Charlotte stood frozen, like a deer caught in the world's most awkward headlights.
Marco, bless his unbothered soul, merely raised an eyebrow and took a slow sip from his protein shake—like this was exactly the kind of drama he thrived on.
Alexander, meanwhile, looked like he'd just bitten into a lemon. Or maybe a truth bomb. His expression was tight, his jaw clenched, his eyes laser-focused on Charlotte, who suddenly regretted every word that had come out of her mouth in the last ten minutes.
"Hello, Charlotte, I'm so sorry. It seems that I've come at an inopportune moment." he said finally, his voice cool. Too cool.
"Alexander," she croaked. "What a… weird surprise."
Eleanor stepped forward, oblivious—or possibly choosing to be oblivious—with a smile as sunny as a Florida vacation brochure.
"I just had to come by and see what you and James have done with the farm," she said cheerfully. "It's so charming! And I've heard all about your videos—I've even tried your brownies! I mean, they were a little too moist, but I ate six."
Charlotte smiled faintly. "Thank you, Mrs. Hastings. That's… very flattering. Also, noted on the moisture."
Eleanor waved a hand. "Oh please, call me Eleanor. We're practically family."
That earned a subtle twitch from Alexander. Marco caught it and looked very entertained.
Charlotte cleared her throat. "So… what brings you two here? Just in the neighborhood?"
"Mother insisted," Alexander said tightly.
"I invited him," Eleanor corrected sweetly. "After seeing that delightful video of yours and hearing about the elevator encounter, I thought, why not stop by? I used to spend so many afternoons here back when you were little. Your mother and I would sit on the porch drinking lemonade, watching you and Alex chase chickens."
Marco blinked. "Wait. You and Alexander used to play together?"
Charlotte winced. "It was a long time ago."
"Very long," Alexander muttered.
"Still adorable, they grew up together and have been inseparable from childhood." Eleanor said with a wink. "And it's such a pity you two never ended up together. You know, we always used to joke about that—didn't we, darling?" she added, elbowing Alexander hard enough to make him flinch.
"I'm sure Charlotte's grateful that didn't happen," he said with a smile so tight it might've cracked.
Marco stepped forward, extending a hand to Eleanor. "Marco De Luca. I'm Charlotte's kitchen partner and part-time boot camp drill sergeant."
Eleanor lit up. "Ohh, the charming one from Naples?"
"That's me."
Alexander's brow twitched. "You're from Naples?"
"Yes," Marco said smoothly. "And before you ask—I do, in fact, have strong opinions about mozzarella and women who can actually cook."
Charlotte stifled a snort. This was getting dangerous.
Eleanor clapped her hands together. "Well, how delightful! Why don't we all have dinner together? You must show us what you've been working on in your new healthy menu series, Charlotte."
"Oh," Charlotte said quickly, "I don't want to trouble—"
"—No trouble at all," Eleanor cut in. "We'll help set the table!"
Marco leaned in and whispered, "Say yes. I want to see how much passive-aggression can fit into one meal."
Charlotte muttered back, "You're enjoying this too much."
"Absolutely."
---
An Hour Later – At the Table
Dinner was a chaotic masterpiece: grilled vegetable couscous, lemon-herb chicken skewers, and a roasted beet hummus that Marco had literally whipped by hand while flirting.
Eleanor complimented everything. Alexander touched nothing but his water. Marco made double entendres about cucumbers that had Olivia nearly choking on her sparkling lemonade.
But the tension simmered beneath the politeness like a pot ready to boil over.
"So," Eleanor said brightly, "Marco, do you live around here?"
"I've been staying on the farm for a bit. Helping Charlotte prep for the Chef's Challenge. It's been… enlightening." His eyes flicked to Alexander.
"Oh?" Eleanor said, ever the innocent. "And are you two—?"
"Just friends," Charlotte blurted.
Marco smiled. "For now."
Alexander's hand tightened around his glass.
Eleanor beamed. "Oh, I like you."
Alexander set the glass down a bit too hard.
Charlotte jumped in. "Anyway! Marco's been teaching me a lot. Knife skills, spices, burpees—"
"Burpees?" Alexander said, almost in horror.
"Yeah," Charlotte said with a sweet smile. "He's really helping me build stamina."
Marco added helpfully, "Full-body strength is essential. She's got great form. Especially in glutes and core activation."
Olivia covered her mouth with a napkin to hide her laugh.
Alexander stared at his plate like he wanted to murder the couscous.
Just as Alexander looked like he might actually stab his couscous out of sheer emotional repression, Eleanor turned to Margaret Evans with a nostalgic sigh.
"You know, Charlotte and Alex were like sugar and salt when they were kids—always bickering, but somehow inseparable."
Margaret chuckled. "Oh, I remember. There was that time Charlotte insisted on baking a strawberry cake with him, and ended up sneezing powdered sugar all over his face."
Eleanor laughed so hard she nearly dropped her wine. "He cried! He actually cried and screamed, 'She's poisoning me with dust!'"
Charlotte groaned. "To be fair, he told me my strawberries looked like alien organs first."
Olivia leaned in, whispering behind her napkin, "He was a savage even back then."
Eleanor's eyes sparkled as she looked at Charlotte. "But truly, Charlotte, you've grown into such a beautiful young woman. You were far too skinny as a child—look at you now! Radiant, healthy, and glowing. I always say curves are a sign of a happy heart and good appetite."
Charlotte flushed. "Thank you, Eleanor. That's… very kind of you."
"Nonsense, it's the truth. You're bright, optimistic, talented—and a culinary genius. It's rare to find someone with such flavor in both personality and cooking."
Olivia whispered with a grin, "She's giving future mother-in-law energy, babe. You better start prepping your vows."
Charlotte hissed, "Shut up."
Marco jumped in smoothly, swirling his lemonade with a lazy grin. "I have to agree. Charlotte's got this natural warmth that draws people in. And don't even get me started on her curves. She's got the kind of figure Botticelli would've painted—if Botticelli had decent taste in snacks."
Alexander choked slightly.
Eleanor, without missing a beat, kicked him under the table.
He coughed once, glared at her, then smoothly turned to William Evans. "Mr. Evans, I heard you've been in talks with a Shenzhen supplier lately?"
William's face lit up. "Yes, the tariff situation's getting tricky again. We're restructuring some of our export flow. Of course, that's not my company, I'm just involved as a consultant."
James joined in, nodding. "The tax situation could cut into margins by nearly ten percent if it keeps up."
Alexander leaned forward, clearly relieved to be in the safety of trade talk. "It's a smart move to anticipate the fluctuations. Our logistics division is seeing similar delays out of the Pacific region."
Eleanor rolled her eyes and sipped her wine like it was a tranquilizer. "Look at them. Drop-dead gorgeous women, a table full of amazing food, and this is what they're talking about—tariffs."
Margaret chuckled. "That's men for you. They see a plate of beets and start discussing border regulations."
Eleanor leaned in conspiratorially. "No, you know what's worse? Mine is the only one who still doesn't understand how to enjoy life. Alexander treats romance like a quarterly report."
Alexander didn't even look up. "Thank you, mother. I'm overwhelmed by your support."
She smiled sweetly. "Anytime, darling. I just hope one day you learn to negotiate a relationship, with the same energy you put into mergers and acquisitions."
Charlotte covered a laugh with her napkin.
Marco leaned toward her and whispered, "Do you think your mom likes me?"
Charlotte glanced at him. "She likes anyone who can make Alexander twitch."
Marco grinned. "Then I must be her favorite guest."
Olivia stabbed a beet with theatrical flair. "I swear, this dinner's better than any show on Netflix."