Chapter 6 - The Dinner Arthur Vale Couldn’t Buy
Three months later, Arthur entered the kitchen and found Nora packing a cardboard box.
He stopped.
“What is that?”
“My stuff.”
“Why?”
“My brother found work in New York.”
Arthur's expression remained unreadable.
“And?”
“And I'm going with him.”
“No.”
Nora looked at him.
“No?”
Arthur immediately realized his mistake.
“I mean—”
“You mean what?”
Arthur Vale had negotiated deals worth hundreds of millions.
He had stared down men carrying weapons.
He had rebuilt organizations after betrayals.
Yet standing before Nora Reed holding a cardboard box, he had absolutely no idea what to say.
“Stay.”
Nora’s expression softened.
“Why?”
Arthur looked around the kitchen.
“Because I need a cook.”
“You have four.”
“I fired Pascal.”
“You hired two replacements.”
“They're terrible.”
“They have Michelin stars.”
“Meaningless.”
Nora smiled.
“Arthur.”
His excuses were disappearing.
“Because I eat when you're here.”
“That isn't enough.”
“I sleep when you're here.”
She stopped smiling.
“I laugh sometimes.”
“Rarely.”
“Still counts.”
Nora set down the box.
Arthur continued.
“For years, people entered my life because they wanted something.”
“And me?”
“You wanted me out of your kitchen.”
“That first night? Absolutely.”
“You treated me like a person before you treated me like Arthur Vale.”
“I still treat you like Arthur Vale.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You argue with me.”
“Constantly.”
“You tell me when I'm wrong.”
“Frequently.”
“You don't fear my silence.”
“Your silence is usually because you're sulking.”
Arthur smiled.
A genuine smile.
Nora stared.
“There. That.”
“What?”
“You should do that more.”
Arthur looked down.
Then back at her.
“Stay.”
Nora studied him.
“Not as your maid.”
“Agreed.”
“Not as your cook.”
“Agreed.”
“I'm not accepting money.”
“I know.”
“You can't order me around.”
Arthur hesitated.
Nora raised an eyebrow.
He sighed.
“I'll work on it.”
She laughed.
Arthur stepped closer.
“What do you want?”
“For myself?”
“Yes.”
Nora thought.
“I want to open a restaurant.”
Arthur blinked.
“You?”
“Don't sound shocked.”
“You serve burned garlic.”
“Which saved your life.”
“Fair.”
“A small place. Nothing fancy.”
Arthur nodded.
“Where?”
“Queens.”
“Why Queens?”
“My grandmother.”
Arthur understood.
“I'll invest.”
“No.”
“Nora—”
“No.”
“Loan?”
“No.”
“Partner?”
She considered it.
“Silent partner.”
Arthur frowned.
“I'm bad at silence.”
“You're excellent at brooding.”
“That's different.”
Nora smiled.
“Twenty percent.”
“Forty.”
“Twenty.”
“Thirty.”
“Twenty-five.”
Arthur extended his hand.
“Deal.”
She took it.
Neither released the other.
Nora looked down at their hands.
Then up.
“This is normally where people stop negotiating.”
Arthur moved closer.
“What happens next?”
“For someone supposedly dangerous, you're surprisingly helpless.”
“I haven't done this in a long time.”
“Done what?”
“Wanted something I couldn't buy.”
Nora’s expression softened.
Arthur touched her cheek.
He waited.
Nora closed the distance.
Their first kiss was quiet.
No audience.
No expensive dinner.
No dramatic promises.
Just burned garlic lingering in the kitchen air.
When they separated, Nora whispered:
“You're still eating oatmeal tomorrow.”
Arthur groaned.
“Relationship canceled.”
She laughed.
May you like
And Arthur kissed her again.
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