Before You

“I hope I’ll get to meet him one day.”

“Me too,” he whispered, and he turned off his phone, slipping it back into his pocket, returning to the risotto.

I went over to the bottles again, deciding the one I had brought was the best option based on what I thought he was making. “Wine?”

When he glanced at me from the stove, I didn’t hold my breath.

I just wasn’t able to breathe.

“Please.”

It was only one word.

But I felt it everywhere.

“Wow.” I set down my fork, literally unable to put another bite in my mouth. “That was amazing.”

“You look surprised.” He was smiling, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

I’d opted for us to sit at a high-top table on the corner of his balcony instead of the dining room he had originally chosen for us. Once he’d turned on the heat lamp, neither of us could feel the wind outside. The setup couldn’t be more spectacular. And I appreciated that he wasn’t sitting far away, so I could take in even the smallest details despite already knowing them so well.

“I am, admittedly,” I told him, looking down at my plate where there was a tiny amount of food left. “Just because you eat well and enjoy good cuisine doesn’t mean you know your way around a kitchen.” I giggled as I thought about Ally’s ability to burn almost everything. “But you do, and this dinner was positively excellent.”

He’d paired the portobello risotto with seared scallops and roasted eggplant and green beans. I’d eaten almost the entire serving he’d plated. The fact that I’d gotten so much down made me incredibly happy.

But it went far deeper than that because it was a meal Jared had cooked just for me.

Maybe the walls inside his condo were missing pictures of him and his friends, the surfaces lacking personal artifacts that would show me a side I hadn’t seen yet. But what he’d made in his kitchen was something I wouldn’t be able to feel from a photograph, and that meant more to me than anything.

“Thank you.” He lifted his glass of wine and brought it to his mouth.

“It’s beautiful here.” I glanced across the balcony where there were several couches and a TV. “Is this your only home, or do you have others?”

We’d never discussed money. I’d always just assumed he was successful, but that hadn’t been confirmed until today.

I loved that.

Humbleness was so rare nowadays.

“I have a house in Aspen.”

I took a drink of my wine. “I’ve never skied out west.”

“No?”

I shook my head. “Just all over New England.” When his smile started to grow and didn’t fall, I added, “I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say, and my answer is still no.”

He bit his lip. “I tried.”

Even though he was now glancing toward the night sky, I continued to look at him, trying to read his expression, understanding the mystery behind those dark eyes.

“I have to ask you a question.” I waited for him to look at me again before I said, “Your company obviously does extremely well, and I have to assume a business of your size has a jet.”

His face didn’t change. His gaze didn’t even intensify.

“I guess what I’m asking is, why weren’t you on your own plane that day?”

I hadn’t realized the question would be so hard. That the answer might change everything, and I didn’t like the thought of it at all.

Still clutching his wine, he turned the stem in his hand, staring at the burgundy waves before looking back at me. “The company jet wasn’t available.” He put the drink down, his hand going to my thigh, his thumb brushing across the center of it. “First-class was sold out, and seat 14B was the only one left with extra leg room.”

I put my hand on top of his, locking my fingers in place. “I’m so grateful for that.”

FIFTY-ONE

JARED

MY EYES FLICKED OPEN JUST like they had in college when I heard someone’s hand touch my doorknob. The same way they had at my first few apartments before I could afford a building like the one I lived in now. The second someone was in my space, an alarm went off in my head.