now go eat your quesadilla while it’s hot. I’ll be right there.”
A short whilelater we’ve finished dinner and there’s a break in the movie. He sneaks off for a second and then returns, tossing a bag of candy in my lap.
“Not a real movie date until the candy.” He sits down on the couch next to me.
The proximity between us has me feeling all kinds of odd. Because while I keep trying to remember who he is to me, I also can’t help the fact that he makes me feel like a teenage girl with a crush again.
“I mean I don’t think this is a real movie date. It’s like practice for faking it. Not that I need practice on that front,” I say it absently as I open the bag, forgetting for a moment who I’m talking to.
He makes a face, his lips crumpling before he puts another piece of candy in his mouth.
I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s that face for?”
“Me trying not to say something that’s going to get me in trouble.”
I punch him lightly in the shoulder.
“Ow. See that’s what I was avoiding.”
“I’m seriously a bit worried though. The whole dating post-divorce thing is weird. You get so used to one person and assume that’s it. And now I’m just out here having to think about first dates, and first kisses and like… how do you prepare for that? I mean I guess you do it all the time. It doesn’t bother you. You’re never nervous when it’s a new person all the time?” This is probably a stupid question to be asking a man like Alexander, but I can’t help wondering.