So this is what it was like to eat a meal with a family. It amazed Jack how easy it was, how at home he felt.

Meals with his uncle were business meetings. James making plans for the future until he took his last breath.

Jack would never forget that day. His uncle, a shell of a man lying in his hospital bed, tubes dripping drugs into his system to ease his pain. Ethan had warned Jack the end was near, yet he couldn't fathom a world without his uncle, his only family member. The man who raised him. With the death of James, Jack became the head of Blackhorne & Caldwell and the Blackhorne fortune. A responsibility he wasn't ready for, chains of accountability weighing him down. Until the last moment, James retained control, barking orders from his sickbed. Jack obeyed. It was expected.

His ex-wife had sat in the lounge, James insisting she shouldn't overhear the business they had to discuss. James dished out his last orders. Jack had to get into politics, bring the Blackhorne name to the White House, hold the highest CEO position in the country. Never mind, Jack had no interest in politics, no desire to be responsible for building bridges, figuratively or literally. But James wanted it and made Jack promise to not let him down.

James also insisted the Blackhorne name had to continue, that the company couldn't be left to any offspring from their insipid backwater cousins in another country. His uncle waxed on about a dynasty, like the Kennedy's. Two sons, like his father had, like Jack's father would have had had he not died in the accident. In his morphine induced state, James spilled the secret that Jack's mother had been pregnant when the plane crashed. He'd have had a sibling. A brother, according to James, but Jack got the impression James was only assuming, making his dreams come true.

Promises given, James had fallen into a coma. Ethan sat vigil with Jack for hours as the machines keeping his uncle alive slowed the beat, measuring out his life until he pronounced his uncle dead. Despite Jack's efforts at pushing the doctor away, Ethan refused to let him go, holding Jack as he cried in that lifeless room.

"More Arepa Jack?"

Ximena held the plate with the still warm concoction of which Jack had already eaten one. "Why not?"

"That's my boy." Ximena's words burned in his chest. He'd not been anyone's boy since Mrs. Winston. She'd let him watch her bake in her kitchen as well. Blew on the hot apples so he could sample the pie fresh from the oven. Nothing in the world tasted as good as her apple pies. Ximena's cornmeal pies were a close second. A very close second.

"Abuela." Solana's fork clattered against her empty dinner plate. "He's stuffed."

Jack shook his head, his mouth too full of melted cheese to speak his denial.

A cherry tomato rolled across the thick china as her grandmother slid another helping of salad onto his plate. "The man is skin and bone. He needs to eat more, put some meat on his frame."

"Jack looks mighty fine as he is." Those eyes he loved widened, and Solana picked up her glass of water and chugged it.

He forced the last bite down. "I agree. But I'm glad to know you think so too."

Solana punched his arm playfully and sparks of delight filtered through him. Quite the opposite of when she'd held his hand in the limo. The frustrating news from Wolfe mixed with the anxiety at Solana's cool reception at the hospital caused torrents of doubt to roll around in his chest, making his bones shake. With her touch, the bashing abated and when she accepted his hand, the problems of the day didn't feel insurmountable anymore.

He rubbed his tingling arm, making a show of being hurt. "Ouch, my delicate frame."

"Oh, don't be such a baby." Her voice mocked him.

Ximena stood up from the table, collecting the empty plates. "Dessert Jack?"

Solana's lower lip jutted out in a pout. "I remember when she'd ask me if I wanted dessert. I've been replaced."

"Jack is our guest, my Heart and Sol." Ximena hip-checked her granddaughter as she turned from the table. "You get to enjoy my cooking every day."

"That I do."

"I'd love dessert." Jack piped.

Ximena lifted the lid on a ceramic container tucked into the corner of the counter. "Apple pie okay?"

Warmth bloomed in his chest. This woman was the best. "My favourite."

While Jack worked on his second piece of apple pie, Solana and her grandmother chatted about a charity event the community was holding to raise funds for a new playground.

"Jack." Ximena folded the corner of her placemat. "Will you come with us?"

"Sure." He must be high on apple pie. He couldn't just agree to go to a public event, especially a charity. Wolfe would have to vet the venue, assess the pros and cons of the publicity it would garner, if the company could be associated with it. "Wait. When is it?"

"Valentine's day." Solana said the two words like she was tasting vinegar. "But it's not related to the holiday." She air quoted 'holiday.' "It's a family affair."

Jack winced, his stomach tensing at what he would have to say. He couldn't lie, but he also didn't want a repeat of the last time he'd sat at this table and Solana had asked him to attend a party. "That's unfortunate." He twirled his fork over the pie, trying to delay the inevitable. "I have a... an event to go to that night."

He stared at his blue mug, full of coffee, avoiding the look of disappointment surely marring Solana's beautiful face.

"Probably more fun than watching twenty kids attempt to break a pinata." There was a softness in her voice. Jack met Solana's gaze, matching her tone.

"Actually, I'd rather do that than witness Draven get married." Choosing Valentine's was Draven's fiancée's idea. Something about it being the most romantic day of the year. Draven was anything but a romantic, but it wasn't Jack's place to burst the woman's fantasy.

"Felicidades." Ximena grinned like it was indeed a reason to be congratulated.

At the same time, Solana spit out. "The guy from the plane? Someone is marrying him?"

Jack abandoned his dessert. "They've been engaged for a few years. She threatened to leave him if he didn't set a date."

Solana crossed her arms. "Sounds like a great reason to get hitched."

"My Heart and Sol." Ximena tilted her head. "We shouldn't judge others on things we know nothing about."

Solana gave him a look that clearly stated she knew a lot about Draven, none of it good. Unfortunately, she wasn't wrong.

To Draven, the marriage was more of a business arrangement. Jack had tried to talk him out of it, as much as he and Draven ever talked about anything real. Used his own disaster of a marriage as a guidebook on how unhappy he and his fiancée would be. But the man was insistent nothing in his life would change because of a ritual in a church and a signature on a piece of paper.

"Solana's not far off. I'm pretty sure his fiancée is in love with her wedding dress and the high society guest list more than her husband-to-be." Ximena's face fell and Jack felt like he'd disappointed her.

"Who's your date?"

Solana's question took him off guard. Wolfe had asked the same thing, insisting he couldn't attend the event without one. It would be bad for his image, the company apparently missing the stability his ex-wife had provided, at least publicly. He'd taken Michelle to the last one, but she was married herself now. He shrugged. "Don't have one. Wanna come?"

The words were out of Jack's mouth before his brain could stop them. Solana opened her mouth, then closed it as if unsure how to respond to his blurted request.

Ximena clapped her hands together. "What a great idea. Solana would love to go with you."

"Abuela."

The tiny balloon of hope in Jack's chest popped with Solana's one-word admonishment of her grandmother. Of course, Solana didn't want to come to some stuffy black-tie event with him. Their friendship did not extend that far.

"It's a stupid idea." Jack wiped the corners of his mouth. Now he'd made a complete fool of himself, ruining the evening in the process. It was time to go. He'd count to ten and then make an excuse to leave.

A warm hand landed on his arm, drawing his gaze to meet hers. "It's not stupid." The balloon inflated and took over the cavern in his chest. Solana at the wedding would make the whole affair bearable, no enjoyable. He'd have someone to talk to that didn't want to pitch him a deal or match him up with their relative.

"I just..." Solana's hazel eyes fell to the tablecloth, "I don't have anything appropriate to wear to something fancy like that."

"Easy to fix." Her fingers started to retreat, but he stilled them with his hand. "I'll personally pick out a dress for you."

She stared at him, a myriad of emotions he couldn't identify filtering across her face. He'd gone too far, could see the possibility of her walking into the ballroom on his arm fade before him. One thing he missed about his marriage was having an excuse to select his ex-wife's outfits. In her clothing there was the freedom to feed his creative desires his closet of black suits couldn't. Finding the perfect dress for Solana would have been an adventure.

His life lacked adventure.

Her expression seemed to settle on resignation, and Jack's throat constricted. "You are not buying me a dress."

"Why not?"

Solana sat up straighter. "I don't want you spending money on me. I'm not for sale."

"Don't be silly. It's..." he was going to say nothing, that money wasn't a concern but then remembered where he was. He sat in a kitchen of a woman who couldn't afford her diabetic medication, never mind fix the squeaky front door. "You'd be doing me a favour. I'd owe you."

She laughed. Not a harsh, bitter chuckle, but a true amused giggle and the tightness in his lungs eased. "Me owe you. That'd be fun for a change."

Jack leaned forward, squeezing her hand. "Then you'll do it. Come to the wedding. Let me find you a dress."

Little flecks of lava danced in her irises. "Can I keep the tag on and return it the next day?"

Jack squished up his nose. "Why on earth would you do that?"

"I do it all the time." Her lips twisted to the side. "Not all of us have a fancy dress savings account."

"I don't have—"

"I've seen enough of your tie collection by now. You probably have a closet full of extravagant clothes."

Jack shut his mouth. He did have an obsession with ties. His uncle insisted he wear a suit every day. A dark suit emitted the attitude of confidence. They did that, but they were also incredibly boring. His only rebellion against his uncle, albeit a quiet one, was the little accessories to that suit. Watches, cufflinks and, most obviously, ties. Solana had noticed the ties. Somehow that meant more than the deal he'd signed before leaving the office earlier.

Solana beamed at him. "You do, don't you?"

"The suit makes the man."

"Well, your suits are boring." If anyone else had chastised him this way, even in jest, he'd have Wolfe annihilate them. Yet when Solana did, a thrill blasted through him, starting from where her fingers rested beneath his. "I don't think I have ever seen you wear anything beyond black."

"Hey, I have a few navy-blue suits."

"Thanks for making my point for me." A flash of fire illuminated her eyes and Jack found himself leaning forward, excited for whatever she had just thought of. "I have an idea."

"I'm listening."

"I'll make you a deal."

Jack waited for more, salivating at the anticipation of negotiating with her. A deal meant he'd see her again. A deal meant more of Solana.

"I'll let you buy me a dress for this event." Jack couldn't keep his lips from curling. "If..." She held up a finger and waved it back and forth. "... you let me select your outfit for the evening."

"Done." This was far too easy. It was a formal affair. What was the worse she could do? Put him in a grey tuxedo? "Can't wait to see what colour you choose for my suit."

Solana once again surpassed his expectations. "Who said you'd be wearing a suit?"

Hey all. DL here. Seems Jack and Solana will be seeing each other again. 

Personally I can't wait to see what Solana selects for Jack to wear. Any suggestions?