“I asked them not to make it uncomfortable,” he says, starting up the narrow staircase.
“It’s fine. The wine is helping.” I hold up my wine glass in appreciation.
Holt shows me the impressive brownstone, and I’m in utter awe of its beauty. Original white crown molding stands out against the dark gray neutral walls and large window coverings accentuate the tall windows. Everything is stunning. By the time we make it back to the kitchen, Janice has dinner almost ready and Dan is waiting in the dining room. Holt sits down to the right of Dan, who is at the head of the table, Janice directly across from Holt, and I sit down next to Holt.
Janice outdid herself preparing baked salmon, asparagus, and homemade scalloped potatoes. My stomach growls as Holt heaps a generous portion of each dish on my plate. We fall into easy conversation over dinner, listening to Dan tell stories of his days as the owner of a transportation company. He owned cargo ships that transported goods back and forth across the continent, and I can tell that Holt got much of his entrepreneurial drive from Dan.
While wealthy, I’m impressed at how down to earth and normal Dan and Janice seem, and I can tell that was woven into the fabric of who Holt has become. I smile as I watch the three of them interact casually, acting lighthearted with each other. Well into the meal, my nerves have settled, and I finally take a deep breath and try to just enjoy the rest of the evening.
After everyone has finished, I help Janice clear the dinner dishes and offer to help her wash them, but she won’t hear of it.
“How did you meet Holt?” She finally asks as she scrapes leftover food into the trash.
I’m rinsing the dishes, stacking them in the other side of the sink. I smile at her and answer honestly. “We work together.”
She looks up at me with curious eyes. “What exactly do you do there? I always think of aviation as being such a male-centric field.”
I laugh. “It kind of is, but you’d be surprised how many women there are these days. Aeronautical engineers building planes and even pilots. But my degree is in interior design. I was hired to sell and build all the custom design elements for Jackson-Hamilton’s clients.”
“Interior design,” she says, her eyes widening. “I never would’ve thought that could apply to airplanes before. That’s really interesting.”
“It is,” I respond. “I noticed all the amazing work done in your house. You have an eye for design yourself.”
“Oh, this old house.” She brushes it off. “There were a few things that I really wanted to keep, but for the most part, it was a complete overhaul.”
“Well, you kept the important things,” I tell her. “The doors, the crown molding, and the wood floors. Everything was restored beautifully.”
She smiles at me, appreciative. “Thank you. Not many notice that. So are you from Chicago?”
“I lived there for a few years as a little girl but moved back to North Dakota, where I was raised and went to college.
She looks at me curiously out of the corner of her eye and sets the final dish in the sink. “I’m not sure Holt told me what your last name was.”
I smile. “He knew I was nervous about coming, and he promised to keep tonight casual, so he probably didn’t mention it. It’s Phillips.”
I notice what I think is the smile falling from her face as she turns quickly and pulls a cheesecake from the fridge. “Well, I’m not sure anyone will be hungry for dessert, but I have this amazing New York Cheesecake.” She smiles stiffly. Pulling a knife out of the knife block, she begins slicing pieces. “Dear, would you mind serving this? I need to run to the restroom.” She drops the knife on the counter and she quickly leaves the room.
I take over, plating four pieces of the thickest, creamiest cheesecake I’ve ever seen. Dan joins me in the kitchen and begins a pot of coffee while talking my ear off about the ins and outs and intricacies of my job. I really like how at ease he makes me feel.
As he pours cups of coffee, Holt joins us in the kitchen. He puts his hands on my shoulders and stands behind me. “I think we’re going to have to call it a night. Mom isn’t feeling great and has gone to lie down.” He looks at Dan, who nods and places the coffee pot back on the warmer.
“Did you want me to pack some dessert to go?” Dan asks. “Your mom will be disappointed you didn’t get some. She knows it’s your favorite.”
Holt shakes his head and purses his lips. “No thank you,” he answers Dan.
“Everything okay?” I ask quietly.
“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the bridge of his nose and pinching his eyes closed.