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Connor laughed happily, pleased with my critique, and brought me a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. “My dad let me take a cooking class at the community college a few years ago. I was good and I loved every minute of it.”
He took a seat beside me, plopping down on a barstool, and I felt the heat of his thigh against mine through the thin fabric of his jogging pants. I swallowed, willing my heart to slow down, and looked at him as he ate. “So why didn’t you become a chef then? Why not go to culinary school if you’re so good at it and you enjoy it so much?”
Connor shrugged and a wistful look fell over his handsome face. “Doesn’t fit the Lennox name. My father would have never accepted me as Chef Lennox. A business degree suited his plan better.”
“His plan?” I asked quietly, feeling a melancholy veil fall over me. It seemed Connor had no choices in his life, nothing that made him feel whole just for doing it. I couldn’t imagine going through four years of school for someone else’s happiness.
“He wants me to take over,” Connor sighed. “He’s… uh, he’s sick and he wants to make sure his legacy is protected, I guess.”
I put my fork down, staring at him, unimpressed. “Life is too short to live it for someone else.”
Connor blinked pale blue eyes at me as if he were trying to figure me out. I fidgeted under his gaze and wiped my sweating palms covertly over my jeans. His mouth was upturned in a tiny smile. “Is that a proverb?”
I bumped his shoulder like we were old friends sharing a joke. “I’m serious. I know we don’t know each other but you’ll never be happy doing something you hate.”
Connor shrugged, dragging his fork distractedly through his omelet so that the metal scraped softly over the plate. “It’s not about me. That’s what this whole thing is about—his approval. He wants me to have someone, he wants me in a relationship for stability. So that I’ll have something to hold onto.”
“And what happens when this is all over? What happens when we “fake” break up?” I asked stabbing at a pile of mushrooms on my plate. I was curious how my family would react to Connor and even more interested to know what would happen after we parted ways. It would be more difficult for Connor because he was doing this for his father and nothing else seemed to really matter.
He seemed to think about that for a moment. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, leaving the island to put my empty plate in the sink. “After we win.”
“I’m not planning on winning,” Connor proclaimed, leaning back in his chair. “I told you.”
“Plans change,” I shrugged with my back turned to him.
I heard Connor snort and he stood up, moving beside me to wash his plate. His hand brushed my hip as he leaned to grab something and I jumped, sliding away. He didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he didn’t say anything.
“So, uh…” I began, feeling strangely nervous, despite knowing that none of this was real. “When do I move in?”
Connor took out his phone, flicking through emails and messages. “I’m having the movers drop by your place in an hour. I’ll have Nora take you over there. Does that sound good?”
“And when are we supposed to be meeting your dad?”
If I was going to have to meet Elias Lennox, I wanted to have some time to prepare. There was no telling what I might say if Elias had it in his head to still buy my brother’s shop. I couldn’t help but think that Connor’s father was not a great man. Rich, yes, but not great. Stepping on other people who you deemed lesser was no way to make a name for yourself.
I hoped, both for my sake and his, that Connor had nothing in common with Elias. To me, it seemed that Connor would always be struggling to measure up to his father’s plans and dreams for him. It was selfish of him to push his own goals on his son without allowing him to find himself first. Though I barely knew Connor Lennox, I could almost imagine him in some downtown bistro, cooking and creating beautiful dishes with a peace in his heart that only came from a life fulfilled.
I knew what I wanted, I craved the rolling hills and mountains of my little hometown nestled cozily in the West Virginia greenery. I wanted to live my life on my own terms and to be myself, always. I could only hope Connor would one day have the same luxury. It was strange. He had been to college and graduated, accomplished all these things that meant so much to someone else, and yet they weren’t really his accomplishments. He seemed to have everything he could ever want, and he must have never needed funds, though he was the most unfulfilled person I had ever met.
