“No, you don’t.”
“I like being treated nicely.”
“More accurate.”
Alec expertly navigated the city streets while Brooklyn tried to get her bearings. Being around him always made her a a little nervous, even though they’d dated for months. Not only was he ridiculously easy on the eyes, Alec was the guy who got everything right on the first try, whereas Brooklyn was the master of false starts and missteps. Alec had everything under control. She sometimes conjured chaos. She knew these things about herself, though, and tried to use these traits to their best effect. Someone who could whip things into a frenzy was also a good person to have around when you needed to get things done. Brooklyn could do that handily.
Alec parked on the street about a block away from the restaurant. He wasn’t merely the kind of guy who liked nice cars, he was the kind of guy who drove in Manhattan—that was a very particular kind of guy. A man who did not want to leave anything to chance.
They started the short distance to the noodle shop. “Nice night,” Alec said.
“It is.” Brooklyn choked back a sigh, feeling like she didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. It had been easier standing in the diaper aisle, completely caught off guard.
Alec opened the restaurant door for her, and she attempted to step inside, but was met by a wall of people standing in the vestibule, waiting to be seated. “You weren’t kidding when you said this place was hopping.”
The hostess looked past Brooklyn and made eye contact with Alec, rushing over. Of course—Super Handsome Guy always got attention of the good kind. Somehow that never worked for women. “Mr. Trakas. We’ve been waiting for you. Right this way.”
Brooklyn could hardly keep up as she and Alec were whisked off to the back of the restaurant where two seats at the end of the bar were marked RESERVED. It wasn’t quite a corner table, but there were a good dozen women and a few men standing back by the front door who probably wanted to stab Brooklyn with a chopstick.
“How did you do that? They don’t take reservations.” Brooklyn got settled on one of the barstools.
He shrugged it off. “Made a phone call.”
She would’ve bitched about his seemingly effortless perfection if it didn’t also show some effort on his part. It was downright sweet. “Thank you for doing that. It was nice.”
“I wanted us to have a good time tonight. There’s too much history between us to not enjoy ourselves.”
He grinned at her, and it sparked something in his eyes—a familiar warmth and closeness. She just sat there, trying to figure out what exactly they were doing. Was he thinking romance? She wasn’t opposed to it; it was just that she did better when she tamped down her expectations. “Can we order some beers?” she asked, needing to take the edge off. She’d stop drinking as soon as she started her pursuit of pregnancy in earnest, but until then? Softening of reality was a good thing.
Alec flagged down a server, ordered their drinks and two bowls of the Tokyo-style ramen with seared salmon. “I hope it’s okay that I ordered for you,” he said when their waiter left.
“I thought about protesting your patriarchal bullshit, but since you picked the exact thing I wanted, I decided not to rip you a new one.”
“I’m so relieved.”
“You should be.”Shut your ramen hole, Brooklyn.
“So, tell me the latest with Posh Post.”
Brooklyn gave him the abbreviated report—lots to do, not enough employees, and a few new initiatives, including Posh Male.
“You really need to hire a CEO, so you can step back a bit and spend more time looking ahead to the future,” Alec said, shaking his head in dismay.
Brooklyn tried to ignore the annoyance running through her. Alec had foisted a lot of business opinions on her when they were dating. “I don’t think we’re there yet. We’re still a young company. And we’re managing.”
The waiter brought their drinks and the steaming bowls of ramen, a heavenly brew of ginger, chicken broth, and soy. “This smells amazing.” Alec dug right in with his chopsticks. She watched as his tongue swiped the tail ends of the strands from his lip and into his mouth. This was a first. She had never before wanted to be a noodle.
Brooklyn took a much smaller bite. If anyone was likely to spill a volcanic bowl of ramen on her lap, it was her. “Delicious.”
“Please tell me you aren’t still working fourteen-hour days.”
“It’s closer to twelve now. So I guess that’s good?”
He nodded, but he didn’t truly understand the demands of her job. That had always been a bone of contention between them. “You need to do something about that, Brooklyn. It’s not sustainable. You’ll burn out and then what?”
“You know me. I have tons of energy. I don’t need much sleep.”
“Well, sure, but the question is what are you pouring that energy into? You can’t just work. You need more in your life.”
