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“Shall we go enjoy some dinner downstairs?”
I nodded, more than a little bit enthusiastic to get the food show on the road. “After all that hot afternoon sex and no lunch, I am so hungry I could eat the asshole out of a dead monkey.”
Kline’s laugh was raucous enough to echo off the walls of our living room and out the balcony doors to the ocean. I swore there was a sea turtle out there somewhere falling in love at first sound. “You sure have a way with words, Mrs. Brooks.”
I shrugged, admitting, “That’s one I got from Cass, as you might imagine. But she’s used it so much over the years, I guess it stuck.”
He laughed at that, this time with a little less shock, and gently placed his hand at the small of my back, leading us toward the entryway of our suite. But just before we reached the door, three raps sounded against it and stopped our progress.
Kline tilted his head to the side in confusion but reached out to turn the handle and open the door anyway. My man, even in the face of uncertainty, was never one to beat around the bush. It was part of what I loved about him. He was the perfect amount of confident, stopping just shy of being cocky.
On the other side, smiling at us from the threshold, stood a friendly, fiftysomething man of Asian descent wearing a white chef’s jacket and tall red chef’s hat. From the look on my husband’s face, I guessed he didn’t recognize him either.
“Mr. Brooks?” the man asked, smiling back and forth between the two of us.
“That’s me,” my husband replied. “Can I help you with something?”
“Are you ready for dinner, sir?”
“Well…” Kline paused, and his gaze flitted down toward me for a quick moment before landing back on the man. “Yes. We were just on our way downstairs now.”
“Oh, no, sir,” the man interjected with a shake of his head. “No need to go downstairs. A very special evening has already been planned for you and your lovely wife right here in your room.”
“What?” I questioned, a little bit of disappointment mixing with outrage.Hell’s bells, if I would’ve known that, I would’ve, you know, stayed in the cozy resort bathrobe after my shower and skipped these damn heels…
“We’re eating in the room?”
Kline started to shake his head, but before he could respond, Mr. Chef chimed in again.
“Yes, ma’am. I am Haruto, and it would be my greatest pleasure to serve you tonight.”
Kline, never one for bullshit and a dab-hand at reading my face, cut right to the chase. “You’ll have to excuse me, Haruto, as I’m sure your food is wonderful, but my wife and I did not plan this dinner. There must be some kind of mistake. Are you sure you have the right room?”
Haruto glanced to the side of the door to double-check the gold number plaque and then back my husband. “I am sure, Mr. Brooks. I am here to be at your service. I can see that this wasn’t your plan, but I assure you, it will be my greatest honor to make this a meal you remember always.”
Kline smiled, replying diplomatically, “We really appreciate that, Haruto. You’ll have to excuse us. We’re just confused. Do you happen to know who planned this dinner?”
“Actually, sir, it’s compliments of the resort,” he answered. I swear, for the briefest of moments, a secret smile sat behind his eyes, but it disappeared between one blink and the next.
“Mr. Diamond arranged this?” Kline asked, surprised. “I didn’t even tell him it was a special occasion.”
“Oh, sir. Any occasion with your wife is meant to be a special one, yes?” He offered a knowing grin. “The Diamond Resort just wants you and Mrs. Brooks to have the best stay possible.”
My husband’s eyes focused on me again, and I could see the wheels of his mind turning. He was skeptical; that much was apparent. I wasn’t sure exactly why, since the people at the front desk had started fawning over us the moment we got here, but he was practical at heart. My dear husband had a tendency to forget that he was a freaking billionaire and that people loved to toss the world at his feet just for the hell of it.
I wanted to pull him to the side and explain it gently. Really, I did.
But, see, I was fucking hungry.
And food basically trumped everything. So, I was going to go with the KISS—keep it simple, stupid—method and get the hell out of Haruto’s way so he could get to cooking.
“It was probably just your friend Antonio,” I reassured in the name of my empty stomach. “I mean, think about everything that was waiting for us when we arrived.”
“You are newly wedded, correct? The romance is very important,” Haruto jumped in, obviously trying to help me hurry this decision along.
“Are you sure you’re okay with the change?” Kline finally turned to me to ask. The relief that we would be eating soon made me want to fall to my knees and weep.
“Completely fine. I just want to eat.” Lord knew, calling off Haruto would be a lengthy ordeal. The man was politely dogged, and I didn’t think he would be giving up with a simpleNo thanks.
