Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
The following Saturday, I no longer lived alone.
“Come in! Set everything down in the foyer,” I said to Robert as he stepped into my apartment with a cardboard box in his hands.
His eyes moved as he took in my large foyer, including the paintings of gardens and pastures that hung on the walls. “Wow. It’s like a museum,” he said, setting his box down on the floor out of the way.
“Thank you,” I said with a laugh, as I led him into the main living area. “I hope you don’t mind that my place is a bit… feminine.” I had a vase of roses sitting on the dining table and my cream colored sofa was covered with pale pink throw cushions and a baby blue blanket.
“I don’t mind at all. It smells good in here.”
I pointed to the wax burner on a nearby wall. “Cotton candy paradise.”
He raised a brow at me. “Cotton candy paradise?”
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for sweet scents.”
Robert held his hands up. “Fine by me. Let me grab the rest of my stuff from my car.”
I went down the elevator with him, intending to help out, but he managed to carry the rest of his luggage by himself. I was surprised that he had so few possessions — a single suitcase and a few boxes — but it was a relief too. It made him seem like the clean type, unlikely to leave clutter around.
I couldn’t stand living with slobs or hoarders. Growing up, my parents’ house was always a mess. Mom left stacks of celebrity magazines all over the place, Brandon left his shoes and socks on the floor, and Dad never cleaned up after himself in the kitchen. We could never afford to fix anything either. I never invited any of my friends from school over because I was too embarrassed of the house’s damaged furniture and stained carpet.
Once Robert and I were back in my apartment, I showed him his bedroom. It was already furnished with a queen-sized bed, a dresser, a standing lamp, and a flat-screen TV. Whenever I had a friend stay over, they usually slept in this room. The floor to ceiling windows faced the west, so they had a gorgeous view of the sun setting over the city.
Robert set his things down and walked over to the bed, his hands drifting over the soft sheets. “It’s perfect,” he murmured, and I wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to himself or to me.
“Here’s the heating and cooling settings,” I explained. “You can open the windows if you like, and the bathroom’s just down the hallway.”
He smiled at me. “You’ve been so generous, Brooke.” Despite being a big, masculine man, his words were so gentle. “I’ll pay for all the utilities and cook for us,” he continued.
My eyes widened. “Oh, you don’t have to do all of that. The rent you’re paying is more than enough.”
During the week, I’d drawn up a formal rental contract for him. I wanted to make sure this arrangement followed all the landlord and tenant laws, and I suggested he get another lawyer to look over it to make sure I wasn’t screwing him. He’d shaken his head and said he trusted me. As a lawyer, I should have admonished him. Instead, my skin went warm, and I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I insist,” Robert said now, in a tone that suggested he wouldn’t hear otherwise. He took a step closer, and I could smell the clean, woodsy scent of his clothes. “It won’t take me long to unpack. What do you say about going grocery shopping afterward?”
“Sure,” I said. “We can, if you want to.” I didn’t have anything else planned for the day, but I wasn’t super enthusiastic about visiting a supermarket. I found shopping for food tedious and had recently started getting groceries delivered, since it saved time.
Half an hour later, we were walking down the aisle of a supermarket. Robert was pushing the cart, and he’d rolled his sleeves up to reveal toned forearms dusted with brown hair.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “Apples, oranges, and bananas are the most boring fruits. They’re not even that sweet.”
Robert raised an eyebrow at me. “You’ve got a sweet tooth, have you?”
“You should’ve guessed the moment I mentioned Cotton Candy Paradise.”
He laughed, a deep rumble that vibrated from his chest. “Touché,” he said, and his smile was so big and wide, it made my heart squeeze.
I’d always thought grocery shopping was boring, but maybe that’s because I always did it alone. Somehow, Robert being here with me made it fun.
We left the fruit and vegetable section and moved down a different aisle, discussing what foods we liked.
“How do you feel about pasta?” Robert asked. “Everyone likes pasta.”
“I do like pasta,” I admitted. “Lasagna too. Ooh, and pizza!”
Robert chuckled, pushing the trolley toward the shelves where the noodles and sauce were located.
“So, you cook often then?” I asked, picking some packets of spaghetti off the shelves.
“Yep. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t know how to. Giving you food poisoning wouldn’t be a very nice way to pay you back for your generosity.”
I smiled. “How’d you learn?”
“Trial and error, mostly,” he said, grabbing a couple of jars of pasta sauce. “I only learned relatively recently. After I…” he paused. “After I started living by myself.”
After his divorce?
I nodded, changing the topic because I didn’t want to pry. “Well, I’m pretty excited to try homemade lasagna.”
“You’ll love it,” Robert said, and we wandered out of the aisle and down the next one, which was dedicated to breakfast food.
“Are you a breakfast kind of woman?” he asked.
“I’m more of a coffee-and-banana type of person, but there’s nothing like a bowl of cereal at midnight before bed.”
He grinned at me, and it transformed his face, making him look younger. “Agreed,” he said.
We discussed our favorite cereals, and despite our age difference of almost twenty years, our childhood favorite was the same: the rainbow-colored stuff that claimed to be fruit-flavored but really was just sugar.
We grabbed two boxes.
A little further down the aisle was the coffee and tea. “Ooh, I need to stock up on this,” I said, reaching for my favorite brand of green tea. I always had a cup every night before bed.
I wasn’t particularly short at 5 foot 7, but even the top shelf was out of reach for me. I got on my tippy toes, stretching out my arm as far as I could. Just as my fingertips grazed the front of the box, I felt the heat of another body behind mine.
Robert easily reached over me and grabbed the box of tea off the shelf. Even though he’d been careful not to touch me, I shivered, as if he had.
What was with me? Even the smallest thing was making me flustered.
I’d be living with Robert until he found a new place. Sure, he was a man — a tall, built, handsome man. But I couldn’t blush every time he was near me. I had to get myself together.
“We need maple syrup,” Robert said after popping the tea into the cart, oblivious to my thoughts. “I make a mean batch of pancakes.”
I pushed my embarrassment away and smiled at him. “Pancakes for dinner tonight?”
Robert lifted an eyebrow at me, the corner of his mouth turning up in a grin that I could only describe as sexy. “I like how you think.”
“To surviving another week. Cheers.”
I smiled as I clinked my mimosa glass against Alison’s and Emilia’s. My friends and I made it a point to have brunch on Sunday as often as our schedules allowed, and it was always great to see them since we were so busy during the week.
I’d met Alison and Emilia in college, and we’d instantly become close because we were all ambitious. Now, Alison was the CEO of her own marketing firm, and Emilia had an amazing job at a finance company. We’d all achieved our dreams.
Sometimes I wished I could go back in time to college when we’d study all night at the library together.
Don’t worry , I’d tell our younger selves. You’ll make it.
If I could travel back in time, I’d also visit my high school self. She’d be locked in her room, studying hard, trying to block out the TV blaring in the living room.
Keep working hard, I’d tell her. You’re going to achieve all your dreams. You won’t live here anymore. You’ll live in a huge apartment in the city. It’ll be clean and quiet and peaceful.
Emilia took a hearty sip of her drink. “I needed that,” she said. “I’ve had the worst week at work.”
“What happened?” Alison asked.
“Just my awful, irritating, infuriating coworker,” she said. “Even though we’re at the same level, he acts like my manager. He thinks he’s all that just because he’s…” she trailed off.
A slow smile spread over my face because I knew Emilia well enough to know exactly what she was thinking.
“Because he’s hot?” I finished.
She glared at me. “He’s not that attractive.” She took another sip of her cocktail. “Anyway, work’s the reason I’m drinking today.”
Alison and I shared an amused look, but we knew better than to push. Emilia had a habit of ranting about a certain coworker before clamming up and refusing to talk about it.
“What about you, Alison?” I asked. “Any news?”
“Not really. Work’s been good, the same as usual. I saw Cameron’s family yesterday, which was lovely.”
Almost a year ago, Alison had started dating Cameron. He had been her executive assistant, and she’d had a crush on him for years. It was only after they got involved that what she felt for him was love, not just lust. There’d been a lot of drama, but eventually, everything worked out. Cameron was no longer working for her, but for another company, and they were really happy. They’d moved in together a few months ago, and I suspected they’d get engaged soon.
“Did they come to you, or did you go to them?” Emilia asked.
“We visited them,” Alison said. “Cameron’s mom is an amazing cook. I’ll have to get her to teach me.”
My mind flashed back to last night when Robert had made a whole stack of pancakes, as well as bacon and eggs for protein. The food had been heavenly. He hadn’t lied — he was an excellent cook.
I’d sat on a stool at the kitchen island, talking to him. I’d offered to help, but he insisted I sit back and relax.
I’d tried not to notice how good he’d looked — a big, broad-shouldered man who moved around the kitchen with confidence and laughed easily.
“Your turn, Brooke,” Emilia said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I can tell you have news. Spill it.”
I blinked. “Well…” I began.
The truth was, I could trust my best friends with anything. They always had my back — more than ten years of friendship proved that. But…
Let’s just say that if one of them told me they’d invited a practical stranger to live with them, I’d think they lost their minds.
“Oh, no,” Alison said, her brow creasing. “It’s not bad news, is it?”
“It isn’t, not at all,” I said quickly. “I’m living with someone.”
“What?” Emilia demanded, jaw dropping. “Who? A boyfriend?”
“You don’t have a boyfriend,” Alison said. “Unless…he’s a secret boyfriend?”
I shook my head, fighting off the slight warmth in my cheeks. “No, he’s not a boyfriend.”
At that moment, the waiter appeared, placing our meals in front of us. I had ordered avocado toast, Emilia had eggs benedict, and Alison had gone with a granola and fruit bowl.
After the waiter left, my friends leaned in closer, eyes wide.
“You said ‘he,’ so he’s a man?” Emilia asked.
“He’s someone I know from the past. Mike’s dad,” I said, figuring that I might as well explain it all to them now.
“Wait, your ex-boyfriend Mike?” Alison asked. “Mike from college?”
“His dad?” Emilia asked. “That would make him fifty or sixty, right?”
“He’s actually forty-eight,” I said. I’d found out Robert’s age over dinner last night. He was exactly nineteen years older than me. “He’s a good guy. He got evicted from his old place and had nowhere to go. I wanted to help him, so I…”
“Offered your place? Brooke, you’re nice. It’s one of the things I love about you. But being too nice can put you in a dangerous situation,” Alison said in a gentle voice. “What if he’s a creep?”
“He’s not a creep,” I said. Sure, I didn’t know him super well, but it was something I knew in my bones. “He’s been nothing but a gentleman. I know how it sounds, but you two have to trust me. I’m capable of looking after myself.”
Alison and Emilia fell silent, then glanced at each other.
“We just worry about you, Brooke,” Emilia said, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “If you think this guy is okay, he’s probably okay. You do read people better than us.”
Alison nodded in agreement. “We trust your judgment. Just…” she trailed off.
“Just what?” I asked.
“You know you’re gorgeous,” she said.
Even though we complimented each other all the time, I still felt a flicker of embarrassment. I knew I was pretty — my parents hadn’t given me much, but I’d gotten my mother’s blonde hair and my father’s green eyes. But most of the time, I dressed down. At work, I kept my hair pulled back, wanting to be taken seriously as a lawyer.
“Thank you,” I said. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“See it from Mike’s dad’s perspective,” Emilia said.
“Robert,” I said. “His name is Robert.”
“Robert,” Emilia replied with a nod. “See it from Robert’s point of view. He’s living in close quarters with a beautiful young woman. What if he—”
I cut her off. “It’s not like that. I understand your concern, but trust me, he doesn’t see me like that. He’s never given any indication that he’s attracted to me.”
As soon as I said the words, I realized how true it was. He’d been nothing but friendly. And to my horror, I felt a little…disappointed?
What was wrong with me? I was being silly.
“I’ll be careful. Everything will be fine,” I assured them.
They gave me a small smile.
“If you say so,” Alison said.
I finished off the rest of my mimosa and tapped the side of the empty glass with my forefinger. “I think we all need another round, though,” I said, ready to change the subject.
They murmured in agreement, and so I flagged down the waitress for another round of drinks.
The topic of conversation shifted, and Emilia talked about an upcoming event she was attending. She’d borrowed a light pink dress from me a few days earlier, since the theme of the event was pastel colors.
As Emilia and Alison discussed accessories and makeup, I pushed our earlier conversation to the back of my mind. I understood why my friends were worried, but everything would be fine.
There’d be no drama and no conflict. Just smooth sailing.