“It still blows my mind a little,” she says. “Cornelius Drake III can cook. You even made eggplant taste good.”

I put down my fork. “Charli, if you want me to stop making dirty jokes, you have to stop serving them up to me like that.”

She laughs and covers her mouth. “Ten bucks says you bought the eggplant just to make that joke.”

“No, ma’am. Eggplant is super healthy. You should have more of it in your diet.” I give her a sleazy wink.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her meal. “So, what’s our plan? Is the lawyer calling at a set time?”

“He’s sending over some papers, and we’re supposed to call him after we receive them.”

“Even if business hours are over? It’s eight o’clock.”

“Yeah. I guess his clients get into trouble at all hours of the day. He’s used to it.”

“And I’ll bet he charges accordingly.”

I smile at her over my dinner plate. “Trust me, he does. But don’t worry about that, Charli. You promised you’d let me handle this.”

“Because I have no choice.” She takes a tiny bite of steak, like maybe she’s trying to make it last longer. “But my experience with men who say, ‘Trust me, Charli,’ has not been great.”

“I’m here to break your streak,” I insist. “I’m going to make this right.”

“Okay,” she says warily.

It’s time to bring out the big guns. “There’s chocolate cheesecake for dessert.”

She puts her chin in her hand and lifts those green eyes to mine. “Thank you for dinner, Neil.”

“You’re welcome, doll.” I give her a wink.

“Still can’t call me that,” she grumbles.

“Not even while we’re married?”

She scrapes the last of the cheesy cauliflower off her plate and eats it. “Not even then.”

But she’s smiling when she says it.

SEVEN

Skittish Kitten

Charli

After dinner, I insist on tidying up Neil’s kitchen.

I cannot believe he cooked that lovely meal for me. Of all the bonkers things that have gone down in the last twenty-four hours, a steak dinner shouldn’t shock me the most. And yet it does.

When his white casserole dish is clean again, I dry it with a crisp dish towel and put it away in a pristine cabinet. The tiles glisten under warm lighting, and Neil has some music playing on an invisible stereo system.

This place is like a foreign country, where every drawer is tidy and even the bottle of dish soap is pretty. My belly is full of exquisite food, and I feel… almost optimistic.

Which is just crazy. Today was a disaster by any measure. Maybe I’m not as sharp as I thought, though, because a nice meal, a glass of wine, and a pretty kitchen have smoothed all my rough edges.

Apparently, my inner skittish kitten is easily bought off with treats.

Just as I’m closing the dishwasher door, a phone affixed to the wall chimes. Neil answers it, and the concierge tells him that the lawyer’s documents are on the way upstairs.