A Night to Forget (13 page)

I saw Brandon’s body stiffen as he shot me a quick glance that was a mixture of anger and hurt. “Really?” he asked sharply as he eyed me, and then turned to Josh, “Has she cooked for you?” he asked.

“No,” Josh said regretfully, “Not yet at least,” he laughed and looked hopefully at me. “I’m still waiting for that invitation.
” Josh paused before continuing, “Jill mentioned it this weekend when we all went to Tomales Bay. Jill and Emma are best friends and were roommates during college and Jill said that she rarely went out to eat because she knew Emma could make it better at home.” Josh laughed.

I forced myself to laugh
along with Josh as I shifted in my seat anxiously.

Brandon seemed to have relaxed a little as he turned to me and smiled.
“So, do you have anything planned for this coming weekend?” he asked.

His question caught me off guard
, and I didn’t know why, but I blushed.

“Yeah, I actually have plans,” I said tentatively.

“Oh, what are you up to?” Josh chimed in.

“Well, I
want to start volunteering at SFWAR and this weekend is their volunteer training,” I explained.

“Oh? What’s SFWAR?
” both Brandon and Josh asked. They looked at each other silently for a second and then looked back at me.

“It’s the San Francisco Women
Against Rape organization. They provide resources, support, and counseling for those who are victims of sexual violence.” I explained.

“That’s amazing, Emma. You’re such a good person,” Brandon said. “How did you decide to volunteer for this organization?”

I paused before saying, “Well, I think it’s an important cause, and I like helping out non-profits.”

“That’s so cool, Emma,” Josh said. “A cook and a philanthropist.”

I blushed. “Thanks.”

Then Brandon and Josh again spoke at the same time. As Brandon
asked, “So can you—” Josh said, “We should check out—” They looked at each other again and this time, Brandon spoke first.

“So can you stop by my office after lunch? I’d like to go over a few things with you?” Brandon asked.

“Oh, sure. Of course,” I said, slightly surprised by his random question.

Then Josh chimed in, “Hey, we should check out that new outdoor bar that just
opened up this week for Friday’s happy hour,” he said excitedly. “Oh, and by we, I meant all of us,” he added gratuitously as he looked at Brandon.

I sensed the tension between us and knew that Josh felt it too. The rest of the lunch went on this way as Brandon and Josh interrupted each other as they spoke. I felt more and more uncomfortable and was grateful when lunch finally ended. When the check came, Josh insisted on paying for at least his own meal, and against Brandon’s objections, we all ended up paying separately.

***

After we got back to lunch, Brandon called me
into his office.

With my notepad and pen in hand, I sat down again in front of his desk.

“So I’ve given it some more thought—” Brandon began. He looked at me and smiled, “—and I think it’s very nice of you to offer to cook for me. I do want to get to know you more, and I don’t think having dinner together would be such a bad thing.” He paused before continuing, “So, what I’m trying to say is, I’d love to come over for dinner, if you’ll still have me.”

I looked at him in surprise. There was a spark of hope in his eyes, and I felt that same spark in my heart.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes, I am.” He gave me a dazzling smile and I melted a little in the chair.

“Yes, I’d be happy to have you over sometime. Just let me know when,” I said, desperately trying to hide the excitement that I felt inside.

“How about Friday?” he asked.

“Um, after happy hour?”

“No, I was thinking we can skip that. Is that okay?”

“Oh,” I thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure if that would work out though.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, to make prime rib, it would take about three hours in the oven,” I explained.

“Ah, okay.” He then paused and checked something on his computer. “Well, how about this?” he began, “Besides a few calls I have lined up in the morning and a lunch meeting, my schedule
on Friday is wide open. Maybe after my lunch meeting on Friday, we can go grocery shopping for everything you’ll need for the dinner, and we can head over to my condo where you can make the dinner. I have a large dining room table, so we can still do some work and go over the Imperial Hotel Project. How does that sound?”

“Um.” I paused, taken aback by Brandon’s forwardness.
“That sounds like a good plan. Should I bring over my kitchen tools though?” I asked.

“No, no. My kitchen is well-stocked with appliances, pots and pans, and kitchen tools,” he said with a laugh.

“Oh, but I thought that you don’t cook. Did someone buy them for you?” I asked cautiously, wondering if an ex-girlfriend bought these items when she lived there.

He laughed, “You’re right, I don’t cook. But when I bought the condo, I thought that since I have an adult place
with a gourmet kitchen, I should probably have all of those things that come with a gourmet kitchen. So after consulting with my mom, I pretty much have a Williams & Sonoma store in my kitchen.”

I laughed. “I love a man who knows what Williams & Sonoma is.”
Shit, did I seriously just say that out loud?
I flushed in embarrassment and looked down at my blank notepad.

“That’s good to know,” Brandon chuckled. “I guess I should thank my mom for that.”

He’s definitely flirting with me, right?
I thought as I felt my spirits lift.

“So does that work for you? Friday?”

“Sure, that sounds like a plan.” I smiled at him.

“Great. I can’t wait, Emma. I’ll be sure to wear my fat pants that day,” he said with a wink.

I laughed.
You don’t have a single fat tissue in that muscular body of yours
, I thought as memories of that night in Cancun flashed through my mind.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I beamed at him as I left his office.

Chapter
12

The rest of the week went by quickly, and before I knew it, it was Friday. I woke up an hour earlier than normal to get ready for my afternoon and dinner with Brandon. I painstakingly shaved, plucked, and cleaned myself. While I didn’t expect anything to happen with Brandon tonight, I wanted to be prepared for anything, and I mean,
anything
. I picked out a coral wrap dress that flattered my body and brought out my emerald green eyes, and paired it with a black cardigan and black patent stilettos.

I felt a rush of excitement as I walked into the office building that morning. As I walked into the elevator, my heart skipped a beat when I came face to face with Brandon.

“Well, good morning, Ms. Anderson,” Brandon said with a warm, teasing smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Fisher,” I flirted back. As I walked in, I caught his eyes giving me a once over.
I’m so glad I took the extra time to get ready this morning.

We stood
there side-by-side facing the closed elevator doors as the elevator lurched and moved us up towards the 15th floor.

Through the silence, I felt an electric connection pulse between us. Our fingers were only inches away from one another and I desperately wanted his hands to hold mine.

“You smell really nice today, Emma,” Brandon said, interrupting my thoughts.

“Oh,” I said in surprise. “Thanks.” I felt my cheeks flush.

“What are you wearing?” he asked.

“It’s
J’adore
by Dior,” I said, slightly embarrassed.

“My French is a bi
t rusty, but doesn’t that mean, ‘I like you’ or something?” he asked. He turned to me and smiled.

“Um, I believe the direct translation is, ‘I adore you,’ and I think it means something like, ‘I love you so much that I adore you,’” I explain as I continue to blush.
It seems so fitting too
, I thought.

“Well, it smells really nice on you,” he said as the elevator door
s opened.

“So I’m really excited about dinner,” he said, changing the subject.

“Me too.” I smiled at him.

“And as promised, I’m wearing my fat pants,” he grinned as he motioned to his pants.

I laughed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I honestly can’t tell they’re any different from your other pants.”

“Okay,
” he paused as he leaned closer to me, “between you and me, there’s no difference,” he whispered as he winked at me. “I just like to see you laugh. It really suits you.”

I smiled at him, lost for words.

“Anyway, I’m pretty much tied up until 1 p.m. Why don’t you meet me downstairs in the lobby then? My lunch meeting is across the street, but I’ll need to come back here for my car.”

“Sure, sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”

***

“It’s starting to smell amazing in there. Is there anything I can help you with?” Brandon asked from the dining room, where he was reviewing some documents for the
Imperial Hotel Project.

“Actually, I might need some help taking the prime rib out,” I said from the kitchen.

“At your service,” Brandon said seconds later as he stood beside me. He took the oven mitts from me. “Here, let me take it out. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do. Do you want me to carve it?” he asked.

“Not yet. We need to let it rest.”

“Rest?” He looked confused.

I laughed, “Yes, rest.
Resting is when you leave the meat undisturbed after removing it from the heat.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

“Well, when you roast meat, the natural juices moves to the center of the meat. So if you don’t allow the meat to rest, all the juices will come out onto the cutting board when you slice it. But, if you allow it to rest, the juices will be able to reabsorb back into the meat, making it more tender,” I explained.

“Wow, that sounds amazing. So how do you, uh, let this meat sleep?” he asked.

I giggled. “You mean
rest
, not sleep. Fifteen minutes should be enough time.”

He laughed at himself. “And this is why I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal.”

As if in response, we heard his stomach growl in contempt. “As you can see, I cannot wait for this meal.” He smiled at me. It was warm, genuine, and alluring. I smiled back at him, realizing that I could never get tired of seeing him smile at me this way.

“Anything else?” he asked eagerly.

“Well, the French string beans with almond slivers are done. I’ll put it in the oven to keep it warm. I think the only thing we have left is to make the Guinness
au jus
dip for the prime rib and the mash potatoes,” I said as I ran down the checklist in my head.

“Ok, just tell me what to do.”

“Let me start the
au jus
dip, and why don’t you get the mashed potatoes ready? I’ve already cubed them and boiled them. We just need to mash them up and add in some ingredients. Do you mind doing the mashing?” I asked.

“I’m on it,” he said as he looked at the pot of potatoes.

I turned away from Brandon towards the stove and began making the
au jus
sauce with the pan drippings from the prime rib and a full can of Guinness.

A few seconds later, Brandon a
sked, “Just one question though.” I turned back to him. “How do you actually mash potatoes?” His innocent confusion was endearing and made me laugh.

“I believe I saw a masher earlier,” I said as I went through his kitchen
drawers. “Here it is.” I pulled out the potato masher.

“Oh,” Brandon looked at it sheepishly.

“What?” I asked, confused by the expression on his face.

“That’s a potato masher?” he said with a chuckle.

“Yeah. What did you think it was?” I looked at him with amusement.

“Well, I thought it was for the grill. I’ve been using it to press the hamburger meat while it’s cooking
over the grill.”

There was a slight pause as we look
ed at each other, and then we broke out in laughter.

“Okay, well, do you want to try out your potato masher fo
r the first time then?” I asked as I handed him the masher.

“You bet I do,” he said with a chuckle.

As he mashed the potatoes in the pot, I went to check on the
au jus
dip simmering on low on the stove. Then I turned my attention back to Brandon and helped him with the mashed potatoes by adding in some crushed garlic, butter, milk, sour cream, salt, and chives.

As he moved, I could not help but notice the muscles of his arm flex against his light blue shirt. We were inches away from one another, but our bodies did not touch. I could feel the heat of his body and his breath against my face. For a few minutes, we worked in silence, which seemed to intensify the tension that grew between us.