My stomach growls the moment I slide the plate of fillets out of my fridge. They’ve been marinating since I brought them home earlier and I won’t lie and say I haven’t been looking forward to them all day long. Inviting Trix over was a good idea — mostly because it forced me to splurge a little on a decent cut of meat.

Then again, it was still a bad idea from pretty much every other reason, from business ethics right on down to concerns for my general safety.

Butterflies do battle with hunger pangs in my gut. I’ll let them sort it out while I cook.

It’s six o’clock. Not quite time to start searing the steaks but time to pre-heat the oven for the hasselback potatoes.

I reach for the fridge and pause to stop from running into the large dalmatian planted at my feet.

“Hey, Layla,” I say to her.

She points her long snout from me to the plate on the counter.

“No,” I say. “That’s not for you.”

She lets out a whine.

I chuckle as I grab the bag of potatoes. “I’m sorry, girl. I know I always share but tonight’s special.” I pause. “I think.”

Her little eyes narrow.

“You’re right. It’s not. It can’t be. I’m not even sure why I asked her out, to be honest.” I bite my cheek. “Well, I mean, I know why but I’m not sure why I let myself go through with it, you know?”

I slide a large knife out of the holder in the corner, along with the sharpener from the drawer.

“What’s more shocking is that she said yes,” I add, peeking down at Layla. “She had every right to tell me to go fuck myself but she didn’t. She has every reason to not even talk to me at all, and yet...” I squint. “Do you think she’s playing me? I’m this close to putting her father in prison. Why would she even give me a minute of her time unless she thinks she can change that somehow?”

I toss a baby carrot into my mouth from the salad bowl, thinking hard.

“And I haven’t even mentioned the bodyguard. There’s obviously something going on there and he’s about the last dude I want to mess with, you know what I mean?”

I glance down at the dog again but she’s gone.

“Layla?”

I look into the living room ahead of me to find her resting in her usual spot beneath the coffee table.

“Sorry I bored you,” I say, smiling.

I push the thoughts away to focus on dinner. Soon the place starts smelling of various herbs and cooked meat and the battle in my gut rages just a little harder. I think the butterflies are winning, though. Any minute now, Trix is going to walk through my door and I’m not at all sure when she’s going to walk back out again.

No, Lance. Yes, you do. After dinner. She’s leaving after dinner.

You’ll make light small talk, share a good meal, and you’ll discuss the case.

That’ll be it. Dinner, conversation, and—

The doorbell rings and I clench.

Layla lifts her head, her snout instantly targeting the door across the room.

I give the salad one more quick toss before setting the tongs to the side.

“Be cool, Layla,” I say as I cross the kitchen. “It’s just a friend.”

She eyes me closely.

I reach for the doorknob and freeze as I realize I’m still wearing an apron. I tug the knot and it unravels before I slide it over my head and hang in on the coat rack by the door. A quick inspection of my tucked-in white shirt and black pants and I’m ready to go.

I whisper to myself. “Just dinner and conversation and—”

I open the door and there she is, standing on my stoop in a tight, black skirt and a red top, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a silver clutch in the other.

“Hey, Lance,” Trix says, her red lips curled into a smile.

“Hey.”

I try to say something more but she’s once again rendered me speechless. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice as her eyes drop to my feet and her mouth opens wide.

“And who is this?” she asks.

I look down to find the dog at my feet, staring up at Trix with great interest.

“This is Layla,” I say, taking a step back. “Come on in. She doesn’t bite. Just whines for attention, mostly.”

“Aww.” Trix follows me inside. “She’s so cute. I love dogs.”

She presents her hand and waits for Layla to sniff it. One little smell and she licks Trix’s palm and welcomes a quick pat on the head.

“And she seems to like you,” I say.

Trix laughs. “Good doggy has good taste.”

I admire the curve of her body as she bends over to scratch behind Layla’s ears. “Yes, she does,” I say, clearing my throat. I reach for the wine. “I’ll take that for you.”

She stands up and hands it over, her eyes scanning the entryway.

“Never pictured you with a dog,” she says as she follows me to the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask as I set the bottle on the counter.

“Figured you for more of a fish guy.”

I laugh. “A fish guy?”

“Yeah, a few aquariums with some over-priced tropical fish.” She stands on the other side of the island counter and watches as I fetch two wine glasses out of the cabinet. “Feed put on a timer. Automated cleaning. Low maintenance enough for you to be gone at the office for days at a time but just enough to talk yourself out of being lonely.”

“Oh, I’m anything but lonely.”

“I can see that.” She looks around again. “You have a nice place, too.”

“You’re surprised?” I ask.

“You constantly surprise me, Lance.”

“Good.” I pour a bit of wine into a glass and set it down in front of her. “You do, too.”

“Oh, yeah?” She pinches the stem of her glass. “How so?”

“You showed up, for one. Thought maybe I’d be having a quiet, candle-lit dinner with the dog. Not that she isn’t good company, but…”

She laughs. “You underestimate my weakness for free food. Speaking of, it smells like heaven’s steakhouse in here.”

“You said you wanted meat,” I say, “and I can do meat better than just about anything else.”

“Well, I knew if I had said Italian, you’d only screw it up,” she jokes.

I chuckle. “By your standards, most likely.”

She takes a sip of her wine. “How else?” she asks.

The oven dings behind me. I reach for a mitt.

“How else do you surprise me?”

She nods.

I open the oven and slide out the pan with two perfect potatoes on it. Trix’s eyes grow wide as she stares at them, impressed and hungry.

I pause to think. “So, this is what it’s like,” I say.

“What is?”

“Getting grilled with questions.”

She chuckles. “Ah, you stumbled on my evil plan so quickly, Mr. Tyler.”

“Never felt so on-the-spot before.”

“And I haven’t even gotten to the good ones yet.”

“Skip to a good one,” I say.

“All right.” She takes another sip of wine. “Why did you kiss me at the auction?” she asks.

“You were gonna kiss me first,” I say with a shrug.

“Yeah, on the cheek.”

“I thought…” I breathe a hesitant laugh. “Okay. I remember thinking if this is the only time I’ll get to feel her lips on me… then it’s not gonna be the cheek.”

She blinks. “Really?”

I nod.

“Wow.” She sips her wine. “That’s a good line. I’ll have to pass that one on to Melanie.”

“It’s true. You’re a beautiful, smart woman, Trix.”

“Thank you.”

“Which is why I still find it a little surprising that you’re even here at all,” I say.

“Meaning?”

I lean forward on the counter. “Does anyone else know you’re here?”

“Like who?”

“You know who.”

“No,” she answers. “No one else knows I’m here.”

“Do you plan on telling anyone that you were here?”

She squints in confusion. “When did it become my turn for questions?”

“Do you?” I ask again.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” she counters.

I don’t answer. She smiles.

“Lance, I know what you’re thinking.”

“You do?” I ask.

“How can I not?” Her head tilts. “I’d venture to say we both feel a little uncomfortable with aspects of each other.”

“Understatement.”

“But that’s not what I think about when I talk to you,” she says. “In fact, my father and his legal troubles are the last things on my mind right now and I want to keep it that way.”

I smile. “Really?”

“It’s ironic, I know, but… if it’s all right with you, I’d like to keep my family’s business off-the-table tonight. I’d rather just get to know you instead without all the… dramatic bullshit.”

“Keep it simple, huh?” I ask.

She pauses with a slight twitch in her eyes. “Yeah,” she says. “Simple.”

“Well, I’m not going to argue with that,” I say. The oven dings behind me and I slide my mitt on again. “Mostly because I have been dreaming of this since this afternoon and I’m not going to be talking much anyway…”

I slide the filet mignons out and she gasps.

“Damn,” Trix says, leaning in to smell the air. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I want you inside of me.”

“Why would I take that the wrong way?” I ask.

“Oh, I’m not talking to you,” she says, staring at the pan.

I laugh as I grab a few plates from the cupboard.