Page 41 of Without Apology

Uh-huh. Being interviewed by Simon definitely would not be fine.

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It had been a long day. And it was only Monday. After arriving home, I let Cooper out and changed out of my work clothes. I needed to go through the last half of the day’s emails, but first, I was cooking.

One, because I loved it, and two, because I had a craving for spaghetti. I even put on some music to help me relax. It was a simple recipe. My mother’s spaghetti sauce with oregano, basil, and plenty of garlic mixed with hamburger. The sauce was simmering by the time I took the noodles off the stove to drain. Then I heard the knock.

I wiped my hands and walked along with Cooper to the front door. Looking out the peephole, I saw Simon standing there in another suit. I wondered how many he owned as I’d yet to see him repeat any.

As I opened the door, I noticed he appeared anxious. The sun had gone down, and it was starting to get chilly. “Hi.”

“Hello. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure, come in.” The fact he’d driven all the way here had me curious. It also made my heart start to gallop. I shut the door behind him and preceded him into my kitchen. I watched as he pet Cooper, who acted as if he’d missed him.

Surveying the stove, he asked, “Are you expecting someone?”

“No. I’m cooking dinner. You hungry?”

His eyes met mine, locked in the way that had become familiar and caused my face to heat. His intensity was both unsettling and arousing. “Yes, but I didn’t mean to interrupt your night.”

I broke the stare first. Looking back at the stove, I transferred the noodles back to the pan and threw in some butter. I needed to keep my hands busy if I was to act remotely casual about having him in my kitchen. “You’re not interrupting. Everything okay?”

“Actually, it’s better than okay.”

He took a seat on the stool across from the island, tracking my movements.

“Not to abuse the word, but okay.”

He chuckled as I took down two plates.

I dished them up, sliding his plate of spaghetti in front of him along with some silverware. “Wine or beer?”

“Beer would be fantastic.”

I grabbed two out of the fridge, pouring them into glasses before sliding him his. The last item was the garlic bread from the oven.

“You put all this together for yourself?”

I slid into the other stool beside him, trying to act as if this wasn’t weird. And that I wasn’t reading anything into him coming over. “Yeah.”

He made a little hum once he took his first bite. “God, this tastes good. So, about your interview later this week.”

Holy abrupt subject change. I shook my head. I couldn’t do it. Not while I’d been looking forward to this meal all day. “Nope. No work talk until after eating. Frankly, I’m on overload after today. Plus, whenever either of us mentions the impending interviews or sale, we end up ruining the moment. Right now, I want to eat, drink, and definitely not talk about the job. You think you can do that?”

“But it’s good news about the interview.”

I reached over and snagged his garlic bread. I might be laid-back in general, but I was dead serious about being burned out on work. Not only was it consuming my professional life lately, but it had also bled into my personal life.

His brows shot up. “Hey. What was that about?”

“Every time you bring up work, you forfeit something. Next time it’ll be your fork.”

A sheepish grin tugged at his lips. “Don’t I get a warning before my punishment?”

My lips twitched. “Mm. I suppose I can give you one second chance.”

He swiped the bread back before I could rethink it. “Thank you. How was your weekend?”

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