Page 136 of Good as Gold
Matteo gives me a sly, victorious smile. Then he eases out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“Did you see that perfect dismount?” he whispers.
“You are so hot to me right now.”
He grabs me around the waist and steers me toward the kitchen. “Tell me everything. How’d the doctor’s visit go? You were gone a while, so I got worried.”
“Oh! Everything is fine. They’re just slow.” I open the refrigerator and survey the new groceries. “Steaks? Weren’t we having burgers?”
“The steaks looked good. And I’m making that salad you like with gorgonzola and pecans.”
My mouth waters. Even so, I think I’ll volunteer to do the grocery shopping next time. Matteo spends more than I would.
I pour us each a glass of iced tea, and then notice the grocery receipt, which is still on the counter. He’s bought all sorts of things I like, including a bottle of wine.
But the total makes my eyes water. “Ouch,” I whisper.
“Ouch?” he says, taking a sip of tea. “What’s the matter?”
I hesitate, because I don’t want to criticize him for feeding me. But I’m a little worried about our lifestyle. Two people who aren’t currently employed shouldn’t be buying imported cheese.
“Leila, what’s wrong? Did I forget something we needed?”
I shake my head. “I’m really indebted to you for all the cooking you’re doing. But I think we should spend a little less until I pay off my health-plan deductible.”
Giving birth costs a fortune, and my insurance isn’t that great.
His brown eyes widen. “You’re worried about money?”
“Not worried,” I backpedal, because this is an unfortunately familiar conversation. I spent years trying not to fight about money with Rory. “Just cautious.”
“It’s covered, baby.” He taps the receipt. “This is on me.”
“But I want to pay my share,” I say carefully. “I’m really enjoying all the help at home. I’d rather eat burgers than end up in a spot where one of us is suddenly looking for extra work.”
“You’re worried because I don’t have a job,” he says flatly.
Now I’m really on shaky ground. “Well, it must be expensive to uproot your life, pay off your mortgage, and all that stuff.”
He puts his elbows on the counter and looks up at me. “Honey, you should know that I’ll clear a chunk of money selling my condo. And even more on the business. I’ll have more than a million in the bank when those transactions close.”
“A…million?”
He circles the counter and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Please understand—I would not be buying steaks if I couldn’t afford to. That’s not how I roll.”
“Wow,” I say softly. “I just had no idea your business was worth that much.”
“You know how I got all that money?”
“Hard work?” I guess.
“Nah.” He chuckles. “Lucky real estate choices. The business that Sean and Cara and I built was hard work, and I’m proud of it. But the value of our helipad and our permits were the bulk of the profit. Same story with my apartment. Mostly luck and timing, plus a few good decisions.”
“Oh. Wow.”
He kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t be too impressed. My timing withyouwas pretty terrible. Poor communication. Sketchy decisions…”
“Until now,” I argue.
