Chapter 13
Olivia
“Of course. Just dinner.” He stepped closer, the heat of his body making my nipples tighten traitorously. “But if you did agree, this wouldn’t be our home. The Carter estate is about five to ten times larger than this place.”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, unable to imagine a much bigger home than this penthouse. “Do you have your own zip code too?”
“Not quite, but we do have our own lake.”
The chef cleared his throat discreetly from the kitchen doorway. “Mr. Carter, dinner is served.”
Alexander placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward a dining area I hadn’t noticed before. A table for two had been set up near the windows, candles flickering between elegant place settings.
“You went all out for just dinner,” I said as he pulled out my chair.
“I never do anything halfway.” His fingers brushed my bare shoulders as I sat, sending electricity racing down my spine.
The chef brought out our first course, something with scallops that looked too pretty to eat. The delicate arrangement on the plate was like edible art, three perfectly seared scallops nestled on a vibrant green puree, topped with microgreens and surrounded by tiny dots of some orange sauce.
“Pan-seared scallops with pea puree, crispy pancetta, and citrus emulsion,” the chef announced before disappearing back to the kitchen.
I stared at my plate, almost afraid to disturb the presentation.
“You’re supposed to eat it, not just look at it,” Alexander said, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
“I feel like I should take a picture first.” I picked up my fork. “This is the kind of food people post on Instagram with hashtags like ‘food porn’ and ‘living my best life.””
Alexander watched as I took my first bite. The scallop melted in my mouth, buttery and sweet with a perfect caramelized crust.
“Holy shit,” I moaned, forgetting my manners. “This is fucking incredible.”
His eyes darkened at my reaction. “I’m glad you approve.”
“Approve? I want to marry your chef.” I took another bite, closing my eyes to savor it. “Seriously, this is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
“Is that so?” Alexander’s voice dropped an octave. “The night is still young.”
“1
I nearly choked on my scallop, heat flooding my cheeks. “I meant food-wise.”
“Of course.” His smile was pure sin.
The chef returned with wine, pouring a crisp white that paired perfectly with the scallops. I tried to eat more delicately, conscious of Alexander’s eyes on me.
“So,” I said between bites, “this is how the other half lives, huh? Personal chefs and penthouse views?”
“Does it bother you?”
I considered this as I sipped my wine. “No, just different from my world. My idea of a fancy dinner is ordering both the appetizer and entrée at Applebee’s. That, or cooking dinner myself.”
“What else would you order at this hypothetical Applebee’s dinner?”
“Mozzarella sticks, obviously. And probably their Bourbon Street chicken.”
“I’ve never been to an Applebee’s.”
I gasped dramatically. “What? That’s un-American.”
“I’ll add it to my bucket list.”
The chef cleared our plates and brought out the second course, a salad with some kind of fancy cheese and nuts. The presentation was beautiful, vibrant greens topped with candied walnuts and what looked like goat cheese, all drizzled with a balsamic reduction that formed artistic swirls on the plate.
“This is ridiculous,” I said, picking up my fork. “Do you eat like this every night?”
Alexander sipped his wine. “Not every night. Sometimes I just grab a protein shake after the gym.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you do. Let me guess: You have a personal trainer, too?”
“Two, actually. One for cardio, one for strength.”
“Jesus Christ.” I stabbed a piece of lettuce. “Your life is like some billionaire parody.”
Of course, the salad was amazing. The tangy and smooth cheese melted on my tongue, contrasting perfectly with the sweet crunch of the candied nuts.
The chef appeared again to clear our salad plates, replacing them with the main course: some kind of perfectly cooked steak with colorful vegetables and a sauce that smelled like heaven.
“Filet mignon with truffle butter, roasted fingerling potatoes, and seasonal vegetables,” the chef announced before disappearing again.
I cut into the steak, watching the juices pool on the plate. The meat was perfectly cooked, pink in the center with a caramelized crust. I took a bite and nearly moaned again. It melted in my mouth like butter, the truffle sauce adding a rich earthiness that made my taste buds sing.
“Good?” Alexander asked, his eyes tracking every movement of my lips.
Chapter 13
“It’s alright,” I teased, taking another bite. “I’ve had better at Denny’s.”
His laugh was unexpected and genuine. For a moment, he looked younger, less like the intimidating CEO and more like a regular guy enjoying dinner with a woman.
We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the clink of silverware and the soft jazz playing in the background.
–
I found myself studying him when he wasn’t looking the strong line of his jaw, the way his fingers wrapped around his wine glass, the subtle flex of his forearms when he cut his steak.
There was something almost predatory in his movements, controlled and precise. A man used to getting exactly what he wanted.
I took another sip of wine, trying to ignore the heat building low in my belly. This was just dinner with my boss. My insanely hot, obscenely wealthy boss, who’d seen me at my most vulnerable, was now offering me millions to marry him.
Just dinner. Right.
The chef appeared with dessert, a chocolate confection that looked like it belonged in a museum rather than on a plate. Two perfect quenelles of chocolate mousse nestled against a delicate chocolate cage filled with berries, all resting on a mirror-like glaze.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered, forgetting myself again. “That’s not dessert, that’s an art installation.”
Alexander’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You have quite the mouth on you, Olivia.”
“Sorry,” I said, not feeling sorry at all. “I tend to curse when I’m impressed. Or nervous. Or awake.”
He watched me take my first bite, his eyes darkening when I closed mine and made a small noise of pleasure.
“Good?” he asked, his voice lower than before.
“If I died right now, I’d die happy.” I licked chocolate from my lips, catching him tracking the movement.
