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“I know, I know”—she waves me off—“you don’t like me buying you things because I get paid peanuts at that beauty shop. It’s not … fair or whatever—”
“Or gentlemanly,” I interject. “I invited you over here. I should be buying you wine, not the other way around.”
“Well, I wanted to do something nice for you for once. You pulled a twenty-four-hour shift and saved those kids!”
I wish I could wrap my arms around her and hold her so tightly that nothing could ever break us apart. “Emmy, why are you so wonderful?”
“I’m not. Come on. You’re my best friend…” she says before sitting down on the couch. “Is the food here yet?”
“Yes. I ordered a bunch of stuff, so we could pig out.” I grin and Emmy starts laughing. “I have Pad Thai, lobster ravioli, shrimp scampi, oysters in champagne sauce, butter rolls—our favorite—and, of course, Black Forest Cake. Your favorite!”
“Goodness, you spoil me!” she exclaims and inhales the air, attempting to smell the food all the way from the living room.
“Me? Spoil you? Hardly. What about you with these bottles of wine?” I laugh, taking the bottles.
She follows me into the kitchen and dives straight into the cake, much like she always does. Her small and delicate fingers dip into the whipped cream, straight down to the chocolate ganache. I watch as she thrusts her fingers into her mouth, licking off the sweet icing.
I’m mesmerized by the movements of her face, the shape of her lips, the red lipstick perfectly capturing that moment. Something inside me stirs, like an animal that’s been lying dormant for the longest time.
“… staring at?”
I snap out of my trance as I realize that she’s asking me a question while I have been busy staring at her licking the cake frosting off her fingers. “Hmm? What? What were you saying?”
“Why are you staring at me like that? Oh, is it because I put my fingers in the cake? Okay, fine, I’ll use a fork, doctor.” She rolls her eyes, acknowledging my disdain for germs.
“Yes … I was. Yes. Why don’t you cut me a piece as well, while you’re at it, and I’ll get these bottles of wine open to let them breathe.”
“When did we start drinking wine? And when did we start letting it breathe?” she asks me while she cuts the cake.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know… we used to drink cheap beer straight out of the can, and shove hands full of popcorn in our mouths at the movie theater. When did we become so fancy?”
I try to collect my thoughts long enough to answer her. “Well, back then we were a little younger, and we didn’t have as much money as we do today.”
“I’m assuming by ‘we’ you mean you.” She laughs. “You’re the fancy doctor, after all.”
“You know that everything I have is yours, Emmy.”
She doesn’t answer.
Instead, she cuts two slices of cake and hands me one of the plates.
We go back to the living room and sit comfortably on the couch, looking out of the ceiling-to-floor windows of my penthouse. The Boston skyline is growing dimmer by the minute, but the June heat is relentless.
She takes off her shoes and curls up on the leather couch. I watch as her sundress travels up her thigh but try to focus on our conversation. “So, what movie should we watch tonight?”
“How about we watch that romantic comedy you love making fun of?” she suggests playfully, taking a sip of wine.
I chuckle, knowing exactly which movie she’s referring to. “Oh, you mean the one with the cheesy lines and predictable plot? Sure, why not? It’s always good for a laugh.”
We settle on the couch, enjoying our food and wine as the movie plays on the screen.
After we clear our plates, Emmy snuggles closer, resting her head on my shoulder. I feel a rush of warmth in my chest at her proximity, and the easy way we fit together.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as the movie unfolds before us. Her hair tickles my chin, and the soft scent of her eucalyptus shampoo lingers in the air. I try to focus on the screen, on the exaggerated gestures of the actors and the melodramatic music, but it’s impossible with Emmy so close to me.
I can’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the way the soft light from the screen dances on her features, highlighting the contours of her cheekbones, illuminating every freckle on her nose. I love the way her eyelashes flutter against her cheek when she laughs at a particularly cheesy line.
