Page 17 of Journey to You

He nodded and lowered his hand, and she clamped down on the surge of disappointment. “I sure am. My business is done. The chef signed the contract in front of me.”

He pulled out her chair in a characteristic chivalrous gesture she loved. If Richard had ever done it, he’d plonk his selfish ass in it before she could move.

“He’s one of India’s best, and considering my other choice, a chef in Delhi wouldn’t budge, it’s a coup getting this guy onboard. I can’t wait for him to start atAmbrosia.”

She sat and smiled her thanks. “If you can’t wait, neither can I. I’ll get to sample his chickenMakhani, crab curry, and sweet potatokheer for free, all in the name of work.”

He chuckled, sat opposite her, and flicked out his pristine white linen napkin before laying it in his lap. “It’s a hard life but somebody’s got to do it, right?”

“Right.”

He smiled and hope cradled her heart, warming it, melting the band of anguish circling it. This was one of the moments she’d grown to want yet fear, a poignant moment filled with closeness and intimacy. A moment that labelled her a fool for thinking she could test her flirting prowess on Ethan and come out unscathed—or worse, wanting more.

He broke the spell by picking up the menu, and scanning it. “Let me guess. You’ve already studied this in great depth and have your trusty notebook at the ready.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and shot him a snooty stare that lost some of its impact when her lips twitched. “My trusty notebook is safe in my bag.”

He raised an eyebrow and sent a pointed look at her favourite patent leather black handbag hanging off the back of her chair. “Not taking any notes today?”

“Not one.”

The corners of his mouth kicked up into the deliciously gorgeous smile that had launched her crazy new awareness in the first place. “Maybe you’re starting to enjoy my company after all?”

“Maybe.” She picked up a menu and ducked behind it to hide a blush.

“Want to know what I think?” He leaned forward and lowered her menu with his finger, his grin wide.

“You’re going to tell me anyway, so go ahead.”

“I think that notebook of yours is like Bankie.”

“Bankie?”

“The security blanket I had when I was a toddler. I couldn’t say blanket, so called it Bankie. A frayed, worn, faded blue thing that went everywhere I did.”

She imagined how utterly adorable he would’ve been as a wide-eyed two year old clinging to his blanket. He’d never spoken of his family but she assumed he had one tucked away somewhere; probably parents who doted on their wonderful son, and a proud sibling or two.

“Why do you think I need a security blanket?”

“Because of what’s happening between us.”

Her heart stilled. She didn’t want to have this conversation, not here, not now, not ever.

Damn it, until now she could’ve dismissed the awareness between them as a figment of her imagination.

Now he’d brought it up, and made it real. A tangible thing between them. Larger than life and more terrifying than anything she could’ve possibly imagined.

She could ignore it, try and bluff her way out of it. But this was Ethan. The guy who’d stood by her during the rigmarole after Richard’s funeral, the guy who’d given her a chance at getting her career back on track.

She owed him her thanks, if not the truth.

“What do you think is happening between us?” She asked, eyeballing him.

He paused, shifting his plate and cutlery around, before intertwining his fingers and laying his hands on the table and leaning forward.

“Honestly? I like you.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward, leaving her no option but to lean closer too. “I like that you’ve changed since we’ve arrived here.”

This, she could handle. She could fob him off with the real reason behind her change: her journey of self-discovery, her awakening to being her own person, her enjoyment of answering to no one but herself. All perfectly legitimate reasons to satisfy his curiosity and hide the real reason behind her change.

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