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“No, you work. I’ll order the food. What are you hungry for?”
“I’ll call. It’ll only take a minute.” She grabbed her phone off the desk.
“No. I’ll do it.”
She knew that tone. She could argue all she wanted but he wouldn’t budge. That meant she was in for a long night of listening to him complain because he was very particular about his food.
“Don’t look at me like I can’t order takeout. I survived quite fine ordering food before I met you.”
“I’m sure you did okay.” She fought not to smile at his dark look. “But you get even crabbier when your food isn’t right and then I have to listen to you whine about it all night.”
“I don’t whine. I just don’t like incompetence.”
“They can’t get it right if you don’t tell them what you want.”
“Don’t blame me for their screwups. I order the food and I expect to get what I order.”
“Harker, just let me do it.”
“No. I don’t want to hear how you would’ve been done working if I hadn’t made you call for takeout.”
“I could’ve been done by now. This is wasting more time.”
“Then stop arguing with me.”
“Fine.” She was going to grind her teeth to dust before the evening was over because he’d mutter and grumble all night when his order was wrong.
“Good. What are you hungry for?”
“I don’t care. Whatever.” She turned back to her computer. “Call me when it’s here.”
“Okay. Do you want spaghetti, ravioli or lasagna? Lasagna will take longer.”
“Italian?” She looked up at him, wrinkling her nose.
“Apparently not,” he said drolly.
“No, that’s fine if you want Italian. I’ll just have the bread and salad. I’m not in the mood for anything heavy.” She’d eaten too much when they’d ordered room service at the Club. The food was extraordinary.
“I’ll order sandwiches. Do you want turkey—”
“Sandwiches? For dinner?”
“Tell me what you want me to order.” His hands clenched at his sides like he wanted to strangle her.
“I told you. Anything is fine with me.”
“If that were true, the Italian food would be here already.”
“Oh…please. We haven’t been talking about it that long.”
“Longer than we should.”
“You know what? Surprise me.” She turned back to her computer.
“No, tell me what you’re hungry for.”
“Nope. You pick.” She glanced up at him. “You’re on your own.”
