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“You don’t want to have kids or anything?”
“I have the sweetest nephews and niece in the entire world. I watch them all the time. That’s the biggest downfall of moving, but…they’re getting older too, so they go to school, some have friends they see a lot, and I’m vying for their attention from all their other uncles and aunts.”
Sel could see it was hurting him, but he also saw a need for adventure. “You’ve been here a long time. I see it on your face. You need to experience more.”
“I guess we have that in common,” Binx said, his smile suddenly returning. “How about this? I’ll help you ditch the bodyguard before we get on the plane, and by the time he realizes what’s happening, you’re already in the air?”
His first instinct was right. Binx was going to be his hero. “I know we just met, but I think I love you already.”
After a curt nod, Binx said, “Don’t feel bad. It happens to everyone. I’m tremendously loveable.”
Sel discovered he loved Binx even more, as he watched the man create magic. Food magic, that was. He began with a duck, cutting it into pieces like he’d done it a million times, then he made rough pasta.
“What are you making? This looks Italian?”
“Well, it’s not. It’s part German. The pasta is, anyway. I’m not sure about the rest,” he said as he combined the olive oil and eggs into the flour. “The entire recipe is braised duck with spaetzle and mushroom ragout, which is sauce.”
“Ragu, I know.”
“R-a-g-o-u-t. It’s French. See, it’s a mishmash of techniques. I read it somewhere and made my own version. The duck is from a friend who goes hunting. He gets duck, turkey, and deer for us. Sometimes elk, but that’s a lottery license.”
“Spaetzle, that’s the German part,” Sel said, proud he knew about some of the dish. “We went to Germany when I was about ten. That’s one of the only things I liked when we’d eat out because, well, it’s pasta.”
After preparing the duck, he pulled out a pressure cooker. “I don’t have time to braise it right, so this will have to do.”
“You’re going to be great in Montana.”
“If my Sirs okay us moving there. They love it here. We all do, but, like you said, we’ve been here a long time. A lot of my friends, like Lonnie and Travis, lived in Denver for years. They owned a club there and everything. Lonnie was in the police department, too. They had a lot of adventures.”
Sel felt connected to Binx. Some people yearned for travel, seeing and doing things that weren’t the same old routine. Sel saw it in Binx’s eyes the moment he started talking about the offer. He wanted it badly.
“It’s nice, you know? To have a home to come back to. My parents, they’ve kept the same house in Los Angeles since I was a little kid. My mom said it was important to have a home you knew, that kept your memories, to come home to even when you’re grown.”
Binx sighed sweetly even as his hand beat the crap out of the dough. “You’re very sweet. I can’t believe you’re going to be a gangster.”
“Binx, I told you, it’s different. Look at what my uncle’s doing in Montana.”
In a conspiratorial whisper, he asked, “A money-laundering caper?”
Sel laughed out loud as he shook his head. “You watch too many mob movies.”
“Here is my theory of Robert De Niro. When he was young, he looked like the perfect combination of my two Sirs.”
Sel didn’t see it, but he wouldn’t yuck Binx’s yum. “Could be, yeah.”
“I always thought they could be in the mob, you know? The preacher, you know, dresses in a black shirt and collar, but in his bible, there is a secret compartment where he keeps a gun, and he shoots up the opposing mob guys that come to the church after their enemies.”
Sel was having the best time with Binx. He truly would be a great addition to the ranch.
“And then, the mob doctor makes a ton of cash by fixing up bullet wounds so the gangsters can avoid the hospitals that ask too many questions.”
The pressure cooker started as Sel kept laughing. “You could write movies.”
“I really could. I think I’d be great at it, but I don’t have the time. I have two men to look after, and now, I might even have a job.” He leaned over the counter and dreamily sighed. “My own kitchen. Barking orders at the waitstaff, but not too mean, you know? I don’t enjoy being mean.”
That was obvious. Binx was the type that always wanted to see people smile. Like it was his life’s work, making smiles. Selestino had a feeling that’s what had driven him to learn to cook like he did. Seeing people eating and enjoying their meals.
“Did you always cook?”
