Page 32 of The Perfect Mistake

But there’s a wonderful scent filling the hallway on his floor. It smells like food. Cheese. Bread. Outside the front door of his apartment is a stack of pizza boxes.

“Alec…”

There’s a smile in his voice. “I placed the order from the car.”

“You got us four pizzas?”

“I didn’t know which kind you liked.”

“You could have asked me.”

“You were sleeping,” he says chidingly. But there’s a playfulness to his timbre I haven’t heard before.

I scoop up the warm boxes and follow him into the apartment. Katja is sitting on the couch. She and Alec speak in soft tones while I unbox the pizzas in the kitchen. Pepperoni. Margherita. Veggie. Meat lovers.

I wave goodbye to Katja and grab a slice. It’s warm in my hand, the cheese gooey. Perfect ending to an interesting evening. Across the room, I see Alec heading down one of the corridors. The one that leads to his bedroom.

“Aren’t you having any?” I call out.

He looks over his shoulder at me, and maybe it’s the dimmed lighting or maybe the shadows, but I think he’s smiling again. “Yes,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

My heart is racing as I take another bite of pizza. This whole night has been unexpected and strange, but I’m not quite sure if I’m ready for it to be finished, either.

I grab another slice and head for the large couch in the living room. Katja left the TV on, and I scroll through the streaming service’s offerings, ignoring the hallway that leads to Alec’s room.

I don’t care, I repeat to myself. It doesn’t matter

But he comes back. His ruined button-down is gone, along with my stain, and he’s in a black T-shirt that leaves his muscled arms bare. I listen to him rummage around in the kitchen and decide on a show, almost at random. It’s the last one I’ve watched.

He joins me a minute later with a large plate of pizza in one hand. “Watching that small-town show again?” he asks.

There’s something deeply absurd about this. Sitting on Alec Connovan’s couch after midnight, eating pizza, with Gilmore Girls playing in the background.

With Alec Connovan himself.

He can’t possibly be enjoying himself. But I nod and glance at him. He’s grabbed a slice of each. “There’ll be tons of pizza left over.”

“The kids will love it,” he says and takes a bite. “So. Explain the premise of this show to me again.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t possibly care.”

“I don’t,” he says casually, but there’s a trace of humor in the tone. “But I want to hear you describe it.”

So I do. I eat my pizza and chug an entire bottle of water, and tell the billionaire I nanny for about the intricacies of Stars Hollow. Eventually, he leans against the couch cushions, resting his head on the back edge, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him, and shaking it with a smile. “Do you wish your life was like that? In a small town where nothing bad could ever happen?”

“Sometimes,” I admit. “Even though I’d probably get bored.”

“I wouldn’t last a day,” he says.

I smile at him. “No fires to put out for the big bad CEO?”

His eyebrows rise. “The big bad CEO?”

“Yeah. I stand by that.”

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