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“Your tiramisu and your ricotta cheesecake with espresso con grappa.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll get this in for you right away and your burrata should be out shortly.” The waiter took their menus and disappeared.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Grace must have had a bewildered look on her face. “That’s a lot of food.”
He reached for his wine and held it up as if he were about to give a toast. “Didn’t you know? Italians like to eat.”
***
Alexander took a drink of his wine, never taking his gaze off her. He was enjoying the look on her face too much. She’d seemed genuinely horrified by the price of the food earlier. He was positive she’d been doing calculations in her head. He wasn’t rich by any means, but he could afford to splurge on a good meal once in a while.
Gradually, a grin began to pull at her lips. “I guess I didn’t realize how true that was.”
“I promise all your doubts will be gone by the end of the evening.”
She started to say something, but then stopped when their waiter approached the table with their burrata and bread. Once he stepped away again, Grace seemed in no hurry to continue with whatever had been on her mind.
He cut open the burrata and motioned for her to help herself. “You said you worked in a café.”
“Yes.” After several long moments, she seemed to realize he wanted her to elaborate. “It’s not far from here, actually. The woman who owns it, Beth, she’s really nice.” Grace paused. “Working there has really helped me, with... you know.”
The wheels were turning in Alexander’s head as the pieces began slipping into place. He pushed them out of the way for the moment and reached out to lightly touch the back of her hand. “I do.”
A moment passed between them, one that those around them wouldn’t understand. It was one of understanding, grief, and of picking up the pieces when life threw you a curveball that knocked you flat on your ass.
She caught him slightly off guard when she flipped her hand over and rested her palm against his. “Thank you.”
Alexander gave her hand a slight squeeze and grabbed the bread, offering her some more. “I meant what I said the other day. If you need me, all you have to do is ask.”
Grace nodded.
For the rest of their dinner he tried to keep things light, although he was dying to ask more about Beth and the café where Grace worked. Surely it couldn’t be a coincidence? Beth was a common name and St. Louis was a big city, but how many Beths could there be in St. Louis who also owned cafés? And if it was the same Beth, did she know that his Grace was her employee?
Calling her his Grace seemed wrong somehow. She wasn’t his. She was Kurt’s. And even though Kurt was gone, it still felt like she belonged to him.
His gaze traveled to the necklace she wore. Maybe that was it. If it was in fact a collar and she still wore it, then she still belonged to him.
Which was completely irrelevant when it came down to it because Alexander wasn’t looking to start anything with Grace Martin. He was there to watch over her—to be her friend. That was it.
At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
Hours later, with their bellies full, they pulled up in front of her house, the last rays of the sun casting an almost orange glow on everything it touched. He turned off the engine and made his way to the passenger side of the vehicle to open her door. His leg was throbbing and he was having to lean on his cane, but he’d been taught you always walked a woman to the door and that’s what he was going to do.
“Thanks,” she said, pulling her skirt down as she stood.
“It’s me who should be thanking you.” Alexander closed the door. “I quite enjoyed the company. It gets boring having dinner with just yourself every night.”
She chuckled and there was a slight redness in her cheeks. He felt that pull to her again he couldn’t explain and he didn’t want to examine too closely.
As the evening wore on, Grace had begun to relax. He wasn’t sure if it was solely that she felt more comfortable with him or if the wine had something to do with it. Since he was driving, he’d limited himself to two glasses with dinner. Grace had polished off the rest of the bottle, but she wasn’t unsteady on her feet. That could have had something to do with the amount of food she’d eaten. He was sure it had been a while since she’d consumed that much in one sitting.
Alexander began walking toward the house and, as he’d hoped, Grace followed him. He noticed she kept glancing at his leg again, which made him realize how much he must be leaning on his cane.
“I’m fine.” She didn’t respond, so when they reached her door he stopped to face her. Her brow was furrowed and the edges of her mouth were turned down into a slight frown. He didn’t like it. Especially since only moments before she’d been in such a good mood. “Really, I’m fine. I worked out this morning, that’s all, and I’m paying the price for it now.”
Grace met his gaze as if searching to see if he was really telling her the truth or only saying that to make her feel better. Whatever she saw, it must have satisfied her. “You should take better care of yourself.”
