Page 121 of Boss of the Year
Nausea gripped my gut, the taste of the lie acrid on my tongue.
“Aren’t you?”
We stood there, holding each other on the sidewalk while London moved around us. I could feel the steady beat of his heart, inhale his familiar scent, and for the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe properly.
“I won’t leave you again,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want.”
What did that even mean?
That he wouldn’t leave me after we did…whatever else we might do? That he wouldn’t leave me to do his job?
Was he talking as my employer? As someone who cared about my well-being? As my lover?
Could I even call him that at this point?
Now my head was truly swimming.
It meant nothing, that nasty little voice in my head remembered.He told you himself.
I sighed and mentally pushed her away, then untangled myself from Lucas’s embrace and stepped back.
“Have you eaten?” I asked.
He blinked, clearly not expecting the change of subject. “What?”
“Dinner. Have you had dinner?” I managed a small smile. “Because Xavier is literally a world-celebrated chef, so it’s guaranteed to be good. If you’re interested.”
Panic and softness decorated his chiseled features. “You want me to have dinner with you and your family?”
I shrugged. “You can do what you want. But I’m going up, and you’re welcome to come. Or not. It’s up to you.”
“What doyouwant, Marie?” His dark eyes were searching. Knowing.
I couldn’t quite meet them.
“Right now, I want dinner. After we eat…we can talk some more.”
The flat wasfull of familial chaos when the elevator doors opened to let us in.
Sofia was sprawled on the rug with what looked like an entire art supply store spread around her while baby Lucy was back in her highchair, happily smearing mashed banana across every available surface. Clara, the nanny, was folding a giant pile of laundry. Meanwhile, Xavier and Frankie were bickering in the kitchen over what to feed everyone for dinner.
“Xavi, be reasonable. The girls are not going to eat squid.”
“It’s squid inkpasta, Ces.” Xavier set bundles of long black noodles onto the cutting board. “With only a little bit of actual squid. And I’ll fry it like a garnish. Ah, Marie. Good, another civilized palate has arrived. Tell me you’re on my side here.”
I shrugged. “It’s just a color, Frankie. It adds a slight umami flavor that’s really tasty too.”
“I’ve had it,” Lucas added. “I liked it, although I’m allergic.”
I glanced at him. “Is squid a shellfish?”
He shrugged. “It makes my mouth itch.”
Frankie turned on him. “Don’t tell meyoualso eat like tasting menus are a personality trait.”
Lucas, looking slightly overwhelmed, just shrugged again. “I eat whatever your sister makes for me. If she says it’s good, I believe her.”
“That just means you like her.” Frankie spun back to her husband. “It’s basically the same thing as ‘happy wife, happy life,’ Xavi. Haven’t you ever heard that saying?”
