Page 28 of The Mr. Right Checklist

“I guess what Chuck said is true—that you don’t like to get your hands dirty?”

My brother is going to pay for that. “No, that’s not true.”

“Oh. Well, it tastes a whole lot better when you pick it up and eat it.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Sure it does. Go on and eat that piece you’re cutting off.”

I eat it, and it’s the best damn fried chicken I’ve ever had. The coating is crisp, tangy, and spicy, and the meat is juicy. “It’s perfect.”

She picks up a chicken leg from her plate and waves it at me. “Now try it like this.” She takes a big bite. “Mm. My mama’s recipe is the best,” she says with a cheek full of chicken. “Go on. Give it a try.”

I pick up the chicken leg and take a bite. She’s onto something. The tanginess is sharper, the spices more potent, and the meat tastes infused with them. Now I’m shaking my chicken leg at her. “How is this possible?”

“I told you! The juices and spices get all up in your gums and teeth and tongue, and it magnifies the flavors. There’s nothing better.” She takes another bite.

“If you handle your meeting with Arjun as well as you cook, you’ll sign him in no time.”

“I hope so. He’s such a nice guy. He’s a computer scientist, and his girlfriend, Maura, is a nurse. They’ve been dating for four years, and he’s so in love with her, I could hear it in his voice.”

“That’s a good thing, since he’s proposing.”

“They sound like a great couple. She works long shifts sometimes, and you know what he does? He brings her dinner and eats with her, even if she can only sit down for fifteen minutes, so she doesn’t have to eat alone. How romantic is that?”

“Maybe you should add that to your Mr. Right Checklist.”

“That’s a great idea.” As we eat, she tells me more about her phone conversation with Arjun. She’s animated and enthusiastic and, at times, also a little dreamy eyed. “I checked out his social pages, and there are a million pictures of him and Maura going back several years. I also had my website guy add a place on the contact form for the details you suggested and for their social links so I can check them out ahead of time.”

“Now you’re thinking like a businesswoman.”

She beams. “I have a great mentor.” She leans against my side. “Don’t get upset, but I did a little research on you, too.”

“Why would I get upset? Safety first.”

“Good.” She eats some mashed potatoes. “Your bio on the Beckwith site makes you sound very smart, which I’m sure you are, but you should’ve smiled in the picture. You have a great smile, and it makes you look less like Grumpy Gus and more like Friendly Fletch. But you have no social pages. What’s up with that?”

I don’t think anyone would describe me as Friendly Fletch. “I’m a private guy. I don’t need people like Cecilia stalking me online, too.”

“That makes sense. When I couldn’t find your socials, I looked for Chuck’s and Jimmy’s.”

Great . . .

“Chuck’s are private, so I couldn’t see them. But Jimmy’s accounts are public and loaded with great pictures of him and a gorgeous woman named Beth Peterson. She was tagged in the pictures. I assume she’s his fiancée, since they’re kissing in most of the pictures.”

“She is.”

“They look happy together. Do you like her?”

“Yeah. We’ve known her all our lives. She’s great.”

“That’s good. It would stink if you didn’t like her. I went to school with a girl back home whose brother married an awful woman, and now she barely sees him. Anyway, Jimmy had tons of pictures of you and your family. Why didn’t you tell me you like to ski and fish?”

“Why would I?”

“Because we’re friends, and friends share things. I’m going to a wedding with you, and I feel like I don’t even know you.”

I find myself leaning into her. “We did just meet.”