Page 70 of Insufferable Boss

And so, the tour took a little while, and although I didn't have much commentary to give on it, I had to appreciate just how suited the place was to her. It was oh so calming and warm, which made me want to stay here with her. Soon, we arrived at the main living room and back to the kitchen, and we both turned to appreciate the space—the white walls and beige accents, the dark wood and greenery.

"There's still a lot of work to do," she said. "But it's livable."

This amused me as I headed back to the island counter stool.

"My interior designer told me my place was ready two months after I considered it ready."

"What do you mean?" she said as she headed over to some foil plates by the counter and began to pop them into the microwave.

"I mean when I saw it, I was sure it was done, but it was only two months later that she agreed with me enough to let me move in. I knew she wanted to keep making changes, and I didn't want to constantly have her come in, so I just told her to tell me exactly when it would be done, and only then would I bother moving in."

At my words, she stopped with a spoon in hand, and then she turned around to face me, her eyes narrowed.

"What?" I asked.

She watched me as though in disbelief about something, and then she shook her head and returned her attention to the pan she retrieved and placed on top of the stove.

"I find it hard to believe that you didn't know the real reason why she was dragging on with completing the house and insisting that you move in, even though she would have to keep working on it for a bit more."

This was a mouthful, but I managed to get the gist of what she was saying.

"You're saying she did it to find a way to spend some time with me."

"I didn't invite you to dinner because I could cook," she said, and I laughed, but then something crucial occurred to me.

"Wait, you don't know how to cook?" I asked as I watched her put a cut of steak in the pan.

"Not really," she said, and I shut my eyes.

"Am I in danger of food poisoning?"

"Maybe," she said as she glanced back so gorgeously at me. "But given the evening in exchange, wouldn't it be worth it?"

"Nothing is worth food poisoning," I replied, and she laughed even harder.

I watched her as she cooked, and then I moved over to the corner because I found that I wanted to be close to her, even though I would just be standing there... watching, since I sure as hell couldn't cook.

I watched as she seared the steak in butter, and pretty soon, the scent was surrounding the entire kitchen.

"You plan to stay in New York for a long time?" I asked as I watched what she was doing, and then I lifted my gaze to watch her.

"Who knows?" she said. "Given this apartment, though, I think I can say that I'm down for staying a little while."

I nodded in response, and this, I had to admit, was certainly pleasing.

"What about you?" she asked. "Do you plan to stay in New York forever?"

This, I realized, was not a subject that I had ever given much consideration to. However, since she was asking, I went over to the counter to grab her glass and mine, and then handed it over to her.

"Yeah," I replied. "I think so. I love the city. It has its severe flaws, but because of my wealth, I can rise above it. And I travel all the time. I've been to so many countries, but not once did I ever think that I wanted to leave. I always wanted to return."

She nods in response.

"I understand. The only country I've ever felt that way about was England, the city of London specifically, but that was when I visited many years earlier. I got a job there after college, and against my dad's wishes, I headed over. But then, in three months, I was lonely. Turns out, it can be quite difficult for me to make friends, plus my fascination with the city got old. So, I went back to LA."

"Were you close to your father?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"No, we clashed all the time about everything. That's why I went to college in LA. Yet, I called him all the time. Our relationship was best from a distance. What about you?" she asked, and I leaned against the counter as I thought about my own father.

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