“Okay, okay, let me see if I can help.” Nudging me aside, she takes the spatula from me and scrapes the burnt bits from the bottom of my pan, adding in a little broth.
“That doesn’t look better,” I groan, assessing her progress.
“I doubt it’s salvageable,” Chef’s voice announces from directly behind us, and we both startle with a squeal.
“Jesus,” Jade gasps, clutching her chest. “How are you so stealthy?”
Chef harrumphs, turning up his nose as he heads toward the more promising students at the next table over.
I drop my voice to mutter, “That man is scary. How does he move so silently?”
“Definitely a spy,” Jade answers, watching him closely, her eyes narrowed. “You don’t move that quietly without professional training. I bet this whole place is a front.”
I hum in agreement and poke at the concoction in my pot. He’s right. There really is no saving this chicken. Sighing, I pick out the pieces, throwing them in the trash while Chef’s back is turned. I should be vegetarian anyway. If I can’t properly cook meat, maybe that's my sign I shouldn’t be eating it at all. Jade glances over, noticing what I’m doing, and grins.
“Should we bail?” she asks, hopefully. “I don’t think I want to eat a vegetable pie. Plus, I’m enjoying our trend of starting an activity and then just going drinking instead.”
“Same, honestly.” I square my shoulders and glance at Chef. “Wait until his back is turned and let’s book it?” I whisper conspiratorially.
We’re out the door and halfway across the street before he starts yelling. We’re probably making a bad name for ourselves around town at this rate, but by the time our ride-share drops us off at Twin Pines, we’ve forgotten all about our disastrous cooking class.
It’s busier than it was the last time we were here, the bar nearly full when we slide into two open barstools. Along with Seamus, there’s another bartender today, helping to take orders.
“Hey, Seamus,” I greet him with a wave.
He glances over at us and grins. “Looks like you’ve decided to become regulars again,” he says. “Fantastic! Two dirty martinis?”
“I think we’ll do a bottle of wine today. Red?” I ask Jade.
“Red,” she agrees, nodding.
“We have a Pinot Noir I’m sure you’ll love,” Seamus informs us, already moving across the bar to grab it, knowing we’re not about to turn down one of his recommendations.
The moment he’s out of earshot, Jade turns to me. “Okay, spill. Why do you look like someone kicked your dog?”
“I don’t have a dog,” I mutter, not wanting to get into it. I finally got my mind off seeing Ash with Alec’s wife, and the last thing I want to do is remember it. “And if someone kicked Bea, I think I might murder them.”
“Obviously,” Jade agrees. Seamus returns with two glasses and a bottle of red, opening it for us. “But I canimaginewhat you would look like if youdidhave a dog, and someonedidkick it. And that’s how I imagine you looking right now.”
“What are we imagining Sydney doing?” Seamus quips. “Loop me in. I’d love to imagine her too.”
I scowl at him. “Quit it. You’re both incorrigible. Can I just have my wine, please and thank you?”
“Of course, beautiful.” He fills our glasses, leaving the bottle when he heads over to take orders from another group.
“God, that man could not want you more.” Jade laughs, clinking her glass against mine. “Was he always this blatantly obvious with his flirting, or is this new?”
“Shut up, he wasn’t flirting with me. He’s just being…English,” I say.
“Ah, yes, the English, renowned flirtsof the western world.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, he’sIrish. The name should have been a dead giveaway.”
Oh, right.
“And how is it you had four men fall madly in love with you and youstillcan’t see when a man is interested in you?” Jade studies me, tilting her head. “What is it like to live in that delusional head of yours? Is it peaceful?”
“They’re not in love with me. They never were,” I mutter. “I don’t think they ever really cared about me at all.”
“What are you talking about?” Jade asks, perplexed.
