Sis can’t cook.
If I were in her shoes, and I was trying to make my ‘so-called’ man’s ex jealous, I’d be in that kitchen like it was a Top Chef finale.
The way to a man’s heart might not always be food, but it’s definitely a shortcut most of us smart ones take.
A slow smirk crept up my face.
I tilted my head sweetly toward Isis. “You should cook.”
She blinked, taken by surprise. “Huh?”
“Breakfast, I meant. If you do breakfast, I’ll handle dinner,” I truthfully offered.
“Oh… okay. What does everybody want?”
Bryce shrugged. “Whatever. I’m easy.”
Adrian grinned. “Shid… well, I’m alil’picky. Let me get a T-bone steak,medium, not medium-well, ‘cause I still want it tomooa little. Add on some grits, a side of scrambled eggs with pepperjack,not cheddar, two salmon croquettes with the edges crisp but not burnt, and a lil’ peach cobbler… but only if the crust is thick and the peaches ain’t from no can. And if y’all got a mimosa, I’ll take that too.”
I looked at Adrian, wondering if he had a clone who decided to take over for the trip.
Surely this can’t be the same man who used to double-check my tire pressure before I drove home from work, that I’ve been sexing senseless, and staying on the phone with him ’til damn near sunrise on some nights, talking about dreams, goals, and that childhood trauma he swore nobody else understood. When did he trade in perfect-man consistency for whatever this new version was? This version is out here making requests like we’re at a five-star brunch, he got a personal concierge, and an 850 credit score with a Black card to match.
“Adrian, be serious. Aside from the eggs and grits, we didn’t bringanyof that other stuff.”
He had the nerve to shrug and gesture toward Bryce and Isis. “Maybetheydid. But I’m manifesting my meal, girl. Closed mouths don’t get fed.”
Open ones don’t either if they full of bullshit,I wanted to say.
What actually came out was a tight-lipped smile, but in my head?
Nigga, you didn’t contribute to a single grocery item in this damn cabin. Be lucky if you get a bottled water and half a pancake crust.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, let’s all try to be ononeaccord. Look, can you just make some eggs, bacon, grits, and pancakes, well, waffles for Bryce? He loves those,” I taunted.
I glanced over at Bryce, who didn’t even bother to hide his satisfied smirk.
“Is that cool with everyone?” I asked, verifying.
Adrian groaned. “Hell yeah. I’ll take whatever’s on the menu. Hell, I’ll eat drywall at this point. I’m just hungry.”
The desperation in his voice made it clear he was ready to dive into anything that resembled food.
Damn right you will. You already chewing through your welcome.
Bryce nodded in response.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll stick to the basics… something easy to whip up. I mean…” I paused, lacing my fingers under my chin, letting my sentence dangle like bait. “Unless youcan’t.”
Isis snatched her ponytail tighter as if it would give her the strength she needed.
“Girl, please! Watch me work!” she chirped, her voice too chipper as she turned and started toward the kitchen with a newfound determination, treating that modest breakfast menu as if it was a stroll through a sunny park. Little did she know, I was about to hit her with a culinary challenge that would make even the most seasoned chef sweat.
“Oh, but wait!” I called out, just as she reached the threshold, causing her to stop dead in her tracks.
Isis turned slowly, already sensing the bullshit.
“I would like my pancakes to be slightly thick and filled with both blueberries and strawberries—you know, not too fluffy, not too flat... just like that perfect in-between. For my eggs, I prefer them soft and lightly scrambled, with melted cheese that oozes just right, and I sprinkle them with some freshly chopped chives for that pop of flavor. As for my grits, I want them rich and creamy, enhanced with alusciousgarlic butter that adds a savory depth; none of that bland, plain mess, thank you. Last but not least, my bacon. Please make sure it’s crisp… but not overlydry. Like, if it cracks too easily, you’ve gone too far, sis. Just the right amount of crunch is what I’m after to complement the rest of my five-star breakfast instructions.”
