“The pasta,” she says, eyes wide.
We scramble. The pot is empty of water and full of smoke and regret. The sauce on low has turned the color of a bad idea. I pull it off the burner and turn the knob and laugh until it hurts. She’s laughing too, hand over her mouth.
Then the smoke alarm proves it still works. We both jump. I’ve destroyed enough hotel rooms to know the drill. I grab a towel and fan the sensor. I flip the bathroom fan on and prop the door.
The hotel phone rings anyway. I answer with the voice I use for security.
“Everything okay up there, Ms. Navarro?”
“Burnt pot on the stove set off the alarm,” I say, honest enough. “No fire. Sorry.”
“Please put Ms. Navarro on the phone.”
Right. Not my suite. I pass her the phone, but I hear them on the other end when she answers. “We’re sending someone to confirm.”
“Copy,” I say. I hang up and look at her. She’s flushed and trying not to die of embarrassment. “Happens all the time. Get dressed quick?—”
There’s a knock. Damn, they’re fast.
I pull my shirt on and pants, check she’s dressed, and open the door a crack. Two staffers, one with a fire extinguisher, one with a checklist. I let them in the threshold and point at the fan and the off stove, and the sad pasta.
They take a breath like they wanted drama and got pasta instead. They ask if we need housekeeping. I say no, thank them, and close the door.
Lou leans on the counter and covers her face. “I can’t believe we did that.”
“We made dinner. Well, we made a mess. It happens.”
She peeks at me and starts laughing again. “We made love on a counter and burned dinner.”
“Was that so bad?”
“No. Except wasting food. I hate wasting food.”
“We should go get fries somewhere.”
She pulls me close by the pocket and kisses me. “I love you.”
“If that’s what I get for suggesting fries, what do I get for suggesting a whole meal?”
She laughs and kisses me again. “Let me put on real clothes and we’ll get those fries.”
“Deal.”
We get to a diner and sit on the same side of the booth because I can’t stop touching her. I put my nose in her hair because it smells like soap and garlic now. I want to tell her about Troy and the arrest and the tape and Quincy’s confession and the way my hands shook when I fired a man who thinks he made us. I don’t. Not tonight. Tonight I want one more normal.
“Teach me to cook.”
“You’ll burn something.”
“I’ll turn off the smoke alarm faster next time.”
She kisses me again, and the room goes silent.
29
LOU
We dobreakfast in the big suite because none of us wants the hotel restaurant today. Room service trays, coffee, a pile of toast Houston keeps buttering like it’s his job. Salem looks like he slept hard for once. Pretty sure I wore him out last night. Knox is in a black tee and jeans, already on his second cup. I sit on the end of the couch with my laptop closed.
