Happily Ever After Collection - Melanie Moreland Page 0,27
she opened her arms, dumping the files and briefcase onto her desk. She opened her mouth and let the bag fall on top of the pile and set her coffee down on the corner, then grimaced and moved it closer to the center.
“That—” she grinned “—is a disaster waiting to happen.” Then she stuck out her hand. “Dr. Lila Peters. You, I hope, are Julia, and if you’re not, then I’m in the wrong office.”
Without giving me a chance to reply, she sat down with a huff, reaching for the bag. “Please tell me I’m in the right office. I’m starving, and this chair is pretty comfy.”
I gaped at her as she unwrapped a McMuffin and took a bite, closing her eyes with a satisfied smirk. “Damn, that’s good.” She reached into the bag and held out a second sandwich. “Hungry?”
I bit my lip. No matter what Byron had done, no matter how many mouth-watering, delicious breakfast sandwiches he made me, this one still tempted me as my guilty pleasure. Every so often, I gave in and had one, and every time he laughed and shook his head. He’d kiss my temple and shudder, mumbling that if I had to succumb on occasion, at least I did it with the least offensive thing on the menu.
With a nod and a mumbled, “Thank you,” I reached out, took the proffered sandwich and bit into it with a satisfied hum. It might not contain an egg gently coddled with tarragon and aged cheese, or topped with hardwood-smoked bacon Byron drizzled maple syrup on while cooking, but it was damned good.
In between bites and sips, Lila and I talked. She was fascinating. Well-traveled and read, she had a whole new approach to teaching, and by the time the meeting was done, I was beyond excited about being her TA. She explained how she had agreed to the position, even though she had to finish out the year using the current structure and curriculum, but said she could infuse more interesting aspects into it. I was also thrilled to discover she taught another higher-level course I would be taking in the new school year. I knew I was going to learn a great deal from her. We talked about some of the reading material she wanted me to be familiar with. I had a few of the books, but there was one I didn’t.
“I’ll pick it up later.”
She waved her hand. “I have several copies. I’ll drop one off to you this evening. You live on campus?”
I shook my head. “No. I, ah, live with my boyfriend.”
She nodded. “Good idea. Off campus is so much quieter. What year is he in?”
“Oh, he isn’t a student.”
“Already working, then?”
“Yes, he’s a chef.”
“Excellent. You’ll have to tell me where he works. I love to cook—maybe we can share recipes.” She laughed.
Before I could explain anything else, she stood. “I have another meeting. Leave me your address, and I’ll drop off the book. I have to run around and find some things later, if that works for you.”
I stood as well, nodding. “I’ll be home tonight.”
Tonight was Monday—my second favorite night of the week. Gerard and I shared a love of old movies. Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, An Affair to Remember—we loved them all. Every couple of weeks, he came over, and we watched a movie after he made dinner. Byron joined us on occasion, but he didn’t like to be out of the restaurant if Gerard wasn’t covering. If things were quiet, Byron would come home early and join us for the second feature; although often he’d fall asleep with his head in my lap. He worked too hard, even though he’d cut back a little since I’d come into his life. Gerard told me that before I was around, Byron worked seven days a week—even when the restaurant was closed. Now we had Sundays, the occasional Monday when he’d let Gerard handle everything, and when he could, he left early and came home. It wasn’t often, but I loved it when he did.
Tonight, we were watching Roman Holiday. Byron promised to try to come home early. They were both pleased with one of the chefs and the way he was actively taking on additional responsibilities. He was ecstatic when Byron showed enough faith in him to leave early, entrusting the kitchen and restaurant to him. It was only for a couple hours, but for Byron, it was huge—especially since Gerard wasn’t there either.