Chapter 26 Jessica
Jessica
“Lunch is here,” Aunt Vivian hollers as she walks into the shop, making my stomach rumble.
“Not a moment too soon by the sounds of your stomach?” Donovan teases me, and Uncle Bob huffs a laugh.
While I’ve been here all morning, Donovan stopped by so that we could both talk to my aunt and uncle a little more about our upcoming trip to Milan and the increase in media presence.
“Are these the famous Rueben sandwiches?” Donovan asks my aunt as we move to the small kitchen. The shop is quiet today. The weeks after Thanksgiving are usually quieter, so that’s when we do most of the cleaning and inventory while we have a chance.
“The one and only. I hope that sandwich shop never closes.” Uncle Bob takes a big bite, and I laugh.
“Looks like I’m not the only hungry one,” I murmur, before doing the same.
“So Milan?” my aunt cuts right to it.
“We’ll be leaving on Monday and will be there for the week. My jet will take us straight to Milan. I have our itinerary here for you, just in case you want to know where Jessica is at any time. I put down my cell and office numbers, and you can call either whenever you’d like.”
I watch in silence as Donovan hands over a file containing emergency phone numbers, our hotel details, and also our day-to-day schedule.
“Oh, great.” My aunt is surprised, but pleasantly so, and the way Uncle Bobby is grinning, I’d say he approves as well.
“Are the media still a problem here?” Donovan asks my uncle.
“They seem to stick to the other side of the road, so they aren’t intrusive. But they’re here.”
“It’s okay. We’re okay,” Aunt Vivian confirms.
I frown, worried. “You tell us if you're not. I don’t want you to have any issues here or at home.”
“I can get you some security?” Donovan offers, and my heart melts more for this man.
“Kiddo, so far, my sales this past week have been bigger than expected, and I think that’s because of the increase in attention. So I’m not complaining. I just worry about you.” He looks at me pointedly.
“I promise I’m taking good care of her,” Donovan pipes up.
“I can tell.” Uncle Bobby nods, just as the jingle of the shop door sounds.
“I’ll go.” I stand up straightaway, wanting Donovan and my family to keep chatting. It’s nice to see them bonding over the special Saturday lunch we do.
As I step around the corner, only two steps into the store, I balk.
“Hey, Jay Jay.”
“Hi, Jimmy.” I sigh, wondering how this is going to go today. I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. I thought perhaps he was sick of visiting.
“Thought I would drop by. Mr. Zimmi has that lunch special today?”
“Oh, sorry, Jimmy…” I start to say, then feel a warm hand on my back and look up, seeing Donovan by my side.
“Donovan…”
“You alright out here?” Donovan looks over Jimmy before giving me a warm smile.
“Sure, this is my friend, Jimmy. Jimmy, this is Donovan.” I make the introductions, and Donovan takes a step forward, offering his hand.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Donovan offers, and Jimmy looks a mixture of heartbroken, mad, and surprised. But he takes Donovan’s hand anyway.
“Nice to meet you. A friend of Jay Jay’s is always a friend of mine,” Jimmy says, almost cryptically.
“Jessica tells me you work as a lawyer in the city? Which law firm?” Donovan’s making conversation, but Jimmy’s smile seems forced.
“Oh, yeah. Just a small firm on the outskirts of Gotham.” Jimmy’s answer is vague. Probably because he knows who Donovan is and that Donovan would know the law firm if it was one worth knowing.
“Gotham is a vibrant place.” Donovan nods, not following with another question.
“Sorry, Jimmy, we’re just in the middle of lunch. Talking through a work trip with my aunt and uncle,” I tell him.
“Oh sure, sure, of course. I’ll see you around, Jay Jay.” Jimmy turns and walks out, not a goodbye to Donovan, not a nice to meet you.
“So that’s the famous Jimmy who calls you constantly?” Donovan looks at me with slight concern.
“Never liked that kid,” Uncle Bobby chimes in from behind us, and we both turn and walk back to the kitchen.
I release a heavy breath. “Yeah, that’s Jimmy.”
“He looks at you a certain way…” Donovan murmurs, concern etched in his brow. “Where did you say he works again? What’s the name of his firm?”
I pause. I’ve never asked Jimmy about his work. In fact, I’ve never asked him where he lives or what he does outside of work. We mainly talk about the commute, our workdays, the weather. The more I think about it, the more I come to realize I don't know much about him at all.
“You don’t have to worry; he isn’t anyone to worry about.” I swallow, hoping to put Jimmy behind us.
“Coming to the penthouse tonight?” Donovan moves and stands in front of me, facing me.
“I think you should come to my apartment. I need to water my plants and grab some fresh clothes anyway.”
“Are you inviting me to your place for a sleepover? Sure your walls are thick enough for us?” His grin is wicked.
“My neighbor is a friendly man who wears hearing aids so he won't hear a thing.” I grin as his hands scoop around my middle, and he leans down to kiss me.
As he does, I hear Aunt Vivian swoon, just as Uncle Bobby coughs, and we smile against each other before we pull away.
I roll my lips to prevent the face-splitting grin I have as Donovan runs his hands through his hair and gives me a wink.
Yep, I’m falling more and more for this man. I grab his hand, and we walk back to the kitchen, where we finish lunch and talk about Milan. I couldn’t be more excited for my first overseas trip with Donovan.
“This is cute.” Donovan grins as he steps into my apartment. It feels like forever since I spent any time here. My weeks are now with him in the city, and my Saturdays too.
“Well, the views are a little different.” I grin as Donovan looks out the windows, seeing a clear view of the apartment building next door.
“Can you see right into their kitchen?” He pulls back, looking at me like I’m crazy, and I laugh.
“Yeah, well, it’s secure, new, and that’s how I learn to make the best pasta in the world, by secretly watching my neighbor for weeks,” I admit, and Donovan’s laugh is full and hearty.
“You spy on your neighbors?”
“Not spy, exactly… more like… observe…” I grab a bag and start toward the bedroom.
“Hmmmmm, well, they’re good cooks. You know I love your pasta.” He follows me down the small hall, looking over the space. It isn’t much; you could stand in one spot and see all of it.
“I’m not even sure what to pack for this week. Most of my things are already at your place.” I frown, looking at my wardrobe here that’s getting smaller and smaller by the week.
“Maybe you should move in with me.”
The air leaves my lungs as my gaze whips to him.
“Excuse me?” I heard what he said; I just need time to digest it. Like he knows, he grins.
“Bring it all. Move in with me. Permanently." He steps toward me slowly, watching for my reaction. My mind races. I want to. I’ve completely fallen for this man. Not that I’ve told him yet. I haven’t found the right time. Ever since Thanksgiving, things have been crazy, and I’ve held back.
“Permanently?”
“Yes… permanently. You can keep the apartment if you like. But sublet it or something?”
“That’s a big step…” I swallow, wanting to say yes.
“Think about it. You know I love having you around.” He grins, not pressuring me, and I smile. It feels perfect.
“We can get Gordon to pack up everything while we’re in Milan and move it for us. Ensures the media aren’t photographing your life at every instant.” I nod at that. It makes sense. But then I frown.
“What?” His hands rest on my waist as he steps up to me. The two of us are never apart for very long or not touching regularly.
“Well… it’s just…” My eyebrows pinch as I think about it.
“What?”
“Do you think we can stay here tonight? The last few Saturdays the neighbors have made this delicious eggplant parmigiana… and I thought I wrote it all down last week, but I missed something…”
Donovan barks out a laugh before he pulls me close, looking deep into my eyes.
“You’re amazing, you know that, right?” His eyes twinkle, happiness overtaking his entire face.
“So that’s a yes?” I grin right back, not able to contain my excitement at moving in with him.
“I don’t think I could ever say no to you.” He kisses me then, before wrapping his arms around me tight and lifting my feet from the floor, walking us over to my bed, and ensuring that I miss the dinner prep today as well.
Donovan grabs my bag as we take the elevator up.
“Is it weird that my entire wardrobe is at your place at this point?”
After I packed a few things last night, Donovan and I positioned ourselves next to the window, watching the old Italian woman next door make her eggplant parmigiana.
I was right, I was missing a few things from her recipe, and now I can’t wait to make it this week.
I tried not to think too hard about the fact that my billionaire boyfriend sat next to me, spying on the neighbor so intensely to ensure I wrote everything down.
It was the funniest, most heartwarming thing anyone has ever done.
He didn’t judge me. He didn’t think it was ridiculous.
Didn’t look down at me. It was actually nice to have him in my space.
“Well, you've been bringing things over for weeks, so most of what you use is already here.” He doesn’t meet my gaze, because he failed to add the detail about him buying me an entirely new wardrobe, and I didn’t miss that this week there were also the additional men’s business shirts just for me to wear around the house.
He strides inside, placing my bag down, and I watch him as he grabs the TV remote and turns on the twenty-four-hour news channel. News from Asia fills the room.
“Anything new?” I ask as his eyes focus on the TV, and I walk to the kitchen to grab us a drink.
But then something that looks entirely out of place, not in line with his aesthetics, his personality, anything, catches my eye.
I swallow roughly as I take a tentative step closer.
Hanging there in the doorway to his kitchen is a small plastic sprig of mistletoe.
Unlike at my childhood home, this one is new, no dust, a vibrant green, and bound by a piece of red ribbon so shiny it catches the light and makes the whole thing glow.
My heart shouldn’t thud like it is. My eyes shouldn’t start to water. But I know he has this here because of me. Because he saw the one at Uncle Bobby’s on Thanksgiving. Because he knows the history behind it and how it makes me feel to see it, to be kissed under it.
He never mentioned anything. There are no other holiday decorations around. No tree, no lights, and even though he has a few soft cushions and blankets on the sofa, the rest of this apartment is free of trinkets. Although luxurious, it has nothing in it that is particularly homely or warm.
This mistletoe is the only piece.
“Hey, you want a—” His voice cuts off as he walks toward me, my feet still frozen to the ground, my eyes unmoving from the plastic mistletoe.
I feel him step up beside me.
“Is this okay?” He’s tentative, and I look at him with teary eyes.
“You did this for me?” I know he did. He swallows and nods.
“I know you love the one at your aunt and uncle’s. I know that it signifies a lot of love in that house and reminds you that love exists. I want you to know that it exists in this house too.”
“I have no idea how this happened. How we met, how we fell for each other almost instantly. I’m scared to think about how close I was to not having it.
Not experiencing it. Not being with you.
If I hadn't met you that day, I would’ve finished my contract a week or so later and never even met you at all. ”
His eyes search mine, and he takes a small step forward, our toes touching as he looks down at me.
“I’m glad Shelley hired you.”
“I’m sure glad Shelley made me come and meet you.” I smile, thinking back to that day.
“I think she needs a bonus.” He gives me a wink, his hands feeling warm and safe around my waist.
“Thank you. For the mistletoe.” Who would’ve thought a small, artificial leaf would mean so much.
“You know, we can probably get a tree too. I’ve never had one, but I’m feeling festive this year.” His eyes sparkle, and my smile widens.
“Maybe we can decorate it together?”
He nods in agreement and his hand comes to my cheek, pushing my hair back as he looks right at me.
“I’d love that.”
My next words are taken from me as his lips hit mine, and he pulls me close, kissing me under the mistletoe, just like I always dreamed of.