Page 97 of Billionaire Temptations

“Is dinner ready?” Alex asked.

“Yes. I just have to plate it. Why don’t the two of you go sit in the living room and have a drink? I’ll call you when dinner is served. All I need is a few minutes,” I spoke in a panic.

“There are two glasses of wine right there,” Alex said as he reached for a glass.

“No!” I voiced as I took both glasses from the counter. “I mean, these are for dinner and must only be drunk with your meal. It’s all about the pairing, Alex.”

He gave me a strange look. A look that told me he knew I was up to something. But I didn’t care. My only concern was getting the candles and rose petals off the table.

“Go on.” I smiled as I waved my hands. “Go enjoy a pre-dinner drink.”

He continued to stare at me as he led Greyson to the living room. When they were out of sight, I ran to the dining room, blew out the candles, grabbed them, and scooped up the rose petals, tossing them into the trash and hiding the candles in the cabinet. As I was plating their dinner, Alex and Greyson walked into the dining room and took a seat.

“Tonight’s dinner is chicken scallopini with a shitake sake sauce over udon noodle cakes, steamed broccoli, and homemade dinner rolls paired with a chardonnay.” I smiled as I set down their plates in front of them.

“It smells like candles were blown out in here,” Alex spoke as he raised his brow at me. He leaned over his chair and picked up a single rose petal that must have fallen from my hands. “What’s this?”

“It looks like a rose petal.”

“I know what it looks like, Emerson. Where did it come from?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you have roses around here somewhere?”

“No.”

“Weird.”

As I turned and began to walk away, Greyson called my name.

“Emerson, why don’t you join us for dinner?”

“Thank you. But I have to clean up, and I’ve already eaten.”

“Alex, tell your chef that she is required to join us.”

I watched as Alex gave Greyson an odd look.

“Emerson, go get yourself a plate and sit down and join us for dinner,” he spoke authoritatively.

Flashing a fake smile, I went to the kitchen, made myself a plate, and sat down across from Alex.

“This chicken is amazing. May I ask where you learned to cook like this?” Greyson asked.

“I studied in Tuscany.”

Alex’s eyes focused on me when I said that.

“Under whom?” Greyson asked.

“Under Mario Ricci and his wife, Vanessa.”

“Interesting,” Alex spoke as he glared at me.

“Tuscany is a beautiful place. How long were you there?” Greyson continued with his questions.

“A little over six months.”

“Well, this is extremely delicious, and I must say I’ve never had udon noodle cakes before, but it’s quickly becoming one of my favorites.”

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