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“Yeah, I guess.”
“You should’ve refused.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew my dad.”
Ah. He wasn’t the international man of mystery I’d presumed, but in business working for his father.
“I get it. I work in a family-run company too,” I told him.
Now I understood his predicament. People had the misconception that working for family members made it easy, but the opposite was true. Uncle Ernst wouldn’t hesitate to ask me to do something he’d never in a million years expect a non-family employee to do.
Josh nodded with raised brows, but didn’t pursue the question. The bag of Italian food he opened had well-sealed plastic containers instead of those leaky Styrofoam boxes.
The delicious aroma hit me as soon as he popped the lid. Fettuccine with marinara and small meatballs, topped with a sprinkling of parmesan.
He held up the container. “Want some? I’ve got plenty.”
“No, thanks. I ate.” I said no, but my salivary glands disagreed. I swallowed to keep from drooling. The cardboard sandwich I’d gotten at the airport had lasted only a single bite before I tossed it, and my survey of the surroundings had found all the decent restaurants closed up for the night. Apparently I hadn’t gone far enough to find real food.
“You sure?”
I nodded, afraid my voice would betray me if I verbally declined.
He shrugged. “Your loss.”
In an attempt to keep my growling stomach at bay, I opened my book and started reading.
Before long, he’d consumed about half of his pasta, interspersed with mouthfuls of Caesar salad from the second container. At one point, he held up his fork for a second. “Hold on.”
I looked over and couldn’t help but stare at that beautifully imperfect chin. I wondered how he’d gotten the scar.
He brought a lone noodle to his lips. “So, you had to leave early too?” He sucked in the noodle.
I sighed, wanting to be that noodle. “No. I could only get away for a week, and time’s up. Now I wish I’d made it ten days instead.”
He waved the fork. “So, let me understand. Last night when you agreed to join me for dessert another time, you planned on standing me up?”
I could almost feel the blood draining from my face. “No. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I was just so flustered after making a fool of myself, I answered without thinking.”
“So youdidwant to join me?”
“Of course. I was walking over, wasn’t I?”
He ate another bite of salad. “In that case, the offer to split dessert tonight is still open.”
“Donuts?”
“Only one. But I’m still offering to share. You like chocolate?”
An easy question. “Who doesn’t? It’s one of my main food groups.”
After closing his dinner containers, he spread his legs to drop them to the floor. The warmth of his thigh against mine was more noticeable than it should have been. He kicked the plastic under the seat in front of him and opened the Dunkin’ Donuts bag. He split the donut in half. “Pick one.”
I chose the piece that looked smaller, as Mamma had taught me. “Thank you.” I decided she would have declared Josh a gentleman. I held a hand under my mouth to catch the sprinkles that fell when I bit into the delicious morsel. I’d learned the hard way how sitting on sprinkles could result in stains. “This is good,” I mumbled after a mouthful.
“Only the best for a beautiful lady.”
I felt my blush rising to a low-grade fever.
