Page 117 of Claimed By The Other Brother

The question hangs between us.

"Someone who shows up," I say finally.

"Someone who doesn't run when things get complicated. Someone who sees your value and doesn't take it for granted."

She's quiet for a long moment. She looks as if she wants to say something else, but then her eyes change. She looks down at her plate and then she takes a bite of her food.

"This is incredible."

I let her change the subject.

"Marco's chef is one of the best in the city."

We eat, and the conversation shifts to safer ground. Favorite restaurants. Travel. She tells me about a trip to Iceland she took with friends, and I tell her about Tokyo.

"You've been everywhere," she observes.

"Comes with the job. Business takes me all over."

"Do you ever just travel for fun?"

"Not often."

"That's sad."

I shrug. "I enjoy the work."

"But there's more to life than work."

"Says the woman who's been at the office until midnight multiple times this month."

She laughs. "Fair point."

The wine flows. The food is excellent. And slowly, the professional veneer we've been maintaining starts to crack.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," she says, her eyes bright from the wine.

"Like what?"

"Anything. A secret. A fear. Something real."

I consider this.

"I ran the New York Marathon once. Hated every second of it."

She laughs. "Why did you do it then?"

"Because I don't like being told I can't do something."

"Stubborn."

"Determined."

"Same thing."

"Your turn," I say. "Tell me something I don't know."

She twirls her wineglass.