Frankie could relate. “And the frozen foods weren’t filling enough.”
“Exactly. I started out learning the basics, like how to make pasta from a box, and worked my way up to meats.”
“Impressive.”
He shrugged. “Not really. I’d say I was just motivated. I hate wasting food, so it was an incentive for me to make it work.”
Frankie took a bite. “So good.”
“Thanks.” He sampled his own chicken. “It’s a little dry.”
“I can’t tell, but then again, I’m easy to please. You and I might have to swap a couple recipes. Dad and I always eat the same old stuff. It would be nice to have a couple new things to rotate into the menu.” She sighed. “Dad’s picky about food. He hates fruits and veggies and won’t eat about three-quarters of the options on the list his doctor gave him.”
“Deal.” He walked over to the sink and filled a glass with water. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. You can cook the same dish over and over; all you have to do is find the right sauce or spices to change the flavor.”
Frankie opened her notebook and turned it to a blank page. “Wait, I need to write this down.”
The more time she spent in Charlie’s company, the more she liked him. When he smiled at her, butterflies fluttered their wings in her stomach. There was no denying that physically, her body responded to Charlie in ways that frightened her.
I can’t fall for my boss, and I especially can’t fall for somebody I skate with. I have to keep Charlie at arm’s length. I have to focus on what really matters—Dad. Maybe I can try distancing myself from him a little more. Yeah, that could work. I hope.
CHAPTER 12
Two weeks later, Frankie lay awake on the couch. Her alarm would go off at any moment. As much as she wanted to stay nestled under the warmth of her covers for several more hours, she knew it wasn’t going to happen. It felt as if she had only just laid down to go to sleep. How could it already be almost two-thirty in the morning?
A moment later, her phone chimed. Groaning, she swiped to turn it off and sat up, rubbing her eyes. At least today was Thursday. She wouldn’t have to worry about coaching until eight tonight. She loved her skating school students, but despised the idea of only getting a couple hours of sleep. She didn’t know how Charlie had managed to function on so little sleep for so long. Just doing it once a week was a struggle.
Wrapping her blanket around her like a cape, she shuffled over to the kitchen, poured herself a cup of the coffee she’d brewed last night, and stuck it in the microwave. The machine hummed to life with an electric buzz. Pulling open the refrigerator, she found her bowl of vanilla yogurt topped with strawberries, blueberries, and granola and set it down on the table just as the microwave chirped.
Over the last two weeks, she’d gotten her morning routine down to an exact science of twenty minutes. It took her ten minutes to eat and scroll through the social media apps on her phone, five minutes to get dressed, three minutes to wash her face, throw her hair into a bun, and brush her teeth, and two minutes to write a note to her dad letting him know what was for breakfast and that she loved him. By three a.m., she would be out the door and on her way to the rink.
As Frankie pulled into a parking spot parallel to Charlie’s truck, she took out her phone and sent him a text message.
Frankie:I’m here.
Three dots blinked. He was typing.
Charlie:On my way.
Even though she felt safe walking across the well-lit parking lot, he had made it abundantly clear that she should always wait in her car with the doors locked until he arrived to escort her inside. She’d given up trying to change his mind.
Tap. Tap. Tap.Charlie rapped his knuckles against her window and waved, pointing to a coffee.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he called out in a chipper voice. “Are we ready to skate this morning?”
She opened the driver’s door, and he presented her with the caffeinated beverage. She clutched it to her chest. It was still hot.
“Thank you,” she grunted. “Not yet, but I will be.” She took a long swig. It was sweet, not like the coffee she’d had at home. This had vanilla creamer in it. She smacked her lips together. “The barista got the ratio perfect this morning.”
“Yes! Go me.” Charlie pumped his fist. “What are you going to do for warm-up? Jump rope? The elliptical? Stationary bike?”
“I need to wake up, so a jog around the rink? The cold air should do the trick.”
Charlie held the door open to their storage room turned private locker room. “I’ll join you.”
“Aren’t you already warm from your pre-skate gym session?” She raised an eyebrow and slid her coat off her shoulders, hanging it up on one of the metal pegs lining the wall.
“I need the extra cardio.”
