Page 62 of Broken Deal

He throws his head back with laughter, but the way his neck stretches and his Adam’s apple bobs distracts me completely. “I was wondering when you were going to quoteClueless.”

“Damn it.” I slap myself on the thigh. “You’re so good at catching these. I hate this game.”

He shrugs as he tosses the meat into the pot. “Iamgood,” he confirms. “And I’ll play the game?—”

“Let me guess…under one condition,” I try to mimic his voice as I roll my eyes.

He squints at me. “We’ve been spending too much time together, that’s the only reason you guessed it.”

“Maybe you’re just predictable.” I shrug, crossing my legs and taking another sip of wine.

“I’m having a good time…not,” he murmurs under his breath while putting the broth in the pot, waiting for it to bubble.

“Wayne’s World. That was too easy.Score! You suck,” I reply, pointing my finger at him. There’s no way he’ll catch this reference.

“That’s fromFriends. Monica Geller said it, if I remember correctly,” he says, scrubbing his jawline while pondering.

“Damn it,” I mutter. “Youdosuck.”

His eyes find mine, and we stare at each other for a beat before breaking into a true, genuinely smile.Something that has been happening more often than not around him.

“And to answer your question,” he sighs, “ever since I was a kid.” He ponders as he takes the towel to clean his hands and drops it on his shoulder before crossing his arms. “I was so lonely, I wanted something to fill the little free time I had. Cooking became an escape, and eventually, my true passion.”

The rawness in his voice and the way his body language turns tense, more serious, takes me by surprise. If he’s loved this for so long, why deny it? That’s the question nagging at me the most.

I hop off the counter and stand in front of him, tilting my head as I study him. “So why do you hide it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t hide it, I just don’t tell the world. There’s a difference.”

“No.” I shake my head assertively. “You hide it. You hide behind this.” I flap my hand around, trying to find the words. “Behind this playboy, doesn’t take anything seriously, famous billionaire persona. The gambling. The partying. Do you even enjoy any of that?”

“Careful, that’s your third question,” he warns playfully. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I haven’t even told you my condition.”

“Do not give me that shit right now,” I snap. “For once, stop playing your games.”

He frowns and turns around without a word, reducing the heat and covering the pot.

I cross my arms and start tapping my foot against the cold, tiled floor. “Well?” I refuse to feel bad because of my tone. For once, I want him to take it seriously.

He turns around abruptly. “Cooking is more than my passion. It’s the only thing that gives me any peace,” hesnaps, scrubbing his face with a weary sigh. “I’m exhausted, Blue. Tired of the lifestyle, the business, the suits. We’ve stayed in Panamá so long because—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “That part doesn’t matter. But part of the reason is, I’d rather be here, getting the restaurant up and running. I’d rather be here, creating and cooking, than stuck back in Chicago wasting my days drinking, partying, gambling—doing whatever I have to do just to stand the thought of being trapped in this life.” His words tumble out so fast he’s almost breathless by the end. When he finally takes a breath, his shoulders relax slightly.

I’m at a loss for words. This is…not what I expected. Here I thought Lorenzo was simply a reckless man, living on the edge because he could afford to. But he’s trying to escape his life, to have some sense of control, even though he knows damn well he’s stuck. And to an extent, I understand what he means. People may think,well, if you’re sick of it, stop doing it. But that’s easier said than done. Sometimes, life gives us responsibilities we can’t get out of.

My hand reaches his face, caressing his jawline. He closes his eyes, his breath hitching at my touch as he melts into it.

“That’s terrible, Lorenzo. No one should live like that,” I whisper.

He simply nods with his eyes still closed. As I caress his face, my head races with so many thoughts I can’t keep up with them anymore. Lorenzo is not who I thought he was, and this new revelation tugs at my resolve. Maybe opening myself to him of all people will be my undoing.

It will destroy me.

I can feel it.

This has been, hands down, the best day of my life.

We both lie on the pool deck chairs, admiring the stars. I would sell everything I have and move here to spend the rest of my days like this. Fuck the city. Fuck Vortex. Fuck everything. This right here? The perfect moment, with the perfect woman. I couldn’t ask for anything better.

“It’s safe to say that was the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Sophia says, rising from her chair. “Damn you and your good cooking, Ace.”

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