Chapter 80
Chapter 80
It took longer than expected. By the time Marcus finally saved his last document and shut down his computer, it was almost 7 PM. The office building had that eerie quiet that comes when everyone’s already gone home, leaving behind empty desks and dimmed lights.
Elara had dozed off at some point while sitting on his lap, her head tucked into the crook of his neck, her breathing slow and steady. Marcus had kept working with one hand while the other stayed firmly around her waist, keeping her secure. When he finally woke her, she blinked up at him with sleepy, confused eyes that made him smile.
“Time to go home,” he said softly.
They took the private elevator down to the lobby. When the doors opened, Marcus was shocked to see the receptionist still sitting at her desk, her coat already on but her bag still beside her chair.
“You should have gone home,” Marcus said as they walked past.
The young woman stood immediately, looking apologetic. “I will now, sir. There was no one else to lock up after everyone left, so I stayed to make sure everything was secure.”
“That’s fine. Thank you.”
Elara chipped in before they could walk away. “Since I’m riding with Marcus, my driver can drop you home, okay? It’s late. You shouldn’t be taking the subway alone at this hour.”
The receptionist’s face lit up with genuine gratitude. “Really? Thank you so much, Mrs. Thorne. That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s no problem at all.”
They walked out into the parking garage together. Elara’s driver was waiting exactly where they’d left him, patient and professional as always. Elara walked over and explained the situation, and he nodded immediately, opening the back door for the receptionist.
Marcus went around to his own car and opened the passenger door, but instead of just letting Elara climb in, he leaned down and reached for her seatbelt. He pulled it across her body carefully, clicking it into place, then paused with his hand still on the buckle,
“Is it too tight?” he asked, his eyes dropping to her stomach.
Elara blinked. “What?”
“Your tummy. You know, our baby. Is the seatbelt too tight? I don’t want it pressing on you.”
The concern in his voice made her smile, warmth spreading through her chest. “It’s fine, Marcus. I promise. The baby is still tiny, remember? Like a blueberry.”
“Still.” He adjusted the belt slightly anyway, making sure it sat comfortably across her hips instead of her stomach. “Better safe than sorry.”
He closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting the engine. The car purred to life, the dashboard lighting up with soft blue displays.
Chapter 80
“What do you want for dinner, love?” Marcus asked as he pulled out of the parking spot.
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Elara thought about it for a moment, then a craving hit her so suddenly and specifically that she almost laughed. “Nigerian jollof rice.”
Marcus glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “What’s that?”
“It’s like rice cooked in this tomato sauce with spices and vegetables. It’s really good. I used to eat it at Mimi’s house all the time when we were little. Her mom makes the best jollof rice in the world.”
“Is there somewhere we can get it?”
“Yeah, there’s this Nigerian restaurant. But it’s quite far. It’s close to my old neighborhood, actually.”
“How far?”
“Like thirty minutes, maybe? It’s kind of a drive.”
Marcus didn’t hesitate. “That’s fine. Let’s go.”
“Are you sure? We could just order something closer.”
“El, you’re pregnant. If you’re craving something specific, we’re getting it. Just tell me where to go.”
Elara pulled up directions on her phone and started navigating. They drove through the city as the evening traffic thinned out, the streets getting less familiar as they moved away from the expensive neighborhoods Marcus usually frequented and closer to the area where Elara had grown up.
Twenty minutes in, Elara started feeling guilty about the distance. They were still at least ten minutes away, and Marcus had already been at work all day. This was ridiculous.
“Marcus, can we go back?” she said. “It’s becoming too far. We can just order pizza or something.”
Marcus laughed, actually laughed, the sound filling the car. “Whatever you crave, I satisfy, my queen. We’re almost there anyway. No turning back now.”
They finally pulled up to the restaurant thirty minutes later. It was a small place tucked between a laundromat and a bodega, with a hand-painted sign that read “Mama’s Kitchen” in green and white, the colors of the Nigerian flag. The windows were steamed up from cooking, and Elara could smell the food even from outside.
She climbed out of the car, and Marcus followed immediately, locking the doors behind them.
“You’re coming in?” Elara asked.
“Of course I’m coming in. I want to see what this jollof rice is all about.”
They walked inside together. The restaurant was small and cozy, with maybe six tables and walls decorated with Nigerian art and fabric. An older woman behind the counter looked up when they entered, her face breaking into a warm smile.
“Good evening! Welcome, welcome!”
“Good evening, Mama,” Elara said, using the respectful title automatically. “Can I get one plate of jollof
Chapter 80
rice with chicken? Extra spicy.”
“Of course, my dear. Anything else?”
Elara glanced at Marcus. “Do you want anything?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m good.”
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Elara turned back to the woman. “Actually, make those two plates. One extra spicy, one medium.”
“You got it!”
They paid and waited by the counter while the food was packed up. The smell was incredible, making Elara’s mouth water and her stomach growl loudly enough that Marcus looked down at her with
amusement.
“Hungry?”
“Starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“El, that’s not good for you or the baby. You need to eat regularly.”
“I know, I know. That’s why we’re here.”
The food came out in white takeout containers, still steaming hot. They thanked the woman and headed back to the car. The drive home felt shorter somehow, maybe because Elara spent most of it staring at the bag of food in her lap, barely resisting the urge to open it right there in the car.
When they finally got back to the penthouse, Elara didn’t even bother taking off her shoes. She went straight to the kitchen, grabbed plates and forks, and opened the containers.
The jollof rice was perfect. Bright orange-red from the tomatoes and peppers, with visible pieces of chicken and the unmistakable aroma that made her childhood come flooding back. She loaded up her plate and took her first bite, closing her eyes in pure bliss.
“Oh my God,” she moaned. “This is exactly what I needed.”
Marcus had sat down beside her at the counter, watching her eat with an amused expression. “It smells good, I’ll give you that.”
“Try it,” Elara said, pushing her plate toward him.
“I said I wasn’t hungry.”
“Just try one bite. Please?”
He picked up a fork and took a small amount, bringing it to his mouth cautiously. The moment it hit his tongue, his eyebrows shot up.
“Wow.”
“Right?” Elara was grinning now. “It’s amazing.”
“This is actually really good.” He took another bite, then another. “Really, really good.”
Chapter 80
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Elara laughed and pushed the second plate toward him. “I knew you’d like it. That’s why I got you one too.”
“You said you were just getting an extra in case.”
“I lied. I knew the second you tasted it you’d want your own plate. Nobody can resist jollof rice.”
Marcus smiled and pulled the plate closer, digging in properly now. They sat there in the kitchen eating together, and for a moment everything felt simple and easy and right.
Just two people sharing a meal at the end of a long day.
AD
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