Acts of Desperation(31)
“What’s this?” I asked.
He stood, grinning at me. “I may have bent the truth a bit, hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to surprise you.”
I kept looking around the wide open space and stood in awe looking to the rich walnut floors and a newly renovated kitchen with simple cabinets that complimented the flooring. It had top of the line stainless steel appliances, and black granite countertops. The whole place was immaculate, modern, and simply decorated. But what caught my eye most was a huge wall of windows next to the dining room that lent a beautiful view of the city.
“I don’t mind at all. This place is fantastic,” I said.
“Thanks. I wanted it to be perfect for the first time you came over. I hired a chef to cook us dinner, and I specified your love of mushrooms. So, if you’re hungry, we should eat while the food is still hot.”
I walked over to the table and saw two steaks, seared to perfection, a large Caesar salad, a bowl of sautéed wild mushrooms, and loaded baked potatoes.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, this looks delicious,” I said, trying not to drool.
“Then sit down,” he said. “Here, let me take this.” He lifted my purse off my shoulder and put it on a table at end of the long hallway we passed on the way in that led to the front door. I took my seat and gazed out at the city scape.
When he sat down, he poured the wine. I swirled it around in my glass and inhaled the bouquet. It was a deep, rich red and had the distinct earthy bouquet of Bordeaux. My first sip confirmed my suspicion. Jax divvied up the salad then I dove in to the rest. The aged steaks had a crisp crust, and when I bit down through the tender meat, it practically melted in my mouth. The potatoes were soft and warm and had my favorite mix of rich sour cream, sharp cheddar cheese, crunchy bacon, and scallions; it was gooey perfection. I devoured all that I could of the buttery herb mushrooms, but finally had to stop before I made myself sick. Whoever he’d hired was a master at what they did.
“That was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” I said, wiping my mouth.
“Glad you liked it,” he said. “Why don’t l take your plate, and we can move on to dessert.”
“No, you sit. I’ll get these out of the way, but I don’t think I could eat another bite right now. I need to wait on dessert.” I stood and grabbed his plate and walked around the island to the sink.
He came up behind me and set our wine glasses on the counter then wrapped his hands around my waist. “Just leave those, I’ll get them later. The dessert’s in the fridge, so whenever you’re ready, let me know.” He leaned in and kissed my neck then I heard a buzzing sound. “Is that you?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Yes, sorry. It’s Bernie. I need to take this.”
“That’s ok. Go ahead.”
“Have a look around if you’d like.” He walked into his office just off the living room and shut the door. I went into the living room and noticed a small bookshelf in a little nook next to the fireplace that held a modest collection of books. I tilted my head to read the titles. There were the standard books that you’d expect every lawyer to have: Tort Law, Civil Law, and The Life of Pi—don’t ask about the last one, but we all have it. He seemed to be a big fan of Nelson DeMille. There were at least seven of his books. Oddly enough, my dad was a huge fan as well. I found myself smiling, imagining the conversation the two could strike up about Up Country, one of my dad’s favorites. Jax hadn’t met my family yet, but I bet that would get him in good graces with my dad.
I noticed a few other hand carved knickknacks and interesting bookends, but then my eyes were drawn to a more weathered book shoved in between two larger books at one end. It was too worn to read the title from the spine so I tugged on it. It was The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath, an interesting book choice for a man. I flipped through the tattered, dog-eared pages, and saw notes scribbled in the margins in a woman’s handwriting. I closed it up to put it back, but a picture fell out. I picked it up off the floor and a girl’s face stared back at me. Whoever she was, she couldn’t have been more than twenty years old and had somewhat full lips and a pretty smile. There was something familiar about her, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. She had long brown hair, very similar to mine, and her light brown eyes, there was something about them, too.
“Sorry that took so long. Bernie’s working on something for me.” I turned and looked at him, and I’m guessing my expression said it all. “What are you looking at?”
“Who’s this?” I asked.
He ran his hand through his hair and laughed. “Oh, where’d you find that? I didn’t…she’s just someone I knew in college.” He took the picture from my hand, shoved it back in the book and returned it to the shelf. “I still need to show you your other surprise.”
“Wait…what?” I said as he grabbed my hand.
“Come on.” He led me to the couch. “Do you want some more wine?”
“No, I’m fine for now. Who—?”
“Ok, then have a seat. I’ll grab us some water.” He went into the kitchen and filled two glasses. When he came back, he sat down next to me. With a couple punches of some buttons the music stopped, and the giant flat-screen TV mounted on the wall above the fireplace powered up. He pressed play, and once I heard the music, I started laughing.