“Let’s just freeze it, okay?” Noah checked his nails and picked at his shirt. “I’ve had enough home ec shit for one day.” He threw the rag into the sink. “How about we get into those mimosas, huh?”
“Knock yourself out.” Crybaby struck Noah as weirdly disappointed, but she didn’t say anything even when she brought him a glass. She did, however, slam it down on the counter in front of him.
“Thank you.” Noah flinched and reached for the pitcher to serve himself.
Crybaby washed her hands and set about cleaning the mess from the counter. She was quiet, and that made Noah drink faster.
He did not want the crazy lady who had killed lots of people to be angry with him.
“Thank you for showing me all that,” Noah said earnestly. “Maybe, uh… tomorrow you can help me figure out how to make a sauce to go with it?”
“Maybe.” Crybaby’s hard face softened.
“You know. ’Cause we got the party tonight with DJ Quigs and all, uh, I don’t wanna miss it. But tomorrow for sure.”
“Carbone always made this fuckin’ killer Bolognese sauce.” Junior smiled sadly. “You ’member, Crybaby?”
“Yeah.” Crybaby adjusted her vest. “Never could eat just one plate. That was good shit.”
“Do you know how to make that?” Noah asked. “What is it? Bologna?”
“No, yous fuckin’ dumbass.” Junior scoffed. “It’sBolognese. It’s fuckin’ Italian for ‘lots of meat’, okay? And yeah, I knows how to make it. I know all Carbone’s fuckin’ recipes.”
“You know Scout is coming by tomorrow with her tiramisu for our guests of honor.” Crybaby smiled again. “Maybe you and Noah could make Carbone’s sauce to go with the pasta, huh?”
“Or just Junior,” Noah mumbled.
“No, no, that’ll be fuckin’ great!” Junior grinned. “Me and you, Crisco! Cookin’ for fuckin’ mobster royalty!”
“Wow. I can’t wait.” Noah chugged the mimosa and poured another.
“Can’t wait for what?” Alistair asked politely, leaning in the doorframe with a brown shopping bag tucked under his arm and a sly smile.
Oh, thank God.
The thump in Noah’s chest was new, but he was just glad Alistair was here to rescue him from his impromptu cooking lessons. That’s all it was.
“I’m gonna teach Crisco how to makes a Bolognese to go withs the fancy pasta Crybaby taught him to do!” Junior looked proud.
“I half expected to find you out by the pool, drunk and shirtless.” Alistair breezed over to kiss Noah’s cheek. “This is a pleasant surprise. I bet you looked quite fetching in your apron.”
Ah, there was that damn thump again.
Noah smiled. “That’s a crap compliment, but I’ll take it.”
“All is well?” Alistair touched Noah’s chin, thumbing over his lower lip.
“Yeah. We’re good.”
Alistair leaned in. “New cologne?”
“Yeah.” Noah grinned. “You like it?”
“I do.” Alistair glanced at Crybaby and Junior. “How is everything?”
“Party is fine,” Crybaby replied. “Erasmus checked all the booze, and he’s watching the bar. Supposed to be a hell of a crowd. Mace has got our volunteers coming by to help us keep watch over everything.”
“Splendid. Thank you.”
