I didn’t mind them poking around in my kitchen. There was nothing in there to be embarrassed about.
My favorite gossip magazine waited on my coffee table, woefully ignored. I plopped down on my comfy sofa to engross myself in mindless drivel. Satan jumped up beside me, purring. The magazine held little appeal, however, compared to the conversation and laughter coming from my kitchen.
“Dude, have you ever done dishes before? You can’t put those in the dishwasher.” Arch’s deep voice penetrated the silence in the living room.
Gray did something nonverbal because I heard a snort before he replied, “Shut up. Dishwasher commercials are misleading. It’s unlikely anything except the worst baked-on food needs to be pre-washed.”
The sound of the cabinets opening and closing covered up Wes’s response, but I soon heard Arch again. “I can’t believe we ate all of the lasagna. I feel bad. What if she wanted leftovers?”
It sounded like Gray threw the dishes in the sink, if the loud splash and Wes’s subsequent yelp were any indication. “Nah, this was supposed to be a date. You two are intruders.”
“Are you mad? She said she cleared it with you first.” Arch’s voice sounded a bit hesitant as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
Wes laughed. “Not at all, I’m messing with you. I’m saying she probably made this meal with the intention of having leftovers all week since it was originally the two of us.”
He nailed it. I had, in fact, looked forward to not cooking dinner, even if only for a few days. Finals week quickly approached, and any extra time I could get in studying was valuable. There was silence for a few moments with only the sounds of feet shuffling. Satan began to knead his paws on my lap.
The guys worked in companionable silence. My mind wandered and soon I imagined what it would be like to be in a serious relationship with each of the hunky guys. I searched for pros and cons with each, but I couldn’t get past the pros. Of course, there was the obvious con. I was attracted to all three of them.
“Why don’t we make her a casserole and bring it to her in the morning. That way, if she wants leftovers, she’ll have some.” Gray’s hushed voice brought me out of my musings. They were trying to stay quiet and surprise me, but sound carried in my apartment.
“Great idea.” I barely heard Arch’s muffled voice. “We need to find out if she likes Mexican. We can make her tortilla casserole.”
Gray sounded offended. “C’mon, man. That’s not Mexican food. It’s what Americansthinkis Mexican food.”
Wes replied defensively. “It’s still good.”
Gray sighed. “Yeah… It is.”
The dishwasher turned on, and I lost track of the conversation. I couldn’t wait to see what casserole concoction they came up with and how they surprised me with it.
When the dishes were done and the kitchen spick and span, the guys came out, and I got a hug from each of them. Hugging them in front of each other was awkward, especially when Wes kissed me on the cheek again. Once I waved them out the door, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and got into bed with a goofy smile on my face.
The next morning, as I heated a bagel, a knock rang through my apartment. There was a definite spring in my step as I ran across the living room. I’d already practiced my surprised face for when they dropped off the casserole.
I jerked open the door to find my stepbrother standing in the hall. “I havegotto start checking my security system!” I almost shouted at him.
“We need to talk, Ellie. Can I come in?” His thin voice pleaded.
“No.” There was nothing to say to him.
“Come on, Ellie. I want to talk to you. We can figure something out and settle this fiasco without any more messiness in court.”
Mitch was apologetic and weak. He’d always appeared weak. Weak chin, receding hairline. He was twenty-four and balding. I hoped he lost all his hair by thirty—but only on top. I sighed. “Fine. Come in, but make it quick. I need to get to class.” He walked past me smelling of the same overpriced cologne he wore in high school. The stench made me want to gag.
He’d been horrible to me growing up, but it was all underhanded and sneaky. Passive-aggressive horribleness. He’d never done anything bold, and physically, I should be safe enough to allow him in my home.
I let him in. Closing us up in the apartment together made me uncomfortable. I didn’t like being alone with him. “What do you want, Mitch?”
He walked past my couch to gaze out the window. Satan jumped off the couch as Mitch passed, growling and hissing. He hid under my dining table.
Gathering his words first, Mitch responded a moment later. I tried to keep my mind from straying to my past.
“Give it up, Ellie. I know you. You can’t keep this up.” His tone flipped from apologetic to domineering.
“What’re you talking about?” I didn’t want to know.
“The company. You can’t handle running a huge publishing company! You don’t know the first thing about being a CEO.”
