She smiled at me. “Thanks, but I want to do it on my own. I had this all planned out when I moved back. Frannie sat down with me, and we sort of mapped out the steps I should take. First, get my blog up and running. Next, start my catering business. Then, once I had traction and a bigger following—and some income—I could write the proposal for the book.”
“That makes sense.”
“I’m still finding my voice, you know?” She pushed her glasses up her nose before sticking her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. “I’m still building confidence in myself and figuring out what I want to say and why people should listen.”
“I have faith in you,” I told her. “You’re smart and creative and intuitive. You’ll find the angle.”
“Thanks.” Her voice grew softer. “I remember when I wanted to drop out of Brown and go to culinary school. Everyone told me I was crazy except you.”
“I wanted you to do what makes you happy.”
“I know. I appreciated that. Most people just brought up the money—didn’t I realize I’d never make a doctor’s salary working in a restaurant?” She mimicked the voices of those who’d doubted her judgment.
“Money isn’t everything.”
“I agree.” She dropped her eyes to the counter. “Um, that thing you said. About New York?”
“Sorry about that.” I frowned. “As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized I probably should have asked you first.”
“Hutton.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Stop apologizing to me. You never have to worry that I’ll take things like that the wrong way.”
“Does that mean you want to go?”
A smile lit up her face as she rose up on her toes. “Of course I do!” Then she dropped back onto her heels, her expression worried. “But not to buy a ring, right? Just for fun.”
“Don’t you think we should get you a ring? Everyone keeps asking.”
“Okay, but not a Tiffany ring. Something fake and cheap.” She placed her palms on the marble island and gave me a serious look. “I mean it, Hutton. No expensive ring.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s unnecessary. Let’s just buy a decoy, okay? An imitation diamond for our imitation engagement. That’s all we need.” She shook her head. “Don’t waste your money.”
I didn’t see it as a waste of money if it would make her happy, but I knew I wasn’t going to win that argument—not tonight anyway. “Okay.”
She looked relieved. “Thank you.”
“Does the trip work with your schedule?”
“Well, I’m on the schedule at Etoile Tuesday through Thursday, but not in the kitchen. I have to man the booth at the Cherry Festival. And I’d say I could get someone to cover for me, but there’s something kind of crazy going down Tuesday night that I can’t miss.”
“What is it?”
A mischievous smile appeared on her face. “It’s a proposal. Etoile’s head chef, Gianni, is going to propose to his girlfriend, Ellie Fournier. She’s the daughter of the Abelard owners. But you can’t tell anyone.”
I laughed. “Who would I tell?”
“Anyway, I can’t miss it. I think I’m the only other person that knows what’s going to happen and when, and I promised Gianni I’d be there to make sure Ellie is where she’s supposed to be at the right time.” She thought for a second. “But I might be able to get someone to cover for me Wednesday and Thursday.”
“Okay. You let me know.”
“I’ll ask Gianni tomorrow, but it will be kind of short notice to plan a trip, won’t it?”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll get us there and back whenever we want.”
“Do you own a private jet or something?”
“No private jet. But it’s easy enough to hire one.”
She laughed. “Spoken like a true billionaire.”
Our eyes met, and the silence grew a little tense. She looked so damn good, and I wanted her so badly. “Ready for bed?”
“Yes.”
I stood up. “Go ahead. I’m just going to make sure all the lights are off downstairs and the doors are locked before turning the alarm on.”
“Need help?”
“No. I’m good.” My heart was hammering as I went down the steps, because I had no idea which room she would choose. I figured by going downstairs, I was giving her a chance to decide what she wanted without pressure from me.