I closed the menu. “Pick out what sides you want and I’ll order the steaks.”
She pinned me with her gaze, waiting for more. When I didn’t answer and continued to stare, she rolled her eyes and looked down at the menu. The waiter brought back the wine. I took the glass he offered me, taking a sip and giving the waiter a curt nod. He poured us both a glass.
The waiter took our orders left the table. Before I could ask Elena about her day, my phone vibrated. I held it up and jerked my head away from the table.
“Go ahead.” She nodded at the phone. “It could be someone from one of the restaurants.”
Unlikely.
I flicked the screen on as I walked away from our table and there was a text from my dad. What a way to ruin a good day.
Dad: Did you want to use the box tomorrow?”
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
Me: Sure. Thanks.
I hit the phone to silent like I should have done before we left the house.
“Is everything okay?” Elena asked when I returned. Concern creased her brow.
“Dad needs me to meet with a client tomorrow night.”
“Okay, don’t you do that all the time?”
The time had come to lay my cards on the table and see her reaction. “Not by choice.”
She gasped. “You mean your father makes you do it?”
“No.” I rubbed the back of my neck, massaging the muscles there. “Not exactly, anyway. After Dad finished paying for me to go to culinary school, he asked me to take over this part of the business. He’d given me so much, I felt like I couldn’t tell him no.”
Lifting her glass, she took a sip and set it back down. “I’ll be honest, I don’t understand that. Every day you push me to make my own choices—to do what makes me happy. Yet you don’t do the same.”
“It’s not the same. I do it because I love my dad, and he loves me.”
Her head twisted to the side as she slid back in her chair. “That was low.”
“Shit.” I reached out toward her. “That’s not what I meant.”
She pulled away and her eyes focused on something to the side of the room. “Then explain, because it really sounded like you were reminding me how stupid I was to do all of those things for Dominic when he treated me like crap.”
“Elena, look at me.”
She glanced over at me. “Don’t you dare think that’s going to work on me here. You can talk to me like that in the bedroom, not in the middle of an argument.”
I’d been reaching for my glass, when her words froze my hand. No one, man or woman, had ever spoken to me that way, and while it shouldn’t have it made me rock hard it did. “Excuse me?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she snapped, “What, didn’t think I had it in me?”
“I’m wondering why you’re speaking to me that way,” I countered, mimicking her pose.
Her shoulders remained tense, like she was preparing for battle. “Your point?”
Fuck, she isn’t going to give me an inch.
“I was trying to tell you before you bit my head off, that wasn’t the way I meant it.”
“Then how did you mean it?”
I ground my teeth together, trying to keep some semblance of control. The rational part of my brain knew that she needed to stand up for herself. That didn’t matter when my temper was in play. It had been set loose and it was looking for blood. With all of my effort to rein it in.
“My dad gave Miller and I everything, so when he asked us to take over parts of his business, we may not have liked it, but we couldn’t say no. His family has been doing it for decades. Right or wrong, it’s all I know.”
“You know how to cook. Very well, I might add.”
“Yes, but he’s my dad.”
Silence stretched between us. I swilled my wine around in my glass, taking a sip then looking for the waiter to refill it. The tension slowly leaked from her body.
“I called my parents today.”
Holy shit. I didn’t see that one coming. “What did they say?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “That they missed me, and were so happy to hear that I wasn’t living with Dominic right now.”
Thoughts of her living with me assaulted my brain. “Did you tell them about the show?”
Her smile broke through the tears. “I did. They’re really proud of me. Said they wish they could see it.”
“Why can’t they? Where do they live?”
“Delaware. It’s an expensive plane ride for just one show.”
“But they’re your parents?’
“Yeah. You have to remember my parents don’t have the kind of money yours do. A ticket like that would cost over six hundred—each. And that’s not including hotel.”