Page 23 of Down the Aisle
With a deadpan expression, she crossed her arms and glared at me sternly. "No funny business or I will kill you." That was one threat I'd be taking seriously.
Never mess with a mother, especially when it comes to her children. As harmless as she seemed, I had no doubt about her removing me from the land of the living with ease if I were to harm a hair on Asher's head—not that I ever would.
Eliza's wary eyes constantly bounced between me and her food as she dug in after she sat down. I didn't take any offense to it; at the end of the day, I was still mostly a stranger to her. All I could do was take careful steps around her and work my way into her life until I had her heart in my grasp.
While she ate, I took the liberty to change Asher's diaper and clothes before I settled him in his highchair, scooting it close to Eliza. Once the little guy was comfortable, I went back over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Some fluffy scrambled eggswith some cheese and fruits sound okay for him to have?" I asked, craning my neck back to look at her with a raised brow.
Her lips twisted in a struggle as if she wanted to say something but held it back. The slight frown on her face gave her discomfort away so easily, and I couldn't help but furrow my own eyebrows in concern as I tried to read her deeper. What was she bothered about? Me making food for Asher? I mean, it was a silly thing to be upset over, but maybe I stepped on her toes a bit by snatching her motherly duties out of her hands.
Turning my body around, I closed the fridge and softly frowned, "Eliza? What's bothering you?" I kept my voice soft and tried my best not to sound accusatory or irked at her. "This is your home, so please, don't hold back whatever is on your mind."
Setting her fork down with a sigh, I watched her look at me with somewhat apologetic eyes. "It's not that I'm ungrateful for this, as weird as it is, but I just…" Her face twisted as she stammered and struggled to find the right words.
Closing her mouth, she cleared her throat before speaking again, "You don't have to do all of this. You really don't have to put so much energy and effort into this. I don't want you to get upset if, for some reason, things don't work out." Her voice slowly trailed off, until she mumbled to herself.
Toning down my eagerness, I relaxed my shoulders and approached her side, then knelt down. Naturally, my lips spread into a reassuring smile as I looked up at her. I only broke my gaze with her nervous eyes for a split second to take her hands in mine and comfort her.
"Mia rosa, if you reject me twenty-seven days from now, then I will take that defeat with pride and be forever grateful for the time you chose to give me." I sweetened her with assuring words while stroking her hands. "A deal's a deal, and I'm no sore loser," I told her, confident she wouldn’t end this between us."You should never feel like you owe it to anyone, not even me, for their efforts put toward courting you. When we put ourselves into the dating ring, then we always have to be prepared for either outcome."
It was unfortunate, but that's how the game worked. Not every race would be a victory, something I've accepted with every aspect of my life. Well, until now. Even if I was buttering Eliza up with my words, I didn't fully mean them. I would have her no matter what; it was up to her whether it would be easy or hard.
"If someone chooses to chase after you, then that's on them." Steeling my eyes, I gave her a stern gaze. "And don't you ever let anyone make you feel guilty about it. You don't ever let them gaslight you into giving your time and energy in return just because they put out."
Cracking a smile, Eliza briefly took her hand from me to reach out and gingerly stroke my hair. "You're not a shrink, are you?" she asked half-jokingly with a nervous chuckle.
Chuckling along with her, I shook my head in response. "No, but I did think about it in college." Honestly, I did, but I found it a little boring and tedious to listen to other people's problems all day.
Her cheerful sounds died out to a face full of curiosity. "What do you do then? For work, I mean."
Smiling, I brought her hands up and kissed them before standing. "I'm a businessman," I told her as I walked back to the kitchen. "I own a string of clubs in Portland, along with a financial firm. I'm pretty hands-off now in my career, hence why I'm able to be here in Seaside and not in the city."
I wasn't lying to her, technically. I was a legit businessman with a business degree. I just omitted the part about my businesses being tied to the mafia, that's all. I mean, tiny nuances, not like they mattered. It was something she didn’tstrictlyneedto know. I didn't dohorrendousthings, just some drug selling, money laundering, loan-sharking, gambling, and maybe some prostitution here and there—all voluntary of course, maybe some mild coercion when necessary. It wasn't like I trafficked humans or did anything untoward to the elderly or minors.
Smirking, I gave myself a little ego boost, "I have supervisors and managers overseeing everything while I reap the rewards from the comfort of my own home."
As I busied myself with making some food for Asher, I heard a scoff and a dry chuckle. "If you're trying to see if I'm a gold digger, then you can stop waving the stack of cash." She sounded a little offended, but I couldn't tell for sure because I wasn't facing her.
"Eliza, I'm not that kind of asshole, and I know you're not one," I replied, chuckling and rolling my eyes. "You're a good person, little rose, and don't argue because I'm good at reading people. Even if I wasn’t, every interaction we’ve had involving money so far has shown me you’re not." I was extremely good at reading people." In my line of work, I had learned hard and fast how to hone that particular skill-set. It came early in my career, after being too soft-hearted caused me to be duped into believing one too many sob stories, only to later find the culprits with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar. Thankfully, I hadn’t been played enough to lose territory or business, which is how I became a mafia head.
While plating Asher's food, I changed the subject. "What do you want for lunch and dinner later?" Pulling a chair next to Asher's, I situated myself and presented the small plate of food to the toddler, who responded with a happy scream and clap of his hands.
My eyes glanced over to Eliza, watching her chew her fork for a moment before replying, "Uhh, I'll just bring myself asandwich for lunch, and you don't have to worry about dinner or anything, I'll be okay to feed myself."
Yeah, no, not on my watch.
Rejecting her words, I shook my head. "Nope, I am going to be your personal chef for the next twenty-seven days, so too bad," I jabbed with a cheeky chuckle and grin. "Either you give me an answer, or I will make something random."
Grumbling, she narrowed her eyes at me for a minute before rolling them. For a moment, I thought I'd won until she made one last ditch effort. "W-well what if I want a sandwich for lunch?" It was a shaky retort, making me roll my eyes back at her and chuckle in response. "What if I want a simple ham sandwich? Hm?"
Little smartass.
Too bad I was smarter.
Smirking, I leaned my elbow onto the edge of the table, propping my cheek against my fist. "Then I'll make the best ham sandwich for you, jammed packed with the best ham ever made to mankind." Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch, but I had to exaggerate for effect. "I'll use the best condiments, and I'll pack you the best fruits and vegetables, the freshest of the fresh." Alright, I was being over the top.
Groaning in defeat, Eliza threw her head back and arms up. "I'm not winning with you," she admitted begrudgingly, glaring at me playfully before going back to finish her breakfast with a rather satisfied smile.
Even though the morning so far had been going swimmingly, her sense of unease crept through the air like a steady annoyance to me. Unfortunately, as irked as it made me, I couldn't blame her for it.
