Mr. Big Shot (Suits & Sevens #1) - Isla Olsen Page 0,30
when you get back.”
With a shrug I leave the kitchen and head to my room, grabbing up some sweats and a t-shirt before stepping into the bathroom for a quick shower.
When I return to the living room, I stop dead in my tracks, stunned at the sight of Spencer standing in my kitchen peeling and chopping potatoes while my mom spiels off instructions.
“Um…what’s…?” I can’t even get a proper question out, still completely baffled as I hesitantly approach the counter.
Spencer glances up from his task to offer me a beaming smile. “Hey!”
“What are you doing here? In my kitchen…cutting potatoes…”
His lips twitch and his eyes dance with amusement; he’s clearly getting enjoyment out of my awkward reaction. “You left your scarf at the office,” he says, gesturing with his head to the item in question, which is neatly folded on the end of the counter. “I thought you might need it.”
“Isn’t that nice of Spencer to come all the way here to drop that off for you, Will?” My mom says, gazing at Spencer with cartoon hearts in her eyes.
“It was very nice,” I say, offering a wry smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I nod to the potatoes on the cutting board in front of him. “You want me to take over now?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. I’m going to show Claire how she can make mashed potatoes in the Thermo-mix.”
My brows shoot up and I turn to my mom, who’s still smiling fondly at Spencer. It’s not like she wasn’t grateful for the gesture of the expensive kitchen gadget—she definitely was—but she hasn’t actually used it yet, citing it as “too complicated” and “not the same as actual cooking.”
“Wow, that sounds great.”
“Well, I’ll leave you boys to it for a moment,” Mom says, slipping out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To get changed. I have that meeting after dinner, remember?”
“Oh, right. Do you need any help?” I offer.
She stares at me, completely aghast. “William! I do not need help dressing myself!”
I hold my hands up in a placating gesture. “My bad, just trying to be nice.”
Once she’s out of earshot, I lean toward Spencer, resting my forearms on the counter. “She could have easily changed after dinner—she wants to look nice for you.”
He offers a wide grin. “I’m flattered.”
“So, you came all the way to Brooklyn to give me my scarf, huh?” I ask, brows raised skeptically.
“I may have had an ulterior motive…” He leans forward so he’s in the same position I am, with his forearms braced against the countertop.
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” I murmur.
His mouth curves up in a sexy grin. “I didn’t want to wait another three days for some non-work time.”
We close the remaining few inches between us, our lips meeting in a sweet, slow kiss that’s really nothing but a torturous sample of what we both actually need. I finally manage to pull away, moving my lips to Spencer’s cheek and brushing them gently over his dark stubble. “Later. Once Mom’s gone.”
“What’s the meeting?” he asks.
“She’s finally started going to a support group.”
“That’s great,” Spencer says with a smile. “And it’s helping?”
I nod. “Yeah, it is. She’s doing much better.”
* * *
You’d think a dinner with my mom and the billionaire boss I’m secretly dating would be awkward, but somehow it’s not. Somehow it seems completely natural to have Spencer sitting here at the table chatting to my mom about old sitcoms he likes and some of the places he’s travelled.
“Did you get to the continent much while you were studying in London, Will?” Spencer asks.
I’m briefly surprised by the question because we haven’t talked about my time in London yet, but then I remember he’s my employer and would have seen my resume. “Um, yeah, we managed to get away a few times. We were pretty light on funds, though, so we mainly stuck to the more affordable destinations. Serbia, Estonia, Morocco…”
“Sounds amazing,” he says with a look of genuine interest. And there’s something else in his eyes, too, something that looks a lot like possibility, or maybe…invitation?
Spencer helps me clear the table after dinner, while Mom prepares for her support group meeting. She was reluctant to go at first, but finally after much prodding from meand her therapist, she decided to give it a try and tonight will be her third meeting.
“Okay, have fun!” I call as Mom finishes putting on her coat.
She adjusts the sleeve of her bad arm and offers me an incredulous look. “Fun? Will, I’ll be sitting in