Page 25 of Enchanting the CEO

“I had a hunch it was." His voice was uncharacteristically dry.

He made it sound like it wasn't a big deal, but I was starting to think he’d just been placating us. That was very unlike Maddox.

“All right, keep me up-to-date.”

“That’s the plan.”

After hanging up, I decided to run another thirty minutes on the treadmill. I needed to blow off steam even more than before.

When I returned home, I was surprised by the delicious aromas permeating the house. Putting my gym bag down, I called "Diane?"

"Hi. I'm in the kitchen,” she replied. "I wasn't sure when you were coming back, but I thought I’d get started on making lasagna."

I went straight to the kitchen. She was wearing a dress now. Was she trying to kill me? She looked absolutely mouthwatering. It was short but not tight. Thank fuck, because then I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off her. I was fighting to be on my best behavior as it was.

"It won’t take long for it to be ready," she said. "I made the sauce already." She was now frying the meat.

"Can I do something to help?"

"No, I'm used to cooking by myself. I'm not even sure how to delegate in the kitchen."

"You went grocery shopping?" I asked, looking at all the ingredients on the counter.

She smiled sheepishly. "There was nothing in the fridge, and I wanted to cook us something. You really live on takeout, huh?"

"Honestly, yes.”

"Cooking is one of my favorite things. And lasagna is my comfort food. I used to be in charge of all the cooking duties growing up."

"What about your mom?"

She sighed. "She'd been sick for years, so she couldn't always do it, but she taught me well. Whenever she felt better, I took advantage and asked her to show me as many recipes as possible."

"You had a lot of responsibilities on your shoulders growing up."

"Yeah, but it worked out. My sister and I split tasks. Celia hates cooking, but I never minded it. She went grocery shopping when she was old enough, and I had to be strict with her about the budget and everything."

She spoke about this as if it was the most natural thing in the world for kids to manage household budgets and do the brunt of the cooking and chores.

“Your dad?”

She shrugged. “Not in the picture.”

So we had that in common. Shitty dads.

"So, you don't cook because you don't have time?" she asked. "Or because you don't know how to?"

"Caught me there." I grabbed a Coke and stepped next to her. I seemed to naturally gravitate toward her when we were in the same room. Frankly, it was disconcerting. "I've maybe cooked three whole meals my entire life."

"That can't be true."

"And I'm pretty sure two of those were making ramen noodles in college."

She laughed. "Gabe, how do you even survive?"

"I get by. Don’t know why I never learned. Mom was a good cook, actually."

“Oh, is she in Boston too?”

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