Page 132 of The Boss Upstairs
“Well, kids can be a lot more perceptive than we give them credit for.”
I’m not sure what this all means. I’m not sure if it excites me. Or if it scares me.
Ashton and Lizzie are both sporting aprons. They smile at us when we come in. “Nice turtle, kid,” Ashton says.
Ethan smiles wide. He’s proud of his turtle.
“Daddy!” A flustered Lizzie hands her dad a sheet of paper covered with scribbles. “Does this say 375 degrees?”
Weston smiles. “Yes.”
“Oh good, I wasn’t sure if it said 350.”
“The bread is ready,” Ashton tells him. “Looks good.”
Weston turns to me. “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to take over in the kitchen, check on everything. You two can make yourselves comfortable in the living room.
He turns to his daughter. “Could you offer them something to drink?”
“Sure,” she says with a smile.
As Ethan and I head over to the living room, I can’t help thinking that his children are exceptionally polite and sweet. But how could they not be? They’re Weston’s.
Ethan and I flip through theArchitectural Digests, and when we get thoroughly bored with that, we discuss a possible name for his turtle. Finally, after much debate, we decide to name him Crush, after the cool sea turtle inFinding Nemo. Admittedly, we are not exactly original.
“So there’s Dumbo and Crush. What about your new monkey?” I say. “What should we call him?”
“Dinner is finally ready,” Weston announces, all smiles.
“Yes,” I practically squeal. “I’m famished.”
“Glad to hear it.” He leads us to the dining room, where a beautifully set table awaits us. Ashton is busy pouring water, and Elizabeth is setting down dishes. Salad, cooked green beans, baked eggplant, veal and pasta.
My stomach growls at the sight. “Wow, did you two really do all this?”
They both smile. “With Daddy’s help,” Lizzie offers.
Weston pulls a chair for Ethan. There’s already a booster seat with a tray secured to it. My heart swells to twice its size. He’s thought ofeverything.
He helps me get Ethan secured in his seat, and then he pulls a chair for me.
“Why, thank you, Sir. You are such a gentleman.”
Finally, following what seems like an eternity, we are all seated with eager stomachs.
“Bon Appétit!” Weston cheers. “Let’s dig in.”
We all help ourselves, and the conversation flows smoothly. Ashton talks about his driving course, and Lizzie goes on about a new friend she’s made at school. I savor every bite. It is really good. Even the eggplant is tasty. I’m happy to just listen and eat as the kids jabber away. Before long, the conversation turns to me, and we chat about the work I do for their father, and the daycare Ethan attends.
“He’s really cute,” Lizzie says. “I like that he doesn’t cry.”
“Yep… he’s pretty much always happy.”
Weston and I steal glances here and there. I love seeing him in this context, with his kids. Weston, the family man versus Mr. Hanson, the boss. Both sides of him are very sexy.
We all work in unison to clean up the dining room table and the kitchen. Everything in Weston’s kitchen is sleek and top of the line. The counter is mostly bare, save for the small appliances, unlike my own counter which is covered with spices, a bottle of olive oil, sippy cups and boxes of cereal.
We settle down on the sofa, and Weston digs out his kids’ old books. He reads Ethan Dr. Seuss’Green Eggs and Ham. Ethan loves the musical play on words. Ethan’s having a good time, but I can tell he’s tired. He’s rubbing his eyes and twirling a lock of his hair, both tell-tale signs.
