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He nods at the piles of paperwork on my desk. “I’ve never seen so much work being done in this office before.”
I chuckle and set my pen down. “Get used to it.”
Owen glances at his watch. “Are you going to be finished in time for dinner tonight?”
I peek at the clock on my computer screen. Fuck. It’s already after six, and Owen’s wife—or whatever she is—planned for seven.
“Yeah, as long as you don’t mind me showing up empty-handed and in my work clothes,” I say with a shrug.
He waves a hand in the air. “Ella has already prepared way too much food. She’s been excited about this all week, and you’ll feel like a stuffed pig by the time you leave.”
A pang of jealousy rolls through me. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself one hell of a woman, Porter. I’ll see you at seven.”
He nods and backs out of the doorway, so I can get back to work. Well, get back to organizing all these damned papers, so I can take them home with me to work late tonight. If I’m going to find time tomorrow to call around for the event, then I’ll be up half the night making sure my work here is done first.
* * *
With only oneminute to spare, I pull up to Owen’s house. It’s a simple home with blue paint, white shutters, and a manicured front yard. There’s nothing extraordinary about it, but it’s a home filled with two people who love each other, and that’s a lot more than I’ve ever had.
Before my thoughts can get lost in my past, I exit my car and brush my hands over my light-blue dress shirt. I left my suit coat and tie in the back seat, trying to keep things casual since I didn’t have time to go home and change.
When I get to the red front door, my knuckles don’t get the chance to touch the steel before the hinges creak.
“Sorry. Ella made me come greet you like a stalker,” Owen deadpans.
“Owen Joseph Porter, you did not just say that,” I hear a woman shrill from somewhere behind him.
Owen leans forward and whispers, “I have no idea why she’s freaking out so bad. We have dinner with people all the time. Don’t hold this evening against me.”
My hand clasps over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, man.”
He moves out of the way and gestures with his hand for me to come in. I step into the foyer and see a living room on my left. Further up is a hallway that I assume leads to the kitchen and dining area. Owen goes that way, and I follow.
The walls are painted a light tan with white crown molding. Pictures adorn the painted surface, but I don’t linger.
Behind the kitchen counter, I see who I assume to be Ella grabbing dishes from the stove and getting ready to carry them to the table.
She looks up at me and gives me a wide smile. “Hi and sorry. I’m not usually such a mess. I tried to get everything done earlier, but, well, as you see, that didn’t work out.”
“Don’t even worry about it. Everything smells delicious, Ella. Thank you for inviting me,” I say with a smile.
Owen has already gone around to help her. When they deny my offer to assist, I make my way into the small dining area where they’re headed with the covered dishes.
Ella sets her items down and glances back up at me. “I made pot roast. I hope that’s okay.”
My stomach chooses that moment to gurgle. “I think that’s your answer.”
She laughs and starts to head back to the kitchen.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help with?” I ask with my hand on the back of the chair.
Ella shakes her head. “Absolutely. You’re our guest. Have a seat. Owen will get you a drink. We’ve got the three Ws: whiskey, water, or wine.”
I look over at Owen who’s back in the kitchen. “Whiskey, please.”
Before Ella gets any more frazzled, I take a seat in the chair against the window, so I can see them both working together in the small kitchen.
They share slight smiles and touches when they pass each other, and I wonder how different my childhood would have been if I’d had parents who even looked at each other when they weren’t required to.
