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Because this moment matters to what happens next.
I’ve done something for her I’ve never done for anyone else. I reached out. I gave an apology. Now it’s up to her where it goes.
She crosses the floor with a swift, purposeful stride, and my heart’s pounding like crazy even though I do my best not to let it show in my face and in my eyes. I didn’t think I could find a way back into her good graces until I saw that ChitChat video.
The door to my office doesn’t slam open like she’s pissed, and I let out a little sigh of relief as she closes it behind her. She’s serious, but she’s not angry. There’s a chance it might have worked.
She holds out the thimble and says, “I assume this is from you?”
I give her a grin and say, “I don’t know, Wendy Darling, have you been receiving kisses from anyone else?”
“Funny,” she says and sits down across from me. “Why’d you buy that book for me?”
“Because I thought you might like it, so I picked up a copy for you.”
Madison blinks several times, like I’ve said something ridiculous. Which I have. “A copy? You mean, a book that’s nearly as old as America? Come on, Emery. Why’d you give me that book?”
Now comes the hard part. Admitting the reason, and not letting her know just how nervous I am.
“I kissed you, Madison, and I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret is that you didn’t kiss me back. Let me have another shot at convincing you to want to kiss me back, and we’ll call it even.”
She lets out all the air in her lungs at once, like what I said was a punch to the stomach. “Come on, the thought of kissing me can’t be that bad.”
Madison shakes her head. “Emery, you know we shouldn’t do this. I’m your intern, and you’re… well, you’re the famous Emery Brooks who never goes anywhere without a beautiful woman on his arm. That’s a quote from you, by the way. This can’t work out well.”
“I didn’t ask you to marry me or move in with me. Stop worrying so damn much about the future and live a little. How terrible would it be to go on one date with your boss? Plus, you’d definitely qualify as a beautiful woman.”
She gives me a look that screams, “Do you really want me to answer that?”, and I take a deep breath. God, nothing is easy with this woman, is it?
Finally, she shakes her head. “Fine. One date. Tonight. After that, you and I go back to being boss and intern. I owe you that after you bought me something that probably should be in a museum.”
She looks far less excited about a date with me than I’d hoped, but a date is a date. “Great. I’ll pick you up and we can cook dinner together at my house. Any preferences on food choices?”
She grins then, her eyes lighting up, and it worries me. “Surprise me, Peter Pan. You figured out my favorite book, so I’ll be interested in whether you can repeat your magic.”
I chuckle as she stands up, but my eyes go to her ass in the tight little black pencil skirt. I may be attracted to her personality, but I’m still a man, and I can’t keep from thinking about what she’d look like bent over and moaning.
Maybe if I play my cards right, I’ll get to close the blinds and lock the door for pleasure rather than business for once.
Chapter 14
Emery
“If I could eat any food every day for the rest of my life, it’d be crab manicotti. Good luck finding a restaurant that serves it or a man that’ll cook it, though. I have yet to find that perfect combination of sexy guy with a heart of gold who also moonlights as a master chef. I guess that I’ll have to settle for a book boyfriend until then.”
Just like before, her old videos give me insights into Madison. I may not be a master chef, but I’ll give it hell.
I quickly shoot my mom a text.
Emery Brooks:Do you have a recipe for crab manicotti?
She’s been cooking for family dinners for years. If I know anyone who might have a good recipe for a dish, it’s her.
Eleanor Brooks:Crab manicotti? Who in their right mind would add crab to manicotti? Maybe just mix in some crab with the ricotta filling? Wait. Are you cooking for someone? Is it a girl? Don’t you ignore me, Emery Brooks!
Ugh. I am not getting into a conversation about my dating life again with my mother. Not right now. I have to win the girl before I tell Mom about her.
I sit in the grocery store parking lot and begin searching the internet. It’s been a long time since I cooked for myself, much less for someone else, but it’s not the first time. Manicotti’s tough, though. I make a mental note to buy extra shells just in case some of them are broken.
