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My jaw clenches for a second before I withdraw the tension. It’s not pity dancing in her gaze, but interest. I swallow hard, swallowing my pride in the process. I raise my glass of wine. “I’d like to make a toast.”
Chelsea raises her glass immediately. “What are we toasting to?”
“To you, for agreeing to have dinner with me this evening.”
Chelsea blushes and we ping our glasses together.
The mains go down a lot better than the starters. Although Chelsea still refuses to try anything that she refers to as ‘odd’.
I hover my cutlery above the plate of coq au vin in front of me and stab my fork into a roasted cauliflower wedge. “You know, as children we would be made to eat every last crumb from our dinner plates before we were excused.”
“Wow, it really sucked to be you.”
I look up from my plate and notice how Chelsea’s entire demeanour has changed. Although the cagy version of Chelsea is a hoot, I must admit that I like this side of her—the side of her that engages in idle conversation and doesn’t see me as akin to something she’s stepped in.
After she rejects three main courses, I’m surprised to see Chelsea say yes to one. It would seem we have found something that she likes: deep-fried chicken wrapped around cheese and ham. A dish so simple, yet utterly delicious. I point my fork toward her plate. “How’s the chicken cordon bleu?”
She nods and uses her napkin to dab the corners of her mouth. “It’s so good. Tyler would be proud of me. Before he left for America, he set me the challenge to try new things and live a little.”
This girl doesn’t know the definition of living, but I’m hoping to change that in the near future.
The wine flows easily, and one bottle quickly becomes two. I am not much of a wine drinker. After a few glasses I would normally move on to brandy. But tonight is different. I’m enjoying the wine as much as I am the company. Everything feels nice, feels natural.
Our conversation started off on matters such as business and her beauty salon, and quickly turns to series she likes to watch on Netflix. Her steady tone is swallowed up by laughter and intermittent hiccups.
“So, tell me why you bought the farmland?” Chelsea hiccups.
I shrug. Although I feel the alcohol loosening my tongue, it hasn’t pushed me into the realms of being tipsy yet. “Long story short, I want the housing company.”
Chelsea pops a profiterole into her mouth, her head swaying from side to side. “And owning the farmland will help?”
“No. Converting the farmland into high-spec Calloway houses may. But I don’t think it’s enough. I feel like Father wants more from me.”
“Like what?” Chelsea says, her hand covering her mouth as she chews.
“I suspect that our father wants to see at least one of us brothers accomplished in every aspect of his life. Both in the business sense, and personally. It is he after all who keeps reminding us that behind every successful man is an equally strong woman.”
Chelsea lets out a grunt and when she moves her hand from her face, I notice a small dollop of cream on her chin. “So, he wants you married with kids?”
I hold my cutlery out in an ‘I don’t know’ gesture. “I think if I had a wife, or even a fiancée, that I would be taken more seriously.”
“Good luck with that.” Chelsea reaches for her glass of wine, but I remove it from the table.
“I think you’ve had enough.”
She gives me a thumbs-down gesture. “Not cool.”
I signal Ronald to bring over a jug of water and point not so subtly to Chelsea.
“It would seem we will only be happy when we have our working lives sorted,” Chelsea continues.
As drunk as she is, her statement is true. Chelsea will only be truly happy when her beauty salon is open, and I when I’m flying the Calloway Housebuilders’ flag.
I place my elbows on the table and use the tip of my index finger to balance my chin.
Hiccupping, Chelsea cups her hand around her mouth. “You’re not allowed to put your elbows on the table.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I tease and lean in close. I reach out across the table and with my finger wipe the small dollop of cream from her chin and without hesitation I suck my finger into my mouth. “What if I told you there was a way we could solve both of our dilemmas?”
