Chapter 13
Elena
ISPEND A LEISURELY AFTERNOON UNPACKING. AFTER PLACING MY LAPTOP ON THE desk in my office, I move over to the bookcase along the wall and start unpacking the box of books I brought along with me.
I don’t have many so the books I set up in the bookcase only fill up two of the eight shelves.
Digging through another box I finally find what I’ve been looking for, a plaid reading blanket in shades of green that was gifted to me.
It’s my favourite and I thought it would be amazing to have it on hand.
I’m glad I decided to bring it along as I look at it now draped over the couch against the wall. Perfect.
Digging further into the box, I find my favourite crystal piece. It’s a chunky bit of rose quartz which I use as a makeshift paperweight. I place the crystal on the far-right corner of my desk and pack all my stationery into the drawers on the left side of the desk.
Looking around, I realise that I may need a few extra things to make the office look more seasoned and “used”. A plant may be a nice addition. I’ll go shopping tomorrow, maybe I’ll even visit that bookstore again and a quick visit to that coffee shop I went to with Tony.
Looking around, a satisfied smile spreads across my face. I feel happy and content.
A few moments later I leave the office and go to my room to unpack.
An hour later and I’m done. I drove over so I couldn’t bring all my clothes and shoes.
I packed the most practical items. But I have more than enough to keep me comfortable for a while.
I’ll probably use my first weekend off to go back and get the rest of my stuff.
While the bulky stuff like furniture, TV and my chest of drawers went into Evie’s storage locker, I left the majority of my clothes at her place in the spare room.
Apart from having to drive over here, I had no idea if the room I was given would even accommodate all the stuff I own.
Looking around the massive closet, I realise there is more than enough space and I’ll even have room to spare.
After all the unpacking, I feel a bit grimy and decide to head into the shower. I’ve already packed all my toiletries in the bathroom so there’s nothing more for me to do.
The shower is absolutely luxurious. The rainfall shower head is heavenly and washes away all the suds in one easy swoosh.
After thirty minutes in the shower, twenty minutes longer than I needed…
I step out onto the plush super soft carpet outside the shower door.
I quickly grab a towel and wrap it around myself.
Taking a deep breath and then exhaling, I let out a sigh…
I could get used to living like this. After drying off my hair I change into something comfortable.
I pull on a pair of black tights and a sports bra. It’s comfy and throw on an oversized t-shirt with a wide neck, so it hangs off one shoulder.
I’m comfortable and relaxed and famished. I didn’t lie earlier when I told Lorenzo that I had eaten, but that was hours ago, and now I’m in need of nourishment.
I head downstairs to the kitchen to grab something to eat, nothing fancy, a sandwich would do just fine.
After pulling open a few cupboards, I found some bread, peanut butter and a banana.
Perfect. I make myself a peanut butter sandwich and add slices of banana to it, then I pour myself a glass of milk and sit at the counter to enjoy my sandwich.
The first bite sends a flood of flavour on my tongue, my eyes close and I let out a moan of satisfaction followed by an “Oh my God that’s good. ”
“Perhaps I should try that some time.”
My eyes fly open and I choke on my sandwich.
Coughing and hacking like my lungs are staging a protest. I grab my milk and take a drink to ease the choking.
Yeah, not happening. It only makes it worse; a tickling cough comes up as I try to swallow.
The result? Milk gushing out of my nose as I cough yet again.
My vision is blurry from the tears that have now gathered in them, a result of my unattractive coughing fit.
“Fuck!”
I heard him mutter before a paper towel was placed in my hand.
“Thank y-” Cough-cough-cough. Lord have mercy. I can’t even speak. What fresh hell is this? The patting on my back seems to help. A large strong hand alternates between patting my back and rubbing small circles from my shoulder blades to the middle of my back.
“Jesus, Elena. Are you okay?”
Nodding my head and wiping my eyes, I mutter.
“Yes, thank you.” The coughing has subsided and I can breathe again.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“That’s okay, it’s not your fault. I didn’t expect you back. Not sure why, I mean you do live here.”
I get off the stool to grab more paper towels to wipe off the milk on the counter but Lorenzo beat me to it. He’s already mopping up the mess with fast efficient movements. Watching his hands clear up the mess I all but whisper… “I can do that.”
“That’s okay, it’s the least I can do after I’ve ruined your…” He looks at the sandwich, or what’s left of it. “Dinner?” I only managed to take one bite out of the corner; the rest lay in a soggy mess in the plate after absorbing the milk I spilled.
“Uh yes. I was feeling a bit peckish after unpacking my stuff so I came down to make a sandwich. I hope you don’t mind?”
Now I’m nervous. The way he’s staring at the remnants of my sandwich, a look of total disapproval shadows his flawless face. Oh dear! Did I overstep? He did say I should make myself at home and help myself to the kitchen… Didn’t he?
“I don’t mind at all Elena. I did say to make yourself at home,”
Okay so we’re reading minds now.
“- but is that what you are having for dinner?”
Again, the look of disapproval, only this time he’s looking at me.
“Well, yes. It’s quick and easy and despite what you may think, it’s delicious.”
“Perhaps as a snack, but not a full meal. Especially after such a tedious day. It’s hardly enough to sustain you.”
“I beg to differ Mr. Marino. Peanut butter is known to be a great source of protein; bananas have an abundance of potassium which helps regulate blood pressure. It also helps increase energy. Milk is a known source of protein, calcium, vitamin B12 and Vitamin D while also providing a good source of energy. So basically, it’s the perfect meal. ”
There, I shut him up. I know he can’t argue with me on the facts that I just spewed. It’s common knowledge. I give him my brightest beat that smile.
“On the contrary Miss. Reeves.” He emphasises the Miss. Reeves part.
“You described an exceptional breakfast or school lunch. How much energy does one require to go to sleep? It is getting late and you wouldn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night feeling… what is the word you used?”
He looks down at me, eyes narrowed while his thumb rubs across his chin as if he’s thinking about the word, I used to describe hunger.
“Aah yes, peckish?”
Dammit. The bastard had me there and he knows it.
“Give me a minute.”
That’s all he says before sauntering his fine ass out of the kitchen.
I’m busy putting the bread and peanut butter away when he returns.
He walks straight to the fridge and pulls out a clear casserole with a red plastic lid.
Setting it on the counter, he turns towards the fridge again and grabs an onion, lettuce, cucumber and a green pepper.
I’m watching in awe as the man moves like a symphony.
Smooth graceful movements. Is he… cooking?
“Is there something I can do?” He pulls out a bottle of what looks like salad dressing and turns to me.
“I got it.” Is all he says.
“Seriously, I can help.”
“I have no doubt, Elena. For now, just sit back and let me feed you.”
Holy fuck! Why did that sound so erotic?
“Besides, technically, you haven’t started working for me as yet. So, I’ll repeat. Let me feed you.”
Heat rises to my face, my cheeks burning at his words.
I must look like an over cooked crustacean.
Why is the act of a man cooking for a woman so enticingly erotic.
It sends little sparks of electricity through my veins, lighting up my core, causing my thighs to clench involuntarily. My body is a traitorous tart.
“It’s not like I’m actually cooking for you. My mother brought this casserole over this morning. She thought you might be hungry when you arrived. I’m sorry, I forgot to mention it to you.”
Well fuck. There goes the dream of him cooking for me. Honestly what was I thinking.
“That’s very thoughtful of her. I’ll be sure to thank her when I see her.”
“Oh, you’ll be seeing a lot of her.” He chuckles softly.
“Let me warn you Elena, my mother can be overbearing at times, actually most of the time but she means well and she seems to have taken a liking to you. That means she’ll be up in your face demanding “girl time”, spa dates and God knows what else you ladies do in your free time. Consider yourself warned.”
“Noted.” Is all I manage in response.
Resting my arms on the counter, I watch Lorenzo busy himself with the few ingredients he pulled out from the fridge.
He has already put the casserole in the oven to warm, minus one red plastic lid, clever man.
His sleeves are rolled up to his forearms and I can see the swirls of ink that mark his tanned skin.
Taught muscles shift and flex at each stroke of the knife as he meticulously chops the peppers.
God the man is a walking wet dream. After much observation, it’s clear he’s making a salad.
My slow, sex crazed brain was late to the party with the realisation.
He grabs a bowl off the top shelf in one of the upper cupboards and sweeps the ingredients into it.
Adding a bit of dressing to the medley of garden vegies he tosses the salad and sets the bowl aside, turning and bending over to check the status of the casserole in the oven, I am graced with the view of what can only be described as a perfect full moon.
If the moon was carved out of muscle as hard as rock and shaped like Lorenzo’s ass.
“Ah, it’s ready.”
He places the casserole on the counter and spins again to get us some plates and forks. Damn I’m really getting a show tonight.
The smell of Italian lasagne with homemade pasta sauce permeates the air and creates a divine assault on my senses.
My tummy growls in anticipation. As a result, I’m rewarded with a knowing look from Lorenzo.
He places a perfect lasagne square in my plate along with a generous amount of his salad and then proceeds to repeat the process for himself.
After taking a bite, he hops off his seat and gets two wine glasses.
Placing them on the counter he bends in front of the mini wine fridge wedged into the island and pulls out a bottle of red.
After pouring us both a glass of wine, he settles in his seat and we eat in comfortable silence.