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CHAPTER10
CALISTA
I’ve barely arrivedhome when my neighbor, Lucy texts me.
Drinks on the porch in fifteen?
Yeah, why not? I could use a drink or two after this weekend.
Sounds good but make it thirty.
Are you making me something delicious?
I smile. We’ve been neighbors long enough for her to realize I never show up for drinks at her place without bringing food. Hey, if she’s supplying the margaritas, it’s the least I can do.
Rustling through my fridge, I pull out the ingredients for crab dip. I preheat the oven before I measure and mix everything together. I spread the mixture into a glass dish and place it in the oven.
While it cooks, I arrange mini rye bagel chips, tortilla chips, buttery crackers, and freshly sliced focaccia bread on a tray. Setting it aside, I remove the pins from the knot on top of my head as I wander toward my bedroom. My heavy locks tumble down the middle of my back, eliciting a sigh of relief from me. Dropping the hair pins on my dresser, I massage my scalp with my fingertips. One of the downsides of being a chef is wearing my hair up all the time. My only other option would be to wear a chef’s hat, but for me, that’s not practical. Especially when I do the cooking in my own kitchen. This weekend at Ryder’s was an anomaly for me.
Stripping off my pants and shirt, I drop them into the laundry hamper in the corner of my bedroom. I slip on a red t-shirt that says “No whisk, No reward” and tug on a pair of beater shorts that saw better days back in college.
Glancing at my reflection, I slowly run my brush through my hair and take in my sad eyes. The woman looking back isn’t me. I won’t allow myself to dwell on what ifs. I can’t be moping around over a man I met yesterday. Even if it feels like I’ve known him much longer.
Returning to the kitchen, I remove the dip from the oven and set the oval glass dish in the middle of the tray. I shove my keys and phone into my pocket and slip flip flops on my feet before picking up the food. Holding on to both ends of the rectangular tray, I make my way next door to Lucy’s. Her house is bigger than mine and has a fantastic front porch to sit on.
“Hey, lover,” she calls out as I mosey up the front walkway. “I thought you’d never get here.”
In my periphery I notice our creepy neighbor, Les, lurking in his driveway, so I make sure to sound convincing when I answer Lucy. “How’s my sexy little kitten been?” I barely get the words out without laughing, but I avoid ruining our ruse by biting the inside of my lower lip hard enough to leave a metallic taste in my mouth.
I march up the porch stairs and set the tray on the wicker coffee table before lowering down next to Lucy on the couch. She grabs my face between her hands. “Pucker up, lover,” she says, pulling my face toward hers. She stops when there’s an inch between our mouths, and we act like we’re playing tonsil hockey for Les’s benefit. With the view of the back of my head, he’s none the wiser. It doesn’t hurt that we’re damn convincing.
“You’re the best non-kisser I’ve ever encountered,” she jokes.
“You’re the same for me,” I say. “Is he still lurking?”
Lucy sits back and even goes so far as to wipe under her bottom lip with a knuckle.
“Nice one,” I say.
“Thanks.” She cranes her neck, searching for Les. “The fox has left the henhouse.”
I snort. “I’m surprised he didn’t hang around.”
“He’s probably wanking it as we speak,” she says.
“Oh gross. Don’t tell me that, or I might have to break up with you.”
“You can’t. Then he’ll ask me out again. You’re my only hope.”
“You need a big, burly boyfriend to scare the bejesus out of him.”
“Yeah, I need one of those for a lot more than scaring our creepy neighbor. Where do you suppose I can find one?” she asks, pouring the tequila-loaded beverage into two glasses.
“I can’t help you find a man, but if it’s any consolation, I brought the crab dip you love so much.”
“Who needs a man when I have you?” she jokes.
I shrug. “If you’re okay with no sex, I’m sure we can make it work.”
