After breakfast I slipped back into my bedroom to get dressed and ready to finish picking up my things at my tiny apartment. Everything else would be boxed and stored in a storage unit, all of which had already been arranged. I still hadn’t told my dad all the details of my new job, but he was always busy working anyway. Knowing I was well and safe kept him content. Remi told me he could handle lunch on his own so I had plenty of time to get everything in order before dinner.

 

Having been so captivated by the size and scale of Remi’s kitchen had briefly made me forget everything I was giving up. I had a place of my own and now I was going to, essentially, live in a room. It was a very large and luxurious room to be fair, but it still wasn’t my home. I had cooked a final meal in my apartment’s tiny kitchen, a light lunch, and enjoyed eating it at my table. By the time I left I was more than okay with the decisions I had made. It was a new chapter in life.

 

That evening, I finished dinner for Remi right on time.

 

“What’s for dinner?” He asked as I was plating his dish.

 

I heard Remi sit at the kitchen table and I briefly wondered if that was where he would take his meal or if he preferred the formal dining room. “Stuffed chicken Valentino,” I told him. “With my own little twist, of course.”

 

Remi hummed in acknowledgment and delight when I sat his plate on the table in front of him. I stood back and admired my presentation for a moment. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t cooking for a high-end restaurant. I just loved to plate food beautifully. I made sautéed asparagus to accompany the chicken and artfully dotted a red sauce over the white plate. It was the sort of meal and presentation that photographed beautifully for four and five star restaurants.

 

My artful display was seemingly lost on Remi as poked at an asparagus spear before harshly cutting a piece of the stuffed chicken. He stuck it into his mouth unceremoniously and then made a satisfied ‘mmm’ sound. He cut another piece off and stuffed it in to his mouth, chewing quickly before swallowing.

 

“So what’s your little twist?”

 

“I can’t tell you.”

 

“Or what,” he laughed, “You’ll have to kill me?”

 

I playfully tapped my finger to my lip as if I were considering such an option. Then I shook my head, “No. If I told you I’d be out of a job.”

 

I let the confusing and slightly worrisome statement hang in the air between us before turning and walking back to the kitchen. I tidied things up a bit and wiped down the counter tops before turning back to look at Remi. He was busy enjoying his food, but he would occasionally look over to check out what I was doing. It didn’t make me feel awkward. He seemed more like a curious kid than anything.

 

“So good,” he announced loudly. his piece of chicken was nearly finished. “Never in a million years could I ever be able to cook like you,” he complimented. He stuffed another piece in his mouth with gusto and grinned once he swallowed it. “So, so good,” he repeated.

 

The way he looked at me while complimenting my cooking made my heart skip. I was trying so hard to stay completely professional toward Remi, but he had a way of getting inside of me and underneath my skin. Between his compliments and the cute way he hummed in savory delight, he was making me feel like I was about to go into cardiac arrest.

 

“Thank you,” I muttered somewhat nervously. “I’m glad you liked it.” I excused myself to fix my own dinner before taking a seat at the kitchen bar to eat.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

I swallowed before responding, “Oh, did you want me to wait to eat dinner until you were done? I–”

 

“What? No. That’s not what I– No,” Remi took a breath and straightened up in his chair. “I mean,” he went on more clearly, “Why are you sitting over there?”

 

I stayed quiet and stared at him, fork midair with a piece of chicken threatening to plop back down to my plate. I wasn’t quite sure where else I was supposed to sit. I wondered if he really was the type to have a separate room for the help or something. “I’m just taking my dinner here,” I said slowly.

 

Remi sighed exaggeratedly like I was being intentionally difficult, “Yeah but why?” He reached out and tapped the spot of the table adjacent to where he sat. I eyed the spot and then looked back at him. I wasn’t stupid; he probably was telling me to go sit next to him, but it just seemed so weird for some reason. “Come sit over here.”

 

“Oh, that’s very nice of you but not necessary,” I politely refused. In my mind going to sit over at the table with him to have dinner together blurred the line of professionalism and something more personal.

 

“Come on,” he insisted. “It’s not a big deal. What’s the real difference with you sitting over there? It just doesn’t even make– just come sit over here, won’t you?”

 

“I’m just the ch–”

 

“You’re not ‘just the chef’, Evelyn. You live here. Please, I insist.” He outstretched his hand toward the chair in an awkwardly polite manner.

 

I turned back to my plate to think for a second about what his comment could mean. I knew I shouldn’t focus on him saying I wasn’t ‘just his chef’. It didn’t have to mean anything, really. It could just mean he was trying to make me more comfortable since I was living there. I stood up and gripped my plate tightly before heading over to the kitchen table. I felt a little nervous as I sat down and suddenly realized it might have been better to sit across from him rather than next to him; but that was the chair he motioned toward. He was at the head of the table and I was on the broad side, so at least the corner of the table separated us. I focused my attention on my plate of food and kept my breathing steady.

 

“Sorry again about this morning,” Remi said quietly a couple minutes later. I kept my head turned down toward my plate, but I still glanced up at him. He was quiet and serious even though I didn’t think he needed to apologize. “My dad can be a real asshole.”

 

“It’s okay,” I reassured him softly, “I understand.”

 

I saw a change in his eyes. It was almost as if a certain level of hopefulness had lit up those brilliant blue eyes of his.

 

“So have you ever had a problem with your parents?”

 

I could tell he was treading carefully with his question, but he sounded genuine.

 

“No,” I said quietly, “Both my mother and father are great, but I do understand what it’s like not having a father around all that much.” Remi tilted his head and I could tell he was a little confused so I clarified. “He loves me more than anything, but often times he wasn’t around because he was working a lot.”

 

“Oh,” Remi understood. “It’s tough, isn’t it? It’s hard to know how to get through things when your dad isn’t around to help you. It’s even harder if he looks down on you.”

 

Remi drew in a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. He was looking out at the glittering city lights through the windows lining the wall. It was a stunning view, but I imagined it could also make a person feel lonely. Outside was a beautiful city bustling to life, but in this luxurious condo it was like Remi was isolated. A wave of sadness washed over me as I looked at his eyes, the city lights reflected in them.

 

“I can imagine,” I breathed out, but I spoke so quietly I wasn’t sure if he even heard me.

 

“And now he wants to step in and tell me how I should be. He wants to dictate everything I do when he was never around to guide me. At this point he just wants me to stop being myself, you know? He doesn’t like where I’ve ended up and it pisses him off so all he can do is go off on me.”

 

Remi ran his hand through his dark, golden brown hair. It was quite nice, actually. I imagined running my own fingers through it. I leaned my head to the side to rest it on my hand as I continued studying his every move. He was still staring out the window. I didn’t know what to say or if I should say anything at all.

 

“My dad wants me to live some kind of white picket fence family life or something. He makes it seem like that’s the only way to be a ‘real man’ and live right. It’s like he thinks that was the life he had and gave me but it’s all bullshit. He’s wrong. He was totally absent my whole life. How is that an idyllic family lifestyle?”

 

“I don’t know,” I mumbled sadly. I didn’t want to sound like I pitied him because that certainly wasn’t it. I didn’t know how to handle this for more than one reason. To begin with, it wasn’t exactly the kind of confession someone could make better with a pat on the back. Secondly, and perhaps what got to me more than anything, was that I never thought a ‘man’s man’ type like Remi would ever speak so openly about his feelings. He barely knew me and it wasn’t like we were friends or dating. He was being completely vulnerable in a way that disarmed me because that was the last thing I expected from a playboy jerk like him.

 

“He lectures me on everything now. I got to where I am now on my own. All on my own and…” Remi’s voice trailed off into a gulp. It sounded like he’d swallowed his feelings for fear of going too far. “All he ended up doing was creating a relationship that makes me resent him.” Remi closed his mouth and rested his forehead in the palm of his hand, gaze cast down toward his mostly empty plate of food.

 

I could tell he was done talking about this. I completely understood the pain of growing up with a father who wasn’t always around, but now that Remi had shared all this with me I knew his pain was on another level. I inched closer to him without thinking. I hadn’t stopped staring at him the entire time, half in sadness and half in fascination.

 

No matter how it was framed, Remi Parker opening up like this was completely unexpected. It was endearing to see a softer side to a guy like him though. I felt honored to be able to see a side to him that few else saw. I didn’t know what to do or say. I outstretched my hand, but quickly pulled it back; even if it were a friendly gesture of comfort I knew placing my hand on his arm was inappropriate.

 

Remi drew in a rattling breath and then let it out loudly as he shook his head. Then he finally looked up to meet my gaze. My heart pounded. Even though there was lingering sorrow in his eyes his stare was intense. “So what about you? What are your long term plans?” He chuckled, “Not to sound like a dad or anything.”

 

I was still taken aback from everything he had already said, but I was aware enough to roll with the punches. “My long term plan still centers on being a chef.”

 

“So do you want to be the next famous TV chef or something?” He chuckled again. I rolled my eyes at his teasing as he grinned at me.

 

His smile threw me off. It was cute and charming but, most importantly, it felt real. It gave him a boyish look despite his stubbly jawline and strong features. I smiled back and we both sat silently for a moment.

 

“Um, no. That’s not what I want.”

 

“So what do you want?”

 

I paused, taking notice of his tone when he asked the question. I hadn’t known him for long, but I already knew that look in his eye. He was already going back to his old trick of flirting and saying everything in a sexually suggestive tone. I cleared my throat and inched away from him, “My dream is to open up my own restaurant.” I looked at the impressed look on his face and decided to tell him a little bit about myself. “Actually, I’ve already picked the perfect location and everything. I have a meeting with the realtor sometime soon.”

 

“Wow, you really have it all worked out.” He smiled and paused before playfully acting extremely worried. “But if it’s going to happen so soon who will cook for me?”

 

I laughed, “Even if I get the place there is still tons of work to get done so you won’t have to worry about that any time soon.”

 

“And what will you have to worry about?”

 

“Hm,” I said, turning to look out the windows to think about it. If I did land the location, which was a big ‘if’ at this point, I already had a plan of how it needed to look. “Well, for starters, I’ll need to redo the kitchen. Once that’s done I’ll hire contractors to get the dining, waiting, and bar areas done. I want the bar area kind of separated from the main dining area just to have a slightly different vibe, but it’ll still need to be cohesive.” I paused and looked at Remi, who looked like a student in over his head. “Do you even have a clue what I’m saying?” I laughed.

 

“To be honest, not really.” He chuckled and shrugged, inching closer to me.

 

I noticed, but didn’t mind. I felt a fluttering in my chest, but instead of trying to shut it down this time, I just kept talking about the restaurant. “I have a specific look I’m going for you know? And I want–”

 

“Hold on,” Remi interrupted with bright eyes, “You mean to tell me you already have the decoration all planned out? Like to a T?”

 

“Not necessarily to a T but, yeah, I have it pretty well planned out. I’ve had a lot of time to dream about this.” I turned to look at his kitchen and closed my eyes as I imagined what my perfect restaurant kitchen would look like. “I know it’s uncommon, but I want the kitchen to look homier. Most restaurant kitchens look industrial; you know? Some are immaculate and designed beautifully, but they’re just so sterile. I don’t want that.”

 

Remi leaned in. I could see the same fascination in his eyes that I had felt toward him earlier. My breath stilled for a moment as I looked down at my hands twisting around nervously on the tabletop. He was quiet and waiting for me to continue, but when he leaned in so close to me it threw me off for a moment. I cleared my throat and my mind, but it was pointless. With Remi’s handsome face and brilliant blue eyes alive with genuine interest I couldn’t keep my head on straight. So I reached forward and took a long drink of water, looking out the window the entire time.

 

“I want it to be homier than the typical restaurant kitchen, even if it’s just a touch. I’ve already picked out a gorgeous antique French tile. It’s pricey and unorthodox for a restaurant kitchen, but I love it.”

 

“That’s great,” Remi told me. He placed his hand on the back of my chair and made my heart jump up to my throat. “It really is. It’s not just that you have a clear goal and passion. You have drive. You really love this and it shows. I’m not sure what the tile looks like, but I’m sure it’s real pretty if you’ve picked it out.”

 

I pressed the palms of my hands to my cheeks as I felt myself blush. It wasn’t a backhanded compliment like the one he gave me before, but it was certainly a muted one. He was much more toned-down than his usual self and it was something I appreciated. I tried to push certain thoughts out of my head. I didn’t want to focus on what I liked about him. That was dangerous territory.

 

“Thanks,” I mumbled, hands still pressed to my cheeks.

 

Remi gave a small nod, “Well, I’ll be sad to see you go whenever the restaurant really does get up and running.”

 

It was a sobering moment of honesty and I felt it down to my core. The nervous fluttering in my chest grew and spread to my stomach. I needed to step away from him; his close proximity was making my thoughts fuzzy. “Would you like more?”

 

Remi looked from my finger, pointing at the chicken, to my lips and then to my eyes. I gulped; there was no mistake his gaze had lingered at my lips even if it was brief. He shook his head, “I’m as stuffed as that chicken was before I scarfed it up.”

 

I laughed at his lame joke before gathering the plates from the table and making my way toward the sink. I was carrying an armful of them and just when I was starting to think maybe I should have considered two trips one of them slipped from my hand. It smashed down on the floor with a shatter. I froze, embarrassment flooding over me. I could already feel the heat in my cheeks.

 

“Shit,” I cursed before setting the surviving plates in the sink. “Oh fuck no. No, no, no,” I mumbled frantically under my breath when I saw the plate had completely broken into a million pieces on the floor. “Crap,” I crouched down to pick up the broken pieces from the otherwise immaculate kitchen floor.

 

I didn’t hear Remi’s footsteps when he walked up behind me. I only knew he was there when I felt a large, warm hand gently grab my arm to pull me back up. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get it,” he told me in a warm voice.

 

I shakily turned around to face him with my heart thumping in my chest. He didn’t let go of my arm. As soon as our eyes locked, I held my breath. I could still feel his firm grasp on me. The warmth of his hand spread all over my skin and sunk into my bones. My heart beat so fast I wondered if he could hear it. It felt like he was trying to stare right into me and not just look into my eyes. It was too much and before I knew what I was doing I spoke up, “No, I need to pick up the pieces. I need to pick up the broken pieces.”

 

Remi shushed me. I stared at him. It wasn’t rude or bossy. He just wanted to keep me in this moment even though it shouldn’t have started at all; but I stood rooted to the spot. My pulse thundered in my ears and drowned out the sound of the voice in my head urging me to stop this. He leaned down closer and closer. He was so close I could feel his warm breath under my nose.

 

My whole world went still.

 

The instant his lips brushed mine a million bells went off in my head and finally pulled me to my senses. I had to resist this, no matter how hard it was. I twisted my arm and pulled away.

 

“We… I shouldn’t,” I whispered.

 

“Live in the moment for once and stop thinking about consequences,” he said softly.

 

He leaned in again and this time I melted into him. The moment his lips pressed against mine was explosive. My heart rate skyrocketed and the thundering pulse in my ears was deafening. I felt every inch of my body move in toward him when he pulled me closer, his scent enveloping my world. I pressed into him as he ran the tip of his tongue over my bottom lip. I opened my mouth, inviting him in. I could taste the meal I had made for him on his tongue. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer.

 

He deepened the kiss and I had to come up for air. I drew in a deep breath, greedily as if I had just spent an hour underwater. He ran his hand through my dirty blonde hair. His blue eyes were shining with awe in a different way than when he looked at me in fascination earlier. He ran his thumb over my lips and I held my breath. I had always been slightly self-conscious about my lips with the top one being rather thin, but he seemed to like it. He cupped my cheek and kissed me again. His hand trailed from the small of my back to my hip before slowly sliding up my side.

 

His movements went from slow and admiring to full of desire. He kissed me deep and passionate. He placed his hand at the side of my chest. I pressed my breasts into his body. He held the back of my head firmly as he kissed me hard. I pushed my head back and looked up, gasping for air. I gasped not just because I needed to catch my breath, but because this was all so overwhelming.

 

He ran his hand up, slightly grazing the side of my breast, to cup my face between both hands. He stared me in the eyes and smiled; it was a small smile, but it was sweet and unexpected. It was the perfect set-up for the next kiss. He kissed me fervently and I was so lost in it that I didn’t immediately notice he was slowly walking me backward.

 

He was walking me toward the bedroom and I had one brief moment of clarity.

 

Every bone in my body screamed to run away.

 

I knew it was so wrong, but I didn’t want to stop. I knew deep down that I wanted him just as bad as he wanted me.

 

But at some point I said screw it. I’d deal with the consequences afterward.