Page 38 of The Billionaire's Fortunate Accident
“Kosher?”
“I use nothing else.”
The bag he’d left with the driver suddenly came back to mind as I recalled the food samples I’d eaten at the hospital. “Stone, where are you sending that bag you left with the driver? And what was in it?”
His lips pulled up only halfway as he cocked one brow. “I’ve got some exciting news. I’m going to open my first bistro in the hospital you’re working in.”
“The bag had trays of food in it, didn’t it?” I knew it did.
“Yes, it did. I sent it to my brother Cohen’s house. His wife, Ember, and their daughter, Madison, have been taking it to the hospital early each morning to put it out at the nurse’s stations and the doctor’s lounge. I’ve been getting their feedback, and so far, it’s mostly been great. My menu is just about complete.”
“I had a feeling that it was your food.” I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. “I was about to leave my review on the website, but I got worried that it might not be you, and I might be giving your competitor more praise than I should.”
“It’s me. I’ve been working day and night on recipes, and it’s been nice having people giving me ideas of what to call everything. You don’t have to go to the website. You can just tell me what you think.” He leaned over the bar, running his fingers over the back of my hand. “I think it’s cool that you knew it was my food just by tasting it. We’ve got a rather good connection, you and I.”
Ducking my head, I wore a shy smile. “You think?”
“I do.” He dropped the fillets into the hot pan, where they sizzled loudly. “Two minutes on each side, including all the way around their sides, and then I’ll pop them into the oven for ten minutes. Unless you want yours well done.”
“I’ll take it the way you like to cook it. I trust your judgment.” I was beginning to trust him more than I’d ever trusted anyone. “I’ve said I was sorry for the things I said to you, but I really am. I mean, I’d pegged you as a bratty rich guy, and that was extremely wrong of me. You’re not bratty or spoiled in the least. I can’t stop kicking myself for even thinking that or saying a thing to you about it.”
“Just stop kicking yourself already. I’m fine. I’m not used to people not automatically knowing that I’ve got money now. Ever since we came to Austin from Houston, where we grew up, everyone around this city has known us as the rich guys who built a resort. I just assumed you knew who I was when I told you my name. And if you didn’t know at that exact moment, people usually Google someone they’ve just met and get the scoop on them.”
“Guess I was a little too busy to do any Goggling. At least not until one of the doctors at the hospital told me about you being a billionaire who was on the cover of Texas Monthly.” I still felt ashamed of myself for judging Stone so harshly. “If I could take that back, I certainly would.”
“I know you would.” He topped off the wine in my glass. “Have as much as you want. I’m having a driver come to take you home too.”
Sipping on the wine, I felt taken care of. Most of the times that I’d begun to feel that way with a man, I would find myself easing away from him. I didn’t want to be taken care of. But the way Stone was doing it didn’t bother me at all. “Thanks. I will enjoy myself with you this evening.”
He glanced at my unopened computer. “How much work do you have to get done?”
“I’ve got about another hour to go.” I didn’t want to get to the work at all. I wanted to sit there, talking to Stone, sipping at the wine, and feeling like someone who didn’t work an eighty-hour week. “I’ll do it after we eat. I’m actually loving watching you cook.”
“Then please, keep watching.” He used the tongs expertly to turn the meat until both pieces were evenly seared. “Gorgeous, huh?”
He was talking about the color of the meat, but I was talking about him. “Yes, gorgeous.” I took another sip, licking the slightly salty drink off my lips. “I’m glad I had time to shower before I came over. It’s been a while since I groomed myself. Glad I took the time to clean myself up for tonight.”
“You look lovely. But you always look lovely to me.” Pulling the skillet off the stovetop, he popped it into the oven built into the wall. “Can I tell you something?” He leaned on the bar in front of me, his fingers intertwined as he looked into my eyes.
“I suppose so.” My stomach stirred a little as I became nervous that he was going to ask me about myself — like what kind of family I came from or something. And I did not want to tell him about that aspect of myself at all.
“I remember each kiss on the cheek that you gave me, and I gave you. I remember the way your skin felt on my lips. I remember the way you smelled.”
“Oh, no.” I blushed. “God, Stone, I must've smelled awful all those times. If it wasn’t hamburger grease, it was probably floor cleaner. That hospital always reeks of it.” I was glad I’d spritzed myself with a little sweetly scented body spray. At least his memory of my smell on our first date wouldn’t horrify me.
“It was lemon scent, and I adored it.”
“Floor cleaner,” I muttered, then took another drink. “And you always smell like a million bucks.Always.”
“Thanks, babe.” He turned and went to the fridge, then returned with a stick of butter. “For the steaks. Once they’ve cooked, I slather butter on top of them. It makes them even juicer, and when you cut into the meat, releasing the juices, they mix with the butter, making the best dipping sauce. I hate steak sauce. Won’t even serve it.”
“That’s because you’re a true chef. And I am proud that I know you, Chef Nash.” I held up my wine glass. “Cheers to you.”
“Nah.” He waved his hand in front of his face as if I’d embarrassed him. “I’ve never liked being called Chef Nash. It sounds pretentious.”
“It’s an honor to be called something like that, Stone. You’re wonderful at what you do. Accept the title you’ve earned.” I held my glass up again. “Here’s to Chef Nash, the best cook in the entire world.”
“You’re biased because I’ve fed you for free.” He laughed as he turned away from me to get the steaks out of the oven.
