“They made my Cuban wrong, and I let them know about it,” I replied. “Apparently, some sandwich makers don’t want to hear about the right way to make a Cuban, because being wrong is more important than learning how to make a sandwich the proper way.”
“Right. Remind me to never make you anything to eat.” Harrison chuckled as we walked down the sidewalk.
2
Harrison
He’s beautiful.
From the first moment I’d walked into Morgan Dell’s office, he was all that I was able to think about. I’d tried to hide my interest during the wedding consultation, but I wasn’t able to take my eyes off the guy.
There was just something about the way he carried himself. He wasn’t arrogant, but I had a feeling that Morgan often felt like he was the smartest person in the room. And when I’d noticed the polish on his hands, I knew that he had to be pretty confident in himself. Besides the fact that he was absolutely gorgeous, there was something mesmerizing about a person who seemed so sure of himself, as if every facet of his personality was unwavering.
Morgan had decided on a different sandwich shop for lunch. His reasoning was that it was only right for me to have a Cuban made the right way, and I was amused by his logic. Of course, we both ordered a Cuban sandwich, and we were waiting for the waiter to come back with our meals.
Morgan was scrolling on his phone, a serious look on his face. I figured it had something to do with work, and a part of me wanted to tell him to relax and just enjoy his lunch.
But another part of me wanted to lean across the table and kiss him, happily taking his mind off his phone, off work, off whatever was keeping him out of this moment.
And that was the part I was concerned about.
I’d never been attracted to a guy before, and yet, today I was so attracted to one that I’d been finding excuses to spend more time with him. I didn’t even know that I had a type when it came to guys, but now I officially knew that Morgan was exactly the kind of guy I liked.
Since I’d never been the sort of person to run away from a situation just because it was new or uncomfortable, I didn’t mind exploring my attraction to Morgan. I was curious to see how far it went, and it seemed like Morgan didn’t mind seeing where things might go, either.
“So, did you always want to be a chef?” I asked, hoping to steal Morgan’s attention away from his phone.
Morgan looked up at me before he replied, “Pretty much, yeah.”
“Was cooking something you always liked to do?”
“Ever since I was a kid.” Morgan beamed. “I spent a lot of time with my grandma, and she’d have me helping her out, whenever I could. She wasn’t a professional chef or anything, but she spent a lot of time making meals for soup kitchens, places like that.”
“That’s so… wonderful,” I said. “She sounds like she was a saint.”
“She was.” Morgan’s face fell a little before he looked up at me again. “What about you? What do you like to do?”
“I like numbers,” I answered. “Always been good with them. And when I got to college, I found out that you can make a pretty good living if you don’t mind staring at numbers and spreadsheets for the rest of your life.”
“Yeah. There’s always money in doing things most people don’t want to do,” Morgan commented before he shook his head. “Sorry. Not to say that your job isn’t desirable or anything—”
“Oh. No. It’s not desirable at all.” I laughed. “Which is why I have such great job security. There aren’t a lot of kids graduating from college with stars in their eyes, daydreaming about having a corner office and a calculator basically glued to their desk.”
“Nope. Just you.” He smirked.
And I wanted to kiss him all over again.
Just then, our waiter came back with our sandwiches. He set them down on the table and shot an expectant look over at Morgan. “Hey, Morgan.”
“Oh, hey. I remember you.” Morgan offered him a warm smile. “You used to work over at that place on Olive Street? Right? Dale’s?”
“I remember you, too. And yeah. I used to work at Dale’s.” The waiter paused before he asked, “Are you, um, on a date?”
Morgan shook his head no as he took a bite of his sandwich.
“Oh. Okay. Good.” The waiter seemed relieved and walked away from our table without saying another word.
“He likes you,” I pointed out to Morgan. “I wonder, how many people in this city are running around with crushes on you?”
Morgan laughed in response. “He doesn’t like me. If anything, he just thinks I’m cute. But if he got to know me, I promise, he’d lose all interest.”
“Why? You seem like a good person to me.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t a good person,” Morgan replied before he took another bite of his lunch. “But I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not like you.”
“Like me?”
“I’m not… charming,” Morgan continued. “I’m more of an acquired taste. Like, BBQ pork and mustard on a fresh-baked loaf.”
“I think you’re pretty charming,” I admitted without thinking.
And then, out of pure embarrassment, I brought my attention back to the sandwich in front of me.
Shit.
Why would I say something like that? What if Morgan had a boyfriend?
What if Morgan wasn’t even gay?
The thought hadn’t occurred to me, but now, I was too terrified to try to confirm it.
“Of course, you think I’m charming. You don’t really know me, at all.” Morgan sighed. “That’s usually how it works, anyway. Hopefully, I don’t do anything in the next few weeks to break the illusion.”
“Hopefully not,” I replied, looking back up at him.
He was smiling.
And I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back at him. I was worried that it was going to be difficult to stop myself from doing anything Morgan wanted me to do, whenever he wanted me to do it.
“I have another meeting to get to,” Morgan said as he stood up from his seat. “But I’ll give the card to the waiter on the way out, to make sure I cover anything. You can order whatever else you like.”
“I think I’ll be good with the sandwich.” I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. I’d hoped that our lunch would last a little longer, wanting to spend more time in Morgan’s orbit.
“I’m… going to The Femme Fox after work,” Morgan murmured.
“What’s The Femme Fox?”
“It’s a bar. They have really good margaritas,” Morgan clarified. “I’ll be hanging out there tonight with some of my friends. You should come out, too, if you’re interested.”
“Maybe. I’ll think about it.” I smiled up at him. “Thanks for the invite, either way.”
Morgan shuffled away from our table, making his way through the restaurant as he looked around for our waiter.
“Where the hell were you?” Kimmie nudged me in the arm as soon I walked through her apartment door. “Dirk and I thought you were behind us. We didn’t realize you weren’t, until we made it back to the car.”