Page 44 of Crossing Lines

“I wanted to celebrate that we finally have a table, so I had some of my favorite Turkish foodsmade.”

“By a chef? I thought that was only reserved for special occasions?”

“Isn’t finally getting a table worth a special celebration?”

“I guess…” I run a finger along the smooth surface. “It was worth the wait, though.” I wanted a showstopper, and Evren, without knowing that, made sure it happened. When I protested the price, Evren claimed that it’s his thank-you to Stella for allowing him to stay here. Even if that’s true, it doesn’t stop me from feeling like there’s a debt between us.

“It was,” he agrees softly. “Do you want to try some of everything?”

I nod, relieved I don’t have to choose, and he plates up some of everything for me.

“This,” he says, pointing to the yellow-colored soup, “is lentil soup. On the right of your plate iszeytinyagli pirasa,which is leeks, carrots, and rice cooked in oil. Next to it iskarniyarik,which is eggplant stuffed with ground beef, peppers, and tomatoes. And lastly, there is thehünkar begendi,which is lamb stew on a smoky and cheesy eggplant puree.”

I don’t even pay attention to the descriptions because him saying words in Turkish so smoothly? Holy hell. Is it hot in here? The words flow with a melodic rhythm. There’s a softness to them, and yet, at the same time, there is a strength and power that commands attention. I’ve heard him speak Turkish before, but I guess I haven’t paid attention until now.

“Is everything all right?” Evren asks.

I clear my throat and say, “Yes, of course. It all sounds delicious.”

He smiles and says, “Afiyet olsun.”

“What does that mean?”

“Something along the lines ofenjoy your food.”

And enjoy I do. It’s all so different, but amazing. The lentil soup? Never knew I liked them until now. The leeks? Might become my new favorite dish. The eggplant boats are smoky and pair perfectly with the ground meat and tomatoes. But my absolute favorite is the lamb and eggplant puree. It’s so good that I could lick my plate. The meat literally melts in my mouth, and the eggplant puree is better than any mashed potato I’ve ever eaten.

“So…” Evren says. “I have a favor to ask you.”

“Okay?”

“I would like to sincerely ask for your help. I’ve been looking into the team’s women’s apparel line, and something’s wrong, but I can’t figure it out. I’m a numbers guy, not a fashion guy, and I need to get to the bottom of what’s going on because we might only get the sponsorship with Glam Pop by improving it.”

I hold back my immediate no. What he’s asking is different from the franchise deal for the jacket. All he’s asking for is a little advice, something I’d do in a heartbeat for a friend. And I guess we kind of are friends now. Friends who just so happened to have kissed once.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” I ask. “Us working together?”

“Probably not, since I don’t like to mix business and pleasure.”

“Pleasure, huh?”

“Pleasure,” he states firmly, his smirk dripping with trouble and temptation. “But.” He grows serious. “I’m desperate. Please? Can you help? It’ll only be a few minutes of your time.”

Over the past weeks, I’ve come to not hate Evren, which is saying a lot. The truth is, he’s kind, and he did get a custom table. Spending a few minutes helping him wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done.

“Fine,” I say. “Do you have the current offerings with you in the house?”

“Yes, as well as the past five years, but we don’t have to look at it now.”

“I don’t mind,” I say. “I’m curious.”

“In that case, let me get them from my room.”

He pushes away from the table and comes back a moment later. He hands me the catalogs and I flip through them as I eat.

“Yikes,” I say when I finish.

“What is it?”

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