That charged awareness between us flares, sudden and electric.
The rest of the kitchen slips away. The shouting, the clatter of pans, knives striking boards, the hiss of burners. All of it recedes, until it’s little more than a distant hum.
There is only her.
Only the way she’s looking at me.
And the dangerous pull drawing us closer.
And—
“James, I need to talk with you.”
The spell breaks. I turn to find Angelina at my shoulder. It’s prep time, which is the only reason I’m tolerating someone other than my team in the kitchen.
And because it’s clear by the pinched expression on her face that she’s learned about my marriage.
She was a friend before we dated. And even though that was over months before Ember walked back into my life, it feels right to speak with her and clear the air.
Opposite me, Harper stiffens. She looks from Angelina to me, then back at her. Her forehead furrows. She tucks an imaginary strand of hairbehind her ear. She does that sometimes when she forgets that she has her hair up and under the chef’s skull cap. It’s a sure sign that she’s stressed.
“Could we talk, privately?” Angelina’s voice is soft.
“You can say what you want in front of my wife.” I nod at Harper.
“Of course.” She firms her mouth. “I was surprised you got married. I… I didn’t know that you were serious about anyone.”
“I met my wife five years ago. I never forgot her.”
Angelina’s face registers surprise.
"I married her because she's the most remarkable, funny, brave woman I've ever met. She makes me laugh even when I don't want to. She brings color and chaos into my gray world."
Being so open about my feelings makes me feel vulnerable, but it also feels like it’s right for my wife to hear me say it.
Angelina looks at Harper, then back at me. “I never stood a chance, I take it?"
I shake my head.
She laughs in a self-deprecating fashion. Then squares her shoulders and turns to Harper.
“I wish you the very best for the future.”
She looks back at me over her shoulder.
“Bye, James.”
She pivots and heads out.
In the silence which follows, Harper raises her eyebrows. “You didn’t have to say those things. There was no one else here to hear us.”
But I needed to hear myself say it aloud. The thought is confusing.
I deflect from answering and nod toward the plate of meat in front of her. “You done trimming that?”
“What?” She looks down at the plate. “Oh, yes, I’m done.”
“Let’s get this to the kitchen.” I lift the dish of fish filets I was working on, then head toward the kitchen.
