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“We’re just getting started. We could have another sit down and discuss options.”
Hmm. That idea appealed to him. It seemed like an eternity had passed since he last saw Marissa in person, when in fact it had only been a little over a week.
“We could do that but not in your office. We should meet at my restaurant in Decatur, The Wine Cork. It’s closed for renovations at the moment, but I’ll cook for you.”
“No, that’s not necessary.”
“You said you’re a foodie, and I’m a chef. Surely you don’t plan to turn down a free meal.”
She pursed her lips, and he waited.
“You drive a hard bargain.”
He let loose a soft laugh. “I have a feeling that I didn’t have to try very hard.”
She fought a smile and lost, her dark eyes lighting up and wrinkling at the corners in the most becoming way. “All right, you win. You’ve twisted my arm. I should probably see you in your element anyway.”
“I promise I’ll make the trip to Decatur worth your while. How about Tuesday night?”
“Can we plan for Thursday night instead? That’ll give me time to pull together more options for you.”
“Not a problem.”
“Make sure you bring your A-game. I’m expecting big things from a man with three Michelin stars.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a chuckle, enjoying the banter with her.
“I need to write my notes. I’ll let you go now.”
“Good night, Marissa.” Reluctantly, Bruno hung up, hating their conversation had to end.
Marissa was an attractive woman with a witty sense of humor and warm personality. Why didn’t she have a man in her life? She should.
Then there was her pesky rule about not getting involved with clients. Perhaps he could change her mind. He did love a challenge…
His body stirred with the thought of tracing her curves with his hands—and his tongue. At any rate, he looked forward to cooking for her. He didn’t know what he’d make yet, but he had plenty of time to think of a dish between now and then. Probably something simple but flavorful.
“I hope you don’t mind my saying, Mr. Santana, but tonight’s date must have gone well,” Orson said.
Bruno’s eyes connected with the driver’s in the rear-view mirror. “Actually, the date did not go well. The woman I met turned out to be dishonest and aggressive in a way I didn’t find particularly appealing.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought the date went well, since I saw you smiling and laughing with her just now. And you still have a smile on your face.”
Bruno frowned in confusion. Then he realized the driver thought Marissa had been his date. “Are you talking about my conversation on the phone? That was a different woman—my matchmaker. I was recapping the date for her.”
“Ahh, I see. Too bad your date didn’t go as well as the recap.” Orson returned his attention to the road.
Long afterward, as he watched the nighttime scenery go by, Bruno registered his good mood continued to linger. All because of Marissa. Orson was right.
He enjoyed discussing the dates with her much more than he enjoyed going on the actual dates.
Chapter Fourteen
“How are the wedding plans going?” Bruno talked into his Bluetooth, leaving his hands free as he moved around The Wine Cork’s kitchen.
Taking advantage of the strawberries he picked from his mother’s garden last time he visited the house, he had prepared the batter for a strawberry bread as dessert. He would top it off with a glaze after the loaf came out of the oven and cooled.
“Thank goodness for wedding planners,” his older brother, Ethan, a real estate developer, said. “The closer we get to the wedding date, the more interesting issues crop up.”
