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Me: Yes, I can do lunch on Sunday, but I think you accidentally sent me another text, the one where you asked about working out together?
Knox: No, that was for you. Thought we could go for a run together.
Me: Ummmmm…..no. I’m not running with you.
Knox: Bike ride?
Me: Also no.
Knox: Okay, how bout if you think of a way for us to get sweaty together?
I put the phone to my chest and laugh. For a brooder, Knox can be quite funny.
Me: We can LIGHTLY JOG to a new bakery I want to try.
Knox: Deal.
Me: Where are you?
Knox: Toronto. We got our asses kicked in the game, don’t watch the highlights on SportsCenter.
Me: Lol, do you think you should win every single game?
Knox: Yes.
Me: Glad you’ve got a healthy mindset on winning…
Knox: How was the shelter today?
Me: Exhausting. I didn’t even sit down when I ate dinner. It’s almost 10 pm here, what time is it there?
Knox: An hour later. I’ll let you get to bed.
Me: Okay. See you Sunday.
Knox: Sweet dreams, sweet girl.
My heart does a little somersault as I read his last message, and then read it again. I smile as I set the phone down and open my mail, sorting it into a trash pile and a keep pile.
The last piece of mail I open is a letter from a chef I met in culinary school. He’s starting a new restaurant in New York City that will be staffed by homeless people under the supervision of a few chefs and sous chefs. It’ll be attached to a shelter, and it’s been fully funded by private donations.
Just the sound of it makes me giddy with happiness, and I assume he wants to get some advice from me, until a line in his letter stops me cold.
I want to hire you to run the kitchen.
Like Knox’s text, I have to read it again for it to really set in. It’s my dream job. As much as I love working at Magnolia, I’ve realized in the past few months that my heart lies in teaching. In giving women a leg up and helping them build better lives for themselves and their children.
But New York City? I can’t move there. I’m happy here.
I set the letter on top of the stack of junk mail bound for the trash can, but a second later, something makes me switch it over to the keep pile.Chapter FifteenKnoxWhen Reese spots me from across the room, her expression conveys so much that it takes my breath away. She came to the fundraiser a few hours early to help set up displays for the Women’s Mission. But seeing her for the first time, even in this crowded ballroom, feels the same as it would if we were alone at her place and I was picking her up.
She’s stunning in a sparkling red dress that hugs her body in all the right places. The dress is sleeveless, with a high neckline and an open back, and every instinct I have is telling me to go put my hand on her lower back and pull her close for a kiss.
Her eyes are dancing with happiness and her expression is joyful, but there’s also a vulnerable question there: how do I look? It radiates off of her, that of all the people in this room who can see her right now, I’m the only one whose opinion she cares about.
I want to go to her, but she’s in the middle of working on a display, so instead I mouth, “You’re beautiful” and press my fingertips to my lips, blowing her a kiss.
If any of my teammates saw that, I’ll get teased until I qualify for a senior discount, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s worth it to see Reese glow the way she is right now.
“Hey, man, looking all GQ and shit,” Silas says, nudging me. “Did you finally break down and buy your own tux?”
“Yeah, it was time.” I smooth a hand down the tux that set me back a mint, but it fits much better than the rental ones do.
“So does Reese work at the shelter?” he asks me.
“She volunteers there.” I give him a pointed look. “Did you bring your checkbook like I told you to?”
“Yep.” He pats the breast pocket of his suit. “I’ll bid on some silent auction stuff.”
“You need to make a direct donation, too.”
Silas gives me an amused look. “I do?”
“Yeah, it’s a good cause and they need the money. You’ve got plenty of it so don’t be a cheap bastard.”
“There’s the Knox we all know and love. You’re usually a surly prick. Reese is softening you, though.”
I scowl. “Just because I’m softer with her doesn’t mean I’m softer with anyone else.”
Silas forgets our conversation as a pretty woman walks by. I shake my head as he follows her all the way across the room with his gaze.
