Fucked in the headNico Giannuzzi.
Hard as fuckNico Giannuzzi.
With that, I creep away like an ashamed fuckin’ Labrador, tail and erection between my legs.
From: [email protected]
Thank you, Chef. That helped me more than you’ll ever know. And if I ever get brave enough to say nice things out loud, I hope I say them half as well as you did.
I’d like to think that I’m fighting for something better, but right now, I’m just fighting to keep my head above water.
From: [email protected]
Anytime. Don’t be afraid. Open up and make everyone listen. Be brave and soft and loud and aggressively Ali.
People will want to hear your voice. I know I do.
Annie is leaning against the passenger-side door when I walk outside in the morning.
I approach slowly, not sure what Annie adjective I’m going to get this morning. I don’t have the energy forhissing and spittingAnnie, but will be able to make do withgrumpy.
“Morning,” she grunts.
Grumpy Annie I can work with, especially if I can’t look her in the eye after last night. “Hey.”
Suddenly, in the span of two blinks, she’s in my space and thrusting two things into my hands. “Here,” she mumbles, before scurrying away and into the passenger seat of the car.
I stand there a little confused, now holding a large book and a cup, its liquid sloshed over and onto my hand because of the force of Annie’s assault. “What is this?”
She shrugs, busying herself with the books at her feet.
Oh boy. This is some good shit. “Annie,” I press.
She ignores me.
I plant my feet, trying but failing to smother a grin. “Did you get megifts?”
“No.”
“Then what is this?”
She opens a book at random and begins flipping through it. “I was already in town getting coffee for myself, and I stopped in this adorable bookstore to look around after… so I just…” She waves a hand in a way that’s probably meant to convey nonchalance. “Got some random shit,” she finishes.
Fuck it. I’m grinning from ear-to-fuckin’-ear. “This random, gift-like shit? I’m gonna look this gift horse right in its damn mouth. You ready?” I taste the drink. “A tasty, probably overpriced latte and...” I look down at the book. My smile grows even wider. “A cookbook that focuses on the science of cooking.”
“A total coincidence,” she mumbles.
“A coincidental purchase of a book related to my entire life’s work.”
“It was being displayed on the counter next to the register. Saw it while I was paying.”
“This book published ten years ago was being displayed on the counter next to the register?”
She finally looks at me. “You know this book?”
