Chapter 34
**Tom**
I stood in my kitchen, surrounded by gleaming stainless steel appliances and marble countertops. The perks of being a professor with family money, I suppose. I'd decided to treat myself to a gourmet meal tonight - partly because I deserved it after a long week of lectures and grading papers and partly because I needed something to distract me from thoughts of Sara.
"Alright, Tom," I muttered, chopping vegetables with probably more force than necessary. "Time to channel your inner Gordon Ramsay."
I tossed the veggies into a sizzling pan, relishing the satisfying sound of food hitting hot oil. The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air, and for a moment, I felt like a culinary genius.
That is until I realized I'd forgotten to add salt.
"Bloody hell," I grumbled, reaching for the salt shaker. As I seasoned my creation, my mind wandered back to Sara—her smile, her laugh, the way she'd looked at me in class earlier this week.
No. Stop it, Thomas. She made it clear nothing could happen between us.
I shook my head, trying to focus on the task at hand. I was just about to add some fancy truffle oil to my dish - because why not be pretentious when you're eating alone? - when the doorbell rang.
Frowning, I set down the bottle and wiped my hands on a kitchen towel. Who could be calling at this hour? It wasn't like I had a thriving social life these days.
I made my way to the front door, half-expecting to see a lost delivery guy or maybe one of my nosy neighbors complaining about the smell of my cooking. (Mrs. Johnson from across the hall once accused me of "assaulting her nostrils" with my attempt at curry. The nerve.)
I swung open the door, ready to unleash my best "bugger off" face, only to find my younger brother, Leonardo, standing there with a grin and a bottle of wine that probably cost more than my monthly salary.
"Surprise, big bro!" he exclaimed, pushing past me into the apartment. "I thought I'd grace you with my presence and some overpriced grape juice."
I blinked, momentarily stunned. "Leo? What the... When did you get back from Europe?"
"About three hours ago," he replied, making himself at home on my couch. "Figured I'd come to see how the other half lives before heading to the mansion."
I closed the door, still trying to process this unexpected visit. "Right, because nothing says 'welcome home' like your brother's mediocre cooking and existential crisis."
Leo laughed, uncorking the wine with practiced ease. "Oh, come on. Your cooking can't be that bad. Besides, I brought reinforcements." He gestured to the bottle.
"My hero," I deadpanned, grabbing two glasses from the kitchen. "So, how was the big business meeting? Did you dazzle them with your charming personality and ability to spend obscene amounts of money?"
"Actually, it went surprisingly well," Leo said, pouring generous amounts of wine into our glasses. "We've got the green light to start selling our new luxury fashion line in Europe. It looks like the Blackwood empire is expanding its reach."
I raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. "Well, well. Look at you, conquering the fashion world one overpriced scarf at a time. Congratulations, little brother. You're doing good."
Leo beamed, clearly pleased with himself. "Thanks, Tom. It means a lot coming from you, Mr. Fancy Professor."
I snorted, taking a sip of the admittedly excellent wine. "Please. The only thing fancy about me is this apartment, and that's all thanks to Dad's guilt money."
"Speaking of Dad," Leo said, his expression slightly more serious. "He mentioned you might be reconsidering joining the family business?"
I froze, and the wine suddenly tasted sour in my mouth. "Ah, yes. That."
Leo leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "So? Are you really thinking about it? Because I've got to say, having you on board would be pretty amazing."
"It's... complicated. I mean, don't get me wrong, the idea of working with you is tempting. But teaching is..."
"Your passion?" Leo finished, a knowing smile on his face. "Yeah, I get it. But hey, no pressure. Just know that we've got much better wine if you ever decide to join the dark side."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Noted. Though I'm pretty sure 'better wine' isn't going to solve all my problems."
"No," Leo agreed, refilling our glasses. "But it certainly doesn't hurt. Now, what's this I smell? Are you actually attempting to cook something edible?"
I suddenly remembered my abandoned culinary experiment. "Oh, bloody hell. I completely forgot about dinner."
I dashed to the stove, praying my culinary masterpiece hadn't become a charred disaster.
Leo trailed behind me, wine glass in hand. "Relax, bro. Worst case scenario, we order pizza."
I lifted the lid off the pan, wincing at the smoke that billowed out. "Well, looks like we're having... creatively blackened vegetables à la Thomas."
"Mmm, my favorite," Leo quipped, peering over my shoulder. "Is that supposed to be... edible?"
I shot him a withering glare. "You know, for someone who just invited himself over, you're awfully judgmental about the free food."
"Free? Please. I brought a bottle of wine that costs more than your salary."
"Touché," I conceded, scraping the burnt remnants into the trash. "How do you feel about scrambled eggs? It's the only thing I can do without setting off the smoke alarm."
Leo shrugged. "That sounds gourmet to me. So, while you're channeling your inner chef, tell me—are you dating anyone these days? Or are you still embracing the bachelor life?"
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