Page 91 of One Bossy Date
“It looks fucking delicious.”
I moved beside him, my shoulder bumping his. The lasagna had a perfect golden color. The cashew ricotta looked perfectly roasted. “Fantastic. I’m starving.”
We dished for ourselves, periodically bumping into each other (I definitely felt anincrediblysexy bulge at some point) while we moved across the kitchen, grabbing plates, cutlery and glasses. We ate at the dinner table with Ares and Hades lying underneath, warming our toes.
“By the way, my boutique’s business is picking up.”
“Oh, yeah? That’s great.”
“Yeah. I just might be able to pay my gran back one day,” I joked.
Anders smiled, swallowing his food before leaning forward on his strong elbows, his head pushed forward. He had such a perfectly chiseled jaw. “Look, I know you said it’s very important for you to do things on your own, but I hope you know that I would help you in a heartbeat if you needed it.”
My heart warmed at him being so sweet again. But I couldn’t take the help.
“Oh, no. Please. I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re right. I only borrowed money from my gran because she’s family, and I really had no other choice. If I took money from you, it would just be another loan, and I don’t want that.”
“Makes sense.” He nodded and continued eating. I lowered my eyes to my plate and focused on the food, forcing myself to stop looking at him.
“But don’t worry either way. I suddenly feel more confident that things will go well with the shop.”
“I’m really glad about that. What do you think has changed?”
I put my fork down and sat back in thought. “You know…I think it’s mostly word of mouth. And I feel happy these days, I guess the customers can sense that, and so do the animals. I’ve got the hang of it.” I glanced under the table. “Even with these two rascals.”
“Amazing news,” Anders said, rubbing the sleeping Hades with his foot. “You do seem calmer.”
“I am.”
“I’m rubbing off on you, aren’t I?” he said with a cute wink.
“You’d love to think so, I’m sure. But sorry, no.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Okay, okay, you are.”
He gave me a playful “See, I knew it” shrug.
“But it’s all the new customers that are making me confident. I’m not sure where they heard about us, but we’ve had eight new customers over the past week, three of them assuring us they’ll be regulars. For example, Mrs. Loughty. She’s a widow, maybe in her 60s or 70s, originally from Britain. She has a Sphynx, you know, one of those hairless cats? These cats need special skin care, and she entrusts her darling to us. Of course, she repeated about ten or twenty times how careful we have to be with her cat, and she obviously found it difficult to leave him, but after the first day she assured us that she’d be back.” I took another bite of my lasagna.
“Mrs. Loughty, huh?” Anders appeared thoughtful, one of his brows slightly creased. “Sounds like a handful.”
“How about your presentation?” I asked.
He snapped out of his deep thought. “Oh, yeah. I’m glad we got another appointment with Humphries.”
“And Dax? Is he going to be there?”
“He didn’t seem all that enthusiastic, but I think once he’s got something to sink his teeth into, something to run with, he’ll realize he’s having fun.”
“I’m sure of it,” I agreed. “He really did know exactly what to say at the dinner party.”
“And he didn’t even try. That really was him just spitballing.”
“After a few glasses of red, yes.”
“Actually, he’d only had one or two glasses. He doesn’t have a filter, with or without alcohol. But that’s the reason why he’s so authentic. Did you notice how real the whole atmosphere felt as soon as he opened the topic for discussion? Like a bunch of friends sitting together, not a stiff boardroom meeting where everybody hides behind a manufactured façade. He’s pure. Clients feel and trust that—they know he’s not bullshitting them.”
“Yes, it felt candid and fresh. And it turned out great. He proved himself without even trying.”
“Yes, he did.” Anders smiled at me with his beautiful lips. “Zoe, I wanted to thank you for that evening.”