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We ordered when Stanley reappeared, and our conversation switched to a normal conversation about the weather, today’s events, and the Yankees versus the Mets.
When the food arrived, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her voice was soft, almost inaudible. “I am grateful today that I landed a job to earn a million dollars for the children.”
When she reopened her eyes, I added. “And I’m grateful that you accepted, but wasn’t that yesterday?”
She shrugged and forked a green bean. “It happened after dinner yesterday, so it goes on today’s list.”
As we ate, she became increasingly at ease in her part. We held hands and exchanged laughs, while she whispered things that I could tell were generally meant to keep me from getting my hopes up that she would ever stop disliking me.
In retaliation, I pulling engaging blushes from her each time I told her how beautiful she was. Another of Gramps’ sayings made sense to me now. He’d told me once that bestowing a kindness wasn’t giving something away, because those things had a way of coming back around. I’d felt compelled to help Alexa in the past, and now she was helping me. There was a symmetry in this.
She leaned in again, “I don’t like you.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Allie.” I found her taunts amusing, and she was supposed to be a long-term girlfriend, so I had a lot of time to overcome resistance. Also, not liking was better than hating. So far, her most glaring flaw was that she was a Mets fan.
“I’m considering a different approach our charitable giving, and I’d like your help.”
“With this—” She circled her finger. “—thing were doing, I’m out of spare time.”
“I’d like to take a look at pulling back from all the national programs and reallocating to smaller charities, such as yours—local efforts that will directly impact our fellow New Yorkers.”
She looked at me over her glass. “You’re starting to sound like a campaign speech.”
“I’m serious. But my problem is—rather, I could use your help identifying candidate charities in the city, maybe extending to the tri-state area. I’d need to talk to them first and decide if resourcing them more heavily made sense.”
She contemplated for a few seconds. “If you’re serious about this, I’ll draw up a list.”
“I look forward to it.” It seemed like the right time, so I snaked a hand behind her neck and leaned in. “I’m going to kiss you.”
She closed her eyes.
I felt her relax as our lips met. I kept it very brief, as a test. “I’m grateful that we came back together,” I breathed as I pulled away.
She sighed, and some doubt lingered in her eyes.
“Too soon?” I asked.
“I guess not.” She blinked. “But I have another question. Who have you told about us? I mean, the real story?”
“Only my brother…and Albert.”
“Not your father or this consultant person?”
“Nope, and its staying that way. What about on your side?
“My two best friends, Chelsea and Gwen. But none of my family.”
I nodded. “What will your father think when he finds out?”
She rolled her eyes. “He already saw the pictures from last night.” She shook her head. “I told him we were dating, and he may have had an aneurysm over the phone. I’m not welcome in his house. He doesn’t want me tocontaminatemy sister is how he put it.”
I quickly changed the subject, and the rest of the dinner was quite pleasant. I was able to finally see how the Alexa I’d helped from a distance had grown up to achieve her life goals. She was particularly animated when talking about what she hoped to accomplish in her community as a CPA.
We finished this dinner the same way as last night, with orders of crème brûlée.
“Oh, and we’ll also want one to go,” Alexa told our waiter.
I raised a brow. “Still hungry?”
