Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
OUTSIDE THE STATEHOUSE entrance, Matthew descends the first two steps before extending his hand.
I take it without hesitation, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
A sharp tingle races up my arm. He falters for a fraction of a second before continuing, his grip tightening ever so slightly.
“No rush,” he says, guiding me down the steps to the hotel entrance.
My hand fits perfectly in his, a quiet comfort in the chaos of my life. I don’t want to let go, but I force myself to focus.
“Well, if anything, I blame you for making me practically chug that wine.” I giggle.
“It’ll be worth it, trust me.” He looks back, just enough for me to see half his smile.
Trust him.
He’s infuriating at times. He is the lawyer hired to get rid of me and my business, the very person I should be fighting against. And yet, despite that glaring fact, somehow deep down, I do trust him.
It’s illogical, completely irrational, but no less true.
“My car is right over there,” I tell him when we reach the bottom of the slate stone staircase, slipping my hand free. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“No, no.” He recaptures my hand and pulls me in the opposite direction. “I’m driving.”
“But what about my car?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll come back for it later.” He stops at a sleek black Mercedes sedan and opens the passenger door for me.
He shuts me in, slides behind the steering wheel, and starts the engine.
“Now let’s hope he’s still open.”
“Who is?” I ask, buckling my seatbelt.
“You’ll see.” He flashes a smile and shifts the car into gear, pulling away from the Edgewater Hotel and its glittering lights, leaving my car behind.
The drive is silent, filled only with the low hum of the engine and a barely audible late-night jazz station.
I steal glances at Matthew. The faint glow of the dashboard illuminates the sharp cut of his jawline and the focused intensity in his green eyes.
One hand rests on the steering wheel, the other in his lap.
With only the middle console between us, the small space feels intimate, every breath, every movement amplified.
A moment later, he pulls into a parking spot.
I look up, and the Wisconsin State Capitol fills my vision.
It dominates. The massive granite structure stretches toward the sky, bathed in a warm, golden light.
The soaring columns, the intricate carvings, the arched windows…
every detail is prominent. The central dome, with a statue perched atop it, glows against the dark backdrop of the night sky. I’ve seen nothing like it.
“Leave everything,” Matthew says, removing his tie and tossing it onto the back seat before killing the engine.
I nod, fixated on the spectacle before me.
Matthew is already out of the car. He opens my door, offering his hand.
I take it, and as I step out onto the pavement, I gasp. “This building is gorgeous,” I say, my voice filled with genuine awe. “I’ve always wanted to come see it up close, but never made the time.”
“I find it to be the most impressive at night,” Matthew replies, a hint of pride in his voice.
He’s so right, I think, tilting my head back to take in the full scale of the illuminated dome.
The lights accentuate every curve, every detail. It’s almost…
Magical.
“Ready?” Matthew gestures ahead.
As we walk, a delicious smell, savory and grilled, mingles with the crisp air.
A few steps further, and the source comes into view: a fire-truck red food truck, parked near the curb.
Emblazoned on its side, in bold yellow letters, is “Mad City Burgers”, with oversized images of juicy burgers on either side of the serving window.
Leaning casually against the side of the truck is a Hispanic man with his arms crossed over a faded black apron and plain green sweater. A salt-and-pepper mustache covers his weathered face, and his slightly disheveled dark hair is streaked with gray.
His kind eyes light up when he sees us approaching. “Hey, hey, Matty!” He rushes over and engulfs Matthew in a big hug, patting his back. “Where have you been? It’s been so long!”
“I know, I know. Busy times,” Matthew replies.
“Yeah, you’re a big-shot lawyer now,” the man announces jovially, gripping Matthew’s shoulder. “And who is this beautiful lady?”
A smile, honest and unforced, spreads across my face when he turns his attention to me.
“Sal, this is Amy,” Matthew says, stepping aside. “Amy, this is Sal. The owner of the best burger joint in town.”
“Oh, of course you’re gonna say that.” Sal waves a hand in Matthew’s direction, chuckling. “This one used to practically live on my burgers. Couldn’t get enough of ’em since he was this big,” he tells me, holding out his hand at waist-level before extending it towards me. “Amy, it’s a pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you, Sal.” My smile widens as he clasps my hand with both of his.
He shifts back to Matthew. “And how you settling into your new place? It hasn’t been that long since you moved there, has it?”
“Hardly new anymore, it’s been a little over a year now,” Matthew replies.
Sal shakes his head. “Sorry, I should know that. I’m getting old, Matty.”
“No, you’re not.” Matthew claps him on the back. “You look great.”
“You only flatter me because you’re after my burgers,” Sal says, making us all laugh. “And how about Roger, he bother you lately?”
The question instantly darkens Matthew’s expression. “He probably doesn’t even know I moved, but that’s a story for another day, my friend.” He inhales deeply, squaring his shoulders. “Tonight I’m here to introduce Amy to your delicious burgers. If you’re still open, of course.”
“For you, always!!” Sal asserts, making us both smile. “Wanna help me make them like old times?”
Matthew turns to me, eyes asking permission.
I shrug, smiling.
Sal also turns to me. “Have you seen my Matty in the kitchen yet?”
I shake my head, laughing at the thought. “No, not really.”
“Well, tonight’s your lucky night,” he announces cheerfully. His eyes catch on my left hand. He grabs it, lifting it to whistle at my engagement ring. “And when were you going to share this good news with me?”
“What? Oh no, this is not—”
“No, I’m not—”
We speak over each other, making Sal pause and give us a once-over. “Look at you two, all shy and shit. Last time I saw this guy”—he gives Matthew a friendly slap on the arm—“he told me he wants nothing to do with relationships—”
“Sal, please,” Matthew interrupts.
“Whaaat? Don’t worry, Amy’s going nowhere. I know true love when I see it. I’ve been happily married for over twenty-one years and—”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Matthew says with a sigh of exasperation, his hand coming to rest on Sal’s shoulder, guiding him gently towards the truck’s steps. “Let’s go.”
My cheeks burn as I follow them.
“See, I told you he’s only after my burgers,” Sal declares, untying his apron. He pauses before handing it to Matthew. “Give your blazer to your fiancée. It’ll keep her warm.”
“Sal.” Matthew gives him a warning look.
“Come on, Matty, I ain’t got all night. Angie will be expecting me home soon,” Sal says.
Matthew obliges, taking off his blazer and holding it open for me. “Sorry about him,” he whispers. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” His fingers lightly brush my shoulders as I slide my arms into the warm fabric, the scent of his cologne enveloping me.
“Of course,” I nod, smiling.
He turns back to Sal and swipes the apron from his hand. “You need to stop. You’re making Amy uncomfortable.”
Sal holds up his hands in surrender, a wide grin on his face. “Okay, okay. I get it. Your girl is shy.” He winks at me before turning the knob on the flat grill.
Matthew rolls his eyes as he slips on the apron and, with a quick turn of his wrists, rolls up his shirt sleeves. “Could you please?” he asks, presenting me his back.
I step closer. The warmth of his body radiates towards me. My hands go around his waist, the soft fabric of his shirt barely concealing the hard muscles of his back. He stills, his breath catching. For a moment, I just stand there.
“Yes, chef.” My voice catches slightly as I finally tie his apron in a neat bow.
He turns back, a brilliant smile lighting up his face, and I feel myself melting on the spot.
Wrapped in the warmth of his blazer, his heady cologne filling my senses, I watch Sal place evenly sized balls of meat on the workstation. Matthew expertly flattens them into patties. The thwack of the meat hitting the counter punctuates the quiet.
There’s a whole other side to Matthew Warren…
And it’s on full display right here, in a faded apron.
“This recipe has been in Sal’s family for generations,” Matthew says.
“Sí, it’s true. The secret is in our spice mix,” Sal is quick to confirm. “My abuelita Juana got it from her abuela Rosa, and Rosa from her abuela before her, may God rest their souls.”
“Wow, sounds like these are going to be very special burgers,” I reply.
“Just wait till you try it,” Matthew promises.
“I’ll be seeing you here more often, I’m certain of that.” Sal’s infectious laughter fills the small space.
Matthew’s shoulders shake with a laugh, and a smile pulls at my own lips.
Matthew moves the patties to the grill. They land with a sizzle, and it’s not long before the delicious scent fills the air and makes my stomach rumble.
“Be a dear and pass the fries?” Sal points to the fridge on my left.
I pull the clear bag of freshly cut fries out and hand it to him.
“Play nice,” Matthew says from the grill. “Amy is not dressed for the kitchen.”
Sal nods as he empties a portion of the bag into a metal frying basket. “Your Amy is dressed for a fancy night out,” he agrees, dipping the fries into the hot oil. “But trust me.” He winks. “My burger and fries beat anything you can order at those snazzy restaurants.”
“I don’t doubt it one bit.” I giggle. Matthew shakes his head, chuckling as he flips the patties.
“I like you.” Sal points at me, and my giggles soften into a shy smile.