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“In a second. Oh God, there’s so much! Is it too much? I can’t think about it. I’m just stirring. We went to the Lobster Cage. I met his ex.”
“Awkward.”
“No, not. I liked her. You’d like her. She’s the chef there. And I’m getting ahead of myself. Plus, I forgot to tell you about the red dress.”
“You wore the red dress! That’s a date dress.”
“I didn’t, but one of the… inhabitants laid it out on the bed before the meeting. I wore the green midi.”
“That looks great on you. So dinner.”
She went through it, felt the tension drop as Cleo laughed at the band names.
“I already like the chef—especially since she’s smart enough to like you.”
“I wouldn’t mind having her here now. I think this looks like it’s supposed to. I have to put this big slab of meat on top of everything. And pour in an entire bottle of red wine.”
“A whole bottle? I wish I was there now because I bet that’s going to be amazing. And because I wish I could tell you in person, Sonya, you had a date with the sexy lawyer.”
Because she had to admit she wished it had been, she shrugged. “He didn’t make any moves.”
“Did you?”
“No. But he may be a client, and I’m already sort of a client. And he’s being such a good friend. I don’t want to mess that up. And God, Cleo, he’s so attractive, so appealing, so just, well, yum. I don’t want him to be the rebound guy. He deserves better than rebound guy.”
“Sonya, you broke it off with the cheating asshole over six monthsago. Seven, over seven months ago. You’re way past rebound territory.”
“Do you think?”
“Absolutely. And you weren’t in love with the cheating asshole.”
“I thought I was. I was going to marry the cheating asshole.”
“Which would’ve been a mistake, because cheating asshole, and you didn’t love him. He didn’t break your heart, Son. He broke your trust and insulted you, and that’s way, way different. The client thing? Neither of you has a position of power over the other, so toss that one. If you want to make a move, make a move. If you want him to, let him know you’re open to it. You know how.”
“Maybe. First I have to get through tonight. It’s all in there now. All in the biggest pot in the universe of pots.”
“What happens now?”
“I put the lid on it, put it in the oven, and according to Winter MacTavish, I forget about it. For hours. Leave it alone. For hours.”
“Then your work is done.”
“Mostly. Mom gave me a recipe for biscuits, but I bailed there and bought Parker House rolls.”
“There’s no shame in the store-bought Parker House roll.”
“Good, because my nerves couldn’t take the biscuits. And Anna texted me earlier in the week. She’s bringing dessert. Thank tiny baby Jesus. And you, for holding my hand, virtually, through this process.”
“Next time, we’ll hold each other’s in person.”
“Wow, this is really heavy. I think I made enough to feed most of Poole’s Bay. And now it’s in there. Done. Don’t peek. Hours.”
“Now go for a walk with our sweet Yoda.”
“Good idea. Yard sale vibes heading your way.”
“Text me later, let me know how tonight goes. See you inside two weeks. Cleo, out!”
