Eli made a c’mere motion with his fingers. She handed over the paper plate.
Taking his time, he smoothed the cheese so it didn’t all flop down one side. Then, he added sliced black olives, a dollop of sour cream, and finished with a dusting of some kind of white stuff.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Cotija. Now, it’s ready to eat.” He slipped the plate back into her waiting hand.
She started to say something about how he was an artist, but she stopped herself. He was a professional, and he probably didn’t think of himself like that.
“I always thought you’d open a restaurant,” she said instead. “I mean, catering is great, but I figured you’d have a whole chain and be on one of those cooking shows.”
“Television? No. Restaurant? Yes.” He winked at her.
“Serious?” she asked. “When?”
“Catering pays the bills. Lower overhead, all that. I’ve been saving for a while.”
The way his gaze went a bit listless as he spoke told her it’d been more than just a while.
“I can’t believe you had time to make all this. I barely had time to get rejected by the Four Seasons, American Express, and my parents.” She stabbed a fork into her tortilla and chicken, raising it to her lips.
“Don’t be too impressed. I keep a stash in the freezer for times when I’m too tired to start from scratch.”
Lothario thumped his three-good-legged way into the kitchen.
Marlee sampled the forkful of goodness. Holy crap. If this is what Eli kept in his freezer, she was using hers wrong all these years. She let the tastes meld together on her tongue, closed her eyes, and experienced the flavors. “This is amazing.”
She opened her eyes to find Eli staring at her, his lips parted.
He wasn’t moving.
“Sorry.” She licked at her lips. “I got carried away. Should we sit?”
“Yeah.” Eli seemed to shake off whatever had caught his attention. Plate in hand, he headed to the coffee table and sofa.
Sure, he didn’t have a kitchen table. And they ate off paper plates. None of that mattered when he could cook up a masterpiece like this.
Plate in his lap, he dug in.
Marlee shifted and balanced her plate on her knees. “I need a job.”
“You’re not going back to the office?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I think distance from Scotty and my parents might be best until the divorce goes through. They know my weaknesses. They’ll figure out a way to get me to do what they want.” They always did.
But not this time.
“I can ask around. Brek could probably use another waitress over at the bar,” Eli suggested.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do you have any need for an art history major with minor event planning experience and a super cute dog?”
“When you put it like that, how could I possibly say no?” he replied. “But I’m all staffed up right now.”
“You think Brek’s waitresses make good tips?” She could waitress. It could be fun. She’d get to chat with people and hang out where there was live music.
He slid his gaze over her. Slowly. Like he was savoring a bite of a culinary masterpiece. Something flickered in his eyes. “I can probably come up with something in the kitchen.”
“You just said you don’t need me.”
