“And you,” Corey said, turning to Jamie, “look at Hank like he hung the fucking moon in the sky. Honestly, it made me a little jealous.”
“Jealous?” I exclaimed, taking a step closer and wrapping an arm around Jamie’s waist.
“Not of Jamie,” he said, with an unspokenyou idiotin his tone. “Of the fact you have someone who looks at you like that.” He shrugged. “Not very many people find that.”
“What do you mean?” I said. “You’ve got Rachel.”
He smiled wryly. “Yeah, but she doesn’t look at me that way. She never has.”
“Then maybe you should find someone who will,” I said gently.
He shook his head, dismissing me. He loved Rachel, and I suspected even if he knew she didn’t love him the way he wanted, he was willing to take her scraps. I’d been there before. It wasn’t exactly the same, since I didn’t love my ex, but I’d tried so damn hard and it had never been enough for her.
The oven timer went off. “I’ll be right back.”
I went to the kitchen, and all the dogs trailed after me, knowing food lay that way.
I nudged them away from the oven and pulled open the door. The mouth-watering scent of chicken and bread wafted out.
“No, Tramp,” I said sternly as he got too close. “Stay back.”
He gave a whine like he was being unfairly tortured, but he kept his distance. I grabbed a pair of hot pads from the drawer next to the stove and pulled out the pie, just as eager to slice into it as the dogs were.
It would need to cool a few minutes first, so I set it on top of the stove and broke the crust in a few places, letting more steam escape.
I closed the oven door. “How about we go outside, guys?”Lady’s ears perks up. I raised the pitch of my voice as I headed for the backdoor. “Outside?”
The dogs rushed for the open door and out into the backyard. I closed it behind them. Maybe we could eat in peace now.
I opened a bottle of the white wine I’d gotten to pair with the pot pie. Usually I stuck with beer, but somehow, wine made it feel more like a date.
When I returned to the living room, Corey was deep in conversation with Jamie.
“…love working with food, but it’s such a race there.”
Jamie was nodding along. “Well, how are your knife skills?”
Corey deflated. “Probably not great. But I’m a fast learner, I swear. I’ve picked up so much at The Diner already.”
“What are we talking about?” I asked as I extended a glass of wine to Jamie.
He took it from me with a smile and sipped. “Corey’s interested in a catering job.”
“You are?” I said, surprised. “But you haven’t been at The Diner that long.”
“I know,” he said with a shrug. “But The Diner is never going to lead anywhere.”
“And catering will?”
“I could learn how to be a real chef,” he said earnestly. “I could eventually run my business, you know?”
I scoffed. “You’ve worked at a diner a few weeks, Corey. That’s not exactly a passion for cooking.”
“Fuck you, man. You always tell me I need to care about my future, and when I do, you mock me.”
“I’m not mocking you,” I said.
“Whatever.” Corey shook his head. “I’m going to take my dinner in my room tonight. Enjoy your date.”
