Chloe looked up from the business plan she was reading to find Oliver looking at her. Unsure how to decipher the pensive expression on his face, she opted on the most obvious question.
"I'm all right with her knowing my name. I told her."
"Okay."
His knee brushed hers when he sat down. Chloe stared at the papers on her lap to avoid his gaze. "It's unsettling to hear people calling me that after so long, but I like it. I like being Chloe again."
For as long as it'll last. Chloe buried that thought deep in the recesses of her mind. In a few days, the charade would end. Oliver would get bored of being her hero, and she would have to find a way to put on the skin of Dorothy Gale again.
Oliver touched her shoulder. "What's troubling you?"
She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Keep it light. Keep it easy… It's your burden not his... Chloe forced out a strangle laugh. "Do you really have to ask?"
Oliver turned to face her, one ankle on his other knee, one arm slung across the header. "Point. Do you still have trouble sleeping?"
She wished he let it go, just for tonight. As the hours ticked, as the moment she needed to go back to bed loomed closer, she wanted light and fun and just forget about sleep, and nightmares.
"I don't need much sleep. I'm a night owl. You're going to worsen your injury seating like that."
Oliver took her change of subject in stride, but he didn't move. Instead, his fingers played with the car keys he'd picked on the table. "Good thing I have you to nurse me back to health then." His smile curled a wicked dimple near his mouth. "I bet I can even find you a sexy nurse costume for the Masquerade."
"What are you talking about?"
As if on cue, her eyes fell on a red and gold invitation card that had fallen from Barbara's envelope. Oliver shrugged a shoulder. "The Oasis' fundraiser. I have to go and I need a date."
"Hell, no."
"No to the nurse costume, or no to coming with me?"
"Both!" Chloe jumped to her feet to pace, blues forgotten. "Oliver, I have to keep a low profile. Why do you think I hacked into the tabloids' databases the other day?"
"You can wear a mask."
"I'm not going."
"It will allow you to interview the Oasis' staff."
"I can do that anytime without making a fool of myself in public. That's what Dorothy Gale is for!"
"Does it mean you want to dress as the wicked witch of the west?"
"No."
"Glenda?"
"No!"
"A munchkin?"
She threw her hands into the air. "Will you stop it?"
"If I suggest Tinkerbell, are you going to hit me?"
His devil-may-care grin was so contagious she bit hard on her inner cheek not to answer it. "I might," Chloe warned.
"Violent. It's okay. We have several days to think of something."
Chloe glared. Oliver offered an angelic smile in return. He had a full bag of smiles, she was discovering. Each one was more devastating than the next. She picked another angle of attack. "How come you don't have a date?"
He jolted a little. Chloe preferred not to dwell on what costume schemes were brewing in his head that he wasn't paying attention. "What?"
"You're Oliver Queen."
"So?"
The photoshoot smile was too bright, his tone too light. The words were already tumbling out of her mouth when she noticed, too late to swallow them back.
"Women are lining all around the block to get your attention. How come you don't have something pretty and harmless to hang off your arm for the evening?"
His eyes flashed. In anger or hurt, she couldn't say. Stupid, stupid Chloe, insult the one person who goes out his way for you…
"I do. But she refuses to tell me what outfit she wants to wear." Oliver pushed to his feet before she could find her voice. "You mentioned cooking yesterday. Is the offer still on the table? I'm famished."
"I… Of course. Yeah, sure. Let's see what's in the fridge."
Chloe watched him walk toward the kitchen helplessly. She'd just insulted him by playing directly in the tabloids playboy's cliché. And he turned it into one of the most subtle compliments she'd ever received.
They ended up grilling some sausages Oliver rescued from the freezer, while Chloe tried her hand at homemade pasta.
"Your pantry is pathetic," she called out.
"Hey, in my defense, I've been back in town for only a week."
"And you don't have people doing the marketing for you? Oliver, the only things edible in there are eggs and milk."
"I have cereals."
"Miniwheat®, Oliver. What are you, five?"
"Hal' sister bought them for her children. Hal eats those, too."
Chloe snorted.
Oliver pointed at her pan. "I also have flour, which allows you to make those things."
"Those things are Spaetzle. A German speciality."
He frowned when she used his scotch to deglaze the pan.
"If you do not have a good wine to use, it is far better to omit it, for a poor one can spoil a simple dish and utterly debase a noble one."
"Sounds almost Shakespearean." Oliver stole a piece in the pan. "Okay, I see your point."
"Julia Child said that actually." She slapped his hand when he went for a second helping. "Don't you have something on the grill?"
"I'll have you know that I am an expert griller."
"That, or you like your meat charred."
"Oh ye of little faith." Chloe threatened him with her spatula. "All right, all right, I'm going. Do you want to eat outside? It should be warm enough if I lit the pit."
Chloe concentrated on her dish. "It's fine. I can put on a sweater if I'm cold."
"As you wish."
When she exited the kitchen with her plate of noodles in hands, she found him setting the table in the living room instead. Oliver shrugged in guise of explanation. "The weather is turning."
As if on cue, drops started to fell, until the rain hanged a watery wall from the sky. Chloe spooned some spaetzli in his plate, less in hers, watched as he split the sausages.
"So that's what sour weather looks like in Star City."
"Yeap. Rain. Lots and lots of rain that makes you feel like you're breathing in water. I think I hate the rain as much as I hate the cold." Oliver took a bite. "Wow, this is really good. I am officially putting you on cooking duties."
Chloe concentrated on her plate to select the one golden piece to eat first. "Thanks."
All a sudden, she was glad for the full attention Oliver gave his diner. Her cheeks were too hot as it was without those long, penetrating gazes that warmed her from head to toe. They ate in companionable silence for a while. It was strange, Chloe thought, to be that comfortable with someone she barely knew.
"What's on your mind, Professor?"
"Hum? Oh, nothing. Just woolgathering. What's on yours?"
"Ah! I asked first."
She stuck her tongue at him. "Fine. Tell me something about the Oasis."
The question clearly took him by surprise. "What do you want to know?"
"I don't know. Whatever you want to share. Something which is not in the press book."
Oliver furrowed his brows in thought as he drummed his knife on the edge of his plate. "The Foundation is named after the rock band. A group of kids were listening to one of their albums when I visited Sister Clare to discuss the project. It clicked."
"What was the song?"
"Go let it out."
"You remember?"
"I pay attention to details."
Of that she had no doubt. Chloe nodded for him to continue.
"The Oasis is just somewhere they can cultivate their talents, or find help for school. It's time and attention those kids need. Money is just a mean to an end."
"You do pay attention to details," Chloe commended. Oliver pushed his plate away then stood. "Finished?"
If she had been a betting woman, she would have wagered the praise had thrown him off balance. "You cooked, which means I do the clean-up."
"This I need to see." Chloe grabbed her empty plate before he could. "I might even snap a picture."
He flashed his trademark grin. "Please. Oliver Queen putting dishes in the dishwasher warrants at least a video."
Chloe chuckled. "How much do you think it would worth?"
"Nothing, since you single handily destroyed your potential buyers."
"There's still eBay and your legion of fans."
She laughed when he made a face. "Make yourself useful and prepare a list of groceries. I'll have someone bring them in."
"I can do the shopping."
"You're sure?"
Once again, his gaze enveloped her in warmth. Chloe pulled back before she touched his arm. "Yes. I've been cooped up in here all day. And we don't have dessert."
"It's raining cats and dogs. Groceries can wait until tomorrow. We are ordering dessert in."
Thunder cracked the sky open. She conceded the point. And regretted it when he added, "this way, you can pick up your costume at the same time. There's this great boutique next to Ralphs…"
"Oliver…"
