Chapter 32

"Mom, not keeping you for dinner tonight. Caitlin wants fish and chips—with malt vinegar. Pretty sure that's not your thing," Alexander said flatly, casually pulling off his blazer and grabbing an apron. He tied it on like he'd done it a hundred times and headed for the fridge. Even though he had always hated the smell of vinegar, ever since Samantha had devoured a greasy order of fish and chips the other night with that smug little grin on her face, he'd found himself stocking the freezer with cod fillets and thick-cut fries. Don't ask him why—he just did. He preheated the oven, fired up the fryer, pulled out the fish, seasoned it, battered it, and tossed it in hot oil like a pro. The fries followed. He laid out lemon wedges, prepped a ramekin of tartar sauce, and pulled out the bottle of malt vinegar from the back of the pantry with a resigned sigh. He might be the CEO now, but before everything went south with his brother, he'd spent enough time hanging around the winery kitchens in