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“What’s for dinner?”
“Stir fry.” He looks over at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m going to get you back for throwing me in the pool.”
“You looked like you needed to cool off.” I shrug and snatch a slice of bell pepper, popping it in my mouth. When I reach for a carrot, he swats my hand.
“If you’re going to keep stealing the dinner prep, you’re going to be chopping more.”
I roll my eyes and open the fridge, pulling out a handful of cherries before sitting down on one of the barstools. Evan doesn’t say much as he works and I don’t bother trying to start a conversation.
There’s something about having a man cook for me that makes me melt a little.
It had been years since someone last cooked dinner for me, and since moving in with Evan it’s happened more than once.
“What did you spend the rest of your day getting up to?” he asks as he pours some oil into a frying pan.
“I had two papers that I needed to do some research for and then I had to study for two upcoming tests.”
“Sounds like a long afternoon.”
I shrug and eat some of my cherries. “It wasn’t that bad, honestly. Normally there’s a lot more work to do.”
Evan shakes his head. “Business courses were more than enough work. I can’t imagine going through law school.”
“It’s not that bad. I like the challenge. And it makes you look at some things in a different way. Especially the criminal law classes.”
Evan stares at me for a moment. It looks like a thousand different thoughts are running through his mind. He looks away from me but the thoughtful expression is still on his face.
“You know, when I first saw you, I didn’t think that you would be a law student.”
I frown as I munch on the last of my snack. “I get that a lot. Blonde girl with a nose ring doesn’t translate into lawyer for most people. Especially once they hear that I worked as a bottle service girl.”
“You’re certainly not what I expected.”
“I’m not sure I want to know what you were expecting.”
Evan drops the vegetables into the pan and fries them. He looks at me and shrugs. “I was thinking of a different kind of woman entirely.”
We’re quiet for a few minutes as he focuses on dinner, frying the vegetables before boiling the rice noodles. He grabs some sort of sauce from the cupboard and pours it on top of everything.
A few minutes later, there’s a steaming bowl of vegetable stir fry in front of me and a handsome man sitting beside me.
There is no way that this is my life.
“So,” Evan says after a few minutes of silence. “I need a date for an upcoming charity gala and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
I freeze beside him, images of fancy balls running through my mind. If I agree to go with him, I’ll feel entirely out of place. The night will be spent brushing elbows with the rich and watching them talk about things that mean nothing to me.
They all gather and act like they’re making a difference but most of them never actually interact with the people they’re supposedly helping.
“I don’t think that the gala is a good idea. Isn’t there normally media at these things?” I try to find any excuse I can, other than telling him that just the thought of going makes my skin crawl. “Are you sure that pictures of us plastered all over the internet are a good idea?”
Evan shrugs. “There won’t be any cameras there. The gala is going to be at a private estate.”
A private estate. Because why refer to it as a home?
“And people won’t take pictures of us and sell them to the highest bidder?”
“That’s a possibility no matter where we go together.”
