Chapter Twelve
As they stood at the galley counter, side by side, Ross tried his best to concentrate on what Essie was saying and not just stare at her luscious lips, not to mention her curvy hips. He was ready to break out into a sweat. They had already gotten the shrimp stir fried for the spicy Thai salad they were having for lunch, and now he was chopping, or supposed to be chopping, cucumber. But Essie looked so cute at the stove, her hips giving a little wiggle, which he could almost swear she was unaware of, as she stirred the mixture of shrimp, lime, fish sauce, and onions. At first it seemed like a lot to put together, but he had to admit, she made it seem fun and easy. Essie turned and gave him a smile. Damn those lips. His knife slipped and he nicked his finger. “Ouch!”
“Watch it!” She came running over to check him out, pulling his hurt finger toward her for scrutiny. “You have to pay attention or you’re going to get hurt. It’s not as simple as it looks.”
Ross kept staring at her. “Nothing ever is.”
Essie pulled him toward the sink as she simultaneously turned off the stove. She rinsed his cut thumb, then dried it. She pulled the first-aid kit down with a quick, no-nonsense air and bandaged him. “It’s nothing much, but you have to be careful.” She started to plate their lunch then and, without fanfare, served him at the counter.
Her eyes now held a seriousness that Ross didn’t want to accept. He leaned in to kiss her, but she backed up and waved a fork.
“Eat. And enjoy your work. But think about being more careful when you’re in my kitchen.”
He took a bite, then paused to smile. It was good. Essie gave him a nod of pleasure. “You did well for your first try. You can cook. I don’t see why you rely on eating out so much. All I can tell from our short time together is that you go way too fast. You’re reckless.”
Ross gave her a frown. A look that normally would end most conversations, but still Essie continued.
“Save the look, Ross. I see it. It may have gotten you far in business, but if you’re not careful, it could be your downfall.”
“I doubt that.” He said the words, but something about them still hit him hard.
“Really, then why am I here?” At this, Ross raised his brow and she dropped her fork. “That’s bullshit, Ross. And it doesn’t look good on you. Be serious with me for once. It was Misha who first called me from the ER. Something got you in there, scared as shit. You have a boat called Serenity, but it seems like your life is anything but. Why would you even name your boat Serenity if your life is full of chaos?”
Ross swallowed, trying hard to push down the truth he was sailing from as fast as his boat would take him. But he let it out. “It’s named after my daughter.”
Essie stared. Her eyes wide, her mouth shut. He wished more than anything she’d say something. Anything. Just fill the silence. Right now he didn’t want it. The silence was worse than anything. Bringing her on board gave him something do to, something to think about besides the fact that he thought just the other day he might die and would be missing another holiday, maybe his final chance to be with his daughter.
Finally she spoke and said just the wrong thing. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your pity. I’m fine,” Ross said in a low voice.
She laughed and somehow it made him feel better. “Yeah, I can see you are.”
Ross laughed then, too. “You really are a ball-buster, you know that?”
Essie surprised him by chuckling. “You know, that’s about the nicest thing you could have said to me.”
* * *
Essie was glad to break the tension. She could see Ross’s inner struggle, and though she wanted to be a little hard on him, she felt bad for causing him pain. It was clear that his emotions were erratic and raw. He warred with something in his mind and heart. Essie’s own heart broke a little for him and she chided herself for it.
Shit. Now she remembered seeing behind his desk the photo of the little girl. She was so taken with him that she didn’t look past the obvious and see deeper. Essie wanted to hang her head in shame. She was so focused on her own desires, she completely shut out what was happening with her client.
Essie could see Ross was uncomfortable, so she eased her way back to his daughter as they shared dessert, a simple brownie a la mode, which he helped make. “How old is your daughter?”
He swallowed before he answered on a low whisper. “She’s four.”
The answer took her cracked heart and shattered it. One, because of her age, and two, because it seemed to put to rest any buried thought of a blossoming relationship with him.
“I can tell you miss her.”
Ross shrugged. “You can’t miss what you never had. I was only with Yasmine, Serenity’s mother, for the first year of her life. A little less. I never even shared an actual birthday with her. I was on my grind, and I thought Yasmine was all for that, in the beginning. After Serenity, she changed. Said she wanted to settle down, and if it wasn’t with me, then it would be with someone she could make a home with. I get it. For some women, they need that.” He gave Essie a pointed look.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m just looking,” he said.
“Well, you’re looking like you’re sizing me up, which there is no need to, since I’m only here for ten days. Besides, we’re talking about you and your daughter.”
“Touché.” Ross let out a sigh. “No matter, Yas and I were spending more time apart than together. Her modeling career was on a downturn and she was ready to settle down. I was not, and, besides, a kid needs stability. I get it. Her new husband has done well by her and Serenity. We talk and Skype. She knows I’m her father.”
Essie wanted to say something, but the way he ended his speech, it made her wonder if he’d be receptive to anything she had to say. She took a gamble. “I’m sure she does and I’m sure, even if you don’t think so, she misses you. Especially at Christmas. I know I miss my dad.”
Ross’s expression had her instantly regretting her words. “It’s just he worked a lot. And it was only on his forced time off, Sundays and holidays like Christmas, when we got to spend time together as a family. I cherish that more than I think he ever knew.” She smiled as the good times with her dad came back to her. The laughter and the good food they shared. “It was my father who first taught me how to cook.”
Ross’s eye widened. “Was he a chef, too?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no! Just a hungry man with a creative palate. Dad never made the same dish twice. It was always a little different, depending on what we had available. His only day off from driving the bus was Sunday, and he loved cooking for my mother. She worked so hard, so he’d make her these wonderful meals with whatever we had on hand. As I got a little bigger, I’d join him in the kitchen, and we’d laugh together and he’d tell me stories of his family, how one day it would be great to have a family restaurant where we could do this all the time. In the kitchen was the only place he wasn’t stressed about bills, time, the next shift.”
Ross glided the back of his hand softly and reassuringly along her arm. She gave him a smile as she continued speaking. “He always said we were blessed that God made a way so that we always had a little food on the table. My father died on a Sunday, going in to make a little overtime to get more for our holiday dinner. Christmas was our favorite time. Trimming the tree. Sharing a meal.” Essie stopped talking when Ross reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek, which she hadn’t known she’d shed. “Oh, hell. I’m sorry,” she said.
“What are you sorry for? It’s me who should be apologizing. Taking you away from your mother on Christmas. No job or amount of money is worth that.”
She put her hand out to his lips to stop him. “No, this was my choice. You’re bringing me closer to my dream of my own restaurant, and I thank you.” She smiled wide, hoping to elevate the mood. “Now, enough talk. Let me clean this up, and you take care of whatever you planned for this afternoon, and I’ll think up your next fabulous meal.”