Chapter 71
Roman had pulled off deals in his life that had seemed impossible to others. He’d made risky calls that would have cost him everything if he’d lost. He’d sat across negotiating tables with men who ran the world and still left them in his dust. Not that he was a gambling man. Every business move he made was calculated, and he always made sure he could win, even with the risks.
But none of those situations had been as terrifying as this.
He adjusted the vase full of flowers on the table and then stepped back to inspect it. It still didn’t look right. Everything had to be perfect. He couldn’t control the outcome of the conversation but he could control this.
He picked it up and moved it to the other end of the table, and then realised it would be too far from Evelyn.
The timer in the kitchen started going off before he was completely satisfied with the table setting. He blew out a breath and went to sort the food out. He’d made them something quick and simple, something he wouldn’t choke on while he was trying to tell Evelyn how he felt.
Fuck.
What if she didn’t believe him?
He felt ill as he carried the wine to the table. Everything he had done had been so he could come to this point. In his head, Evelyn would smile widely and tell him that she still loved him, too, even though he was an ass. And then he would get down on one knee and pull out the little box burning a hole in his pocket and ask her to be his wife. She’d say yes instantly and they would live happily ever after.
But there were too many variables. What if he’d messed up so much that she wouldn’t want to take the chance? What if the things Esther had said would make her reluctant to stay with him?
He could prove Vivian meant nothing to him but would she believe him?
Maybe this was too soon.
“Wow. You’re going all out.”
He turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway. It was too late.
He cleared his throat and smiled at her. She had showered and worn something more casual from the clothes he had bought for her when she’d lived here. Another dress. He’d bought her plenty of dresses for easier access.
“Well, I know you didn’t get to eat much of your lunch, and I made us skip breakfast, so you must be as hungry as I am,” he said.
He kept his voice casual so she wouldn’t see he was shitting himself.
Fuck.
Maybe he would do this another day.
“It smells nice,” Evelyn said with a small smile.
She looked as uncertain as he felt. Did she have an idea of the conversation they would have? Was she already preparing her rejection in her head? The issue wasn’t that she didn’t have feelings for him, he knew she did. He could see it in her eyes now that the fear was gone. The issue was that she could decide he wasn’t worth her love anymore.
“Well, if you take a seat, I’ll bring it in,” he said as he walked over to her and took her hand.
Once he had settled her in her seat, he poured her a glass of wine.
“Those are pretty. Did you pick them from the garden?”
He looked at the vase of flowers at the end of the table, so far from Evelyn that she probably wouldn’t realise they were meant for her. He should have left them where they’d been.
“Um, yes,” he answered. “To compliment your beauty.”
Did that sound too cheesy? It did. He was messing things up. Fuck.
“I’ll bring the food before it gets cold,” he said quickly.
In the kitchen, he took a minute to calm himself. Why was this so hard? When Evelyn had told him how she felt, she had done it so effortlessly. She’d just sat there and let the words pour out. He’d bet everything he had that she hadn’t spent so long rehearsing everything in her head.
But he could do this. He had to. Life without Evelyn wasn’t an option.
He picked up their plates and carried them through to the dining room, and then sat opposite Evelyn.
“Bon appetit,” he said and watched Evelyn pick up her cutlery.
His mouth was dry. So fucking dry that words stuck in his throat. He poured himself some wine and gulped down most of it before he set his glass back on the table.
“You never told me who taught you how to cook like this,” she said.
“William. He was more present than my father when I was growing up. He and the housekeeper raised me,” he answered.
He picked up his cutlery but didn’t think he would be able to swallow even a mouthful of it.
“Oh,” Evelyn said. “And your mother?”
A look crossed her face before she looked back down at her food.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” she said.
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “My mother left us when I was four. She took half of my father’s assets and married her boyfriend.”
He had no idea how he said that so casually. His mother and Bains were the driving force of his success because he lived for the day they realised he was the cause of their downfall. It had eaten him up for years, but now it came out of his lips as if it was nothing.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine why a woman would leave her child behind, that’s terrible.”
He looked up and saw the concern in her eyes. Evelyn would never do anything like that. If they had kids, she would be there for them completely.
It was funny how the thought of her being pregnant wasn’t making him break out in a sweat now. Was there a chance she was pregnant? He hadn’t used any protection from the first night she fell back into his arms, and he had no idea if she had kept up with her birth control.
He wanted her to be pregnant.
He wanted his seed to grow inside her as proof of their love. And he would be a better father than his own.
“I had William,” he said. “He tried his best to make up for a lot of things.
He watched her eat her food while he just pushed his around his plate and sipped his wine. He hadn’t thought about when he would actually say this. While they were eating? Or over coffee?
Maybe it was better to just rip the bandaid off. Just say it.
He opened his mouth and then heard her ringtone. Evelyn put her cutlery down and picked up her phone. Her face changed, he could see she wasn’t happy with the caller. Had those dirtbag reporters found her number?
“Who is it?” he asked.
“Pam. The woman I worked with at the restaurant.”
He tensed. Why? This wasn’t part of the deal. There was to be no contact. Pam had agreed and sold their friendship for a few thousand pounds. She should not be calling.
“Don’t answer it,” he said.
“I have to. I need to know why she did it,” Evelyn said as she stood up. “Excuse me.”
Fuck.