Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Cool,” he said. “Well, if you’ve got time while you’re home, come for dinner at Etoile. Just let me know what night you want to come, and I’ll get you in.”
“I’d love to do that. Let me talk to her.”
As I put the potatoes in the oven, I wondered if I should tell Ari up front about the possibility of buying Abelard’s truck or if I should just take her to dinner at Etoile and surprise her. Would she be upset with me? Was she really against the idea or just nervous to take a chance on herself?
I put a pot of water on the stove to boil and started trimming the ends off the broccoli rabe.
“Okay, I’m clean.”
I turned around to see her entering the kitchen, her hair damp and curly, her face free of makeup. She wore gray shorts and a matching cropped sweatshirt, and thick fleece bunny socks on her feet. “Cute,” I said.
She looked down and rocked back on her heels. “Thank you. Now what can I do to help? I’m not good at sitting still in the kitchen and letting other people do the work, so you have to give me something.”
I grabbed the bottle of pinot noir and handed it to her. “You can open this and pour us some wine.”
As she opened a drawer and pulled out the opener, I went back to my dinner prep. “Want to hear my cool news?”
“Yes.”
“I spoke to a friend of mine, a chef who runs a restaurant called Etoile at—”
“You’re friends with Gianni Lupo?” She sounded impressed.
“Yeah. We lived in the same house years ago in L.A.”
“Wow. I didn’t know that.” She placed a glass of pinot noir on the counter next to the cutting board, on which I was slicing cloves of garlic. “Are those crushed pistachios?”
“Yes.” I set the knife down and took a sip of wine. “I gave him a call because I wondered if he had any insight into food trucks.”
“Dash!” She was clearly exasperated. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I was curious. And I wanted to learn more about it.”
“You could have Googled it.”
“I did that before I called him.” I gave her a quick kiss. “I’m very thorough.”
She leaned back against the counter next to me. “So what did he say?”
While oil heated in the iron skillet, I told her about my conversation with Gianni. “So if his father-in-law says the truck is for sale, maybe we can go see it.”
She watched me sear the marbled New York Strips but said nothing. Her expression was a mixture of trepidation and skepticism, her brow furrowed.
“You’re making me nervous with that face,” I told her. “Are you worried I don’t know how to cook a steak?”
Her pinched forehead relaxed. “Sorry. It’s not that. I trust you to cook dinner. And I appreciate your confidence in me. But it won’t do me any good to go see that truck—I can’t buy it.”
“All we’re doing is looking at it.” I added butter, cloves of garlic, and sprigs of rosemary to the skillet, watching it carefully. “What’s the harm in that?”
“What if I fall in love with it?”
“Then we figure out a way to make it work. We convince your parents to buy it. Or you apply for a loan. Or you accept my offer to invest in you.” Removing the steaks from the skillet, I placed them on the cutting board to let them rest and dropped the rabe into the boiling water. “You have options.”
“Maybe.” She was silent a minute. “But I also have doubts.”
“You can’t let doubt cloud your good energy, Ari,” I told her. “It will build and build, and before you know it, you have to walk around naked to cure yourself.”
She laughed. “Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off right now?”
I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her temple. Her hair smelled like the beach. “I’m trying to make my friend believe in herself. But if you want to get naked, I will not stand in your way.”
She laughed. “Thanks, but I’ll keep my clothes on for now.”
“Are we watching a movie tonight?” I asked, draining the vegetables.
“Yes. I have a great idea—Dirty Dancing.”
“I have a better one. Dirty talking.”
Behind me, she slipped her arms around my waist. “We can do both.”
By the time the movie finished, the food was gone, the wine bottle was empty, and Ari was sound asleep with her head in my lap.
She was so fucking cute. I brushed her hair back from her face and remembered a dozen moments from last night—her legs over my shoulders, her mouth wrapped around me, her hips swiveling over mine. My cock jumped at the memory, and I felt it begin to swell. I was dying to do it all again, but I didn’t have the heart to wake her.