Once everyone had pushed their plates back, Elizabeth asked, “How is it you’re not working in a fancy restaurant?”
I knew she meant it as a compliment, so I offered some insight into my prospects. “The other day, I talked to a guy who wondered if I’d be interested in opening a new restaurant on Main Street with him.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting,” Chelsea said.
“I miss running a kitchen, but I don’t know if I’m cut out to bea businessman.” I sighed. “The market gives me some freedom, but they control almost every aspect of what I make. I get paid, so I shouldn’t complain, but there has to be more to life.”
Three heads nodded like I was preaching to the choir. All of us were defined by our work, chasing part-time jobs or ill-fitting careers to maintain a lifestyle.
Evan said, “Sometimes it feels like treading water.”
Elizabeth shot him a quizzical glance. “But you’re doing what you love, right?”
“I’m doing what I’m trained to do. I know it sounds dumb, but I’d love to find a quieter job. There’s a lot of stress to being on-air—without stroking a green-screen cock at that. And honestly, I don’t like being a public figure.”
As he spoke, Elizabeth’s eyes softened. “I didn’t know that.” She laid her arm on the table, adjacent to his, so close she was nearly brushing his hand. “What would you rather be doing?”
He extended his index finger and linked it with hers. She curled hers in return. “Wouldn’t it be nice to retire to a cottage somewhere—up in the mountains or in the woods—and do whatever with your time?” He shook his head. “Maybe one day.”
Elizabeth hummed in agreement. “If I could write all day long with no other cares in the world, I would, and yet I also dream of a 401k and a dental insurance plan and paid time off.”
“I dream of seeing the world.” Chelsea sighed.
“Of buying a house,” Evan added.
“Of being in charge,” I threw in.
“Of waking up with a partner who isn’t named Chelsea.” Elizabeth laughed.
Chelsea smacked her, but I chuckled. “Some of us have different goals.”
Evan stretched and stood up to peer out the front window. “Guys. Check it out.”
The snow falling during our dinner blanketed the ground. Thewind blew it around in wisps of soft cotton candy, and it had drifted into layers. Everything was white.
Chelsea picked up her phone. “My mom texted me. I’m gonna duck into my room and give her a call.”
I started gathering dishes. “I’ll clear the table.”
“Leave it. You should relax.” She paused, looking at me like I was on the menu. “Thanks for doing all this.”
I got the sense she meant more than just the food. For keeping her company, lavishing her with attention and love. I wanted to rush Evan and Elizabeth out so Chelsea and I could snuggle up together, drink wine, share more about our lives, forging a connection that grew stronger by the day.
Before she disappeared into her bedroom, I wrapped a hand around her wrist and pulled her in close for a quick kiss, thankful to have been able to spend a day spoiling her. Seeing her relaxed, glowing in the post-feast haze, was all the reward I could ever ask for.
Later tonight, when we were alone, I’d start the conversation I’d been thinking about all day, about us, and where we were headed. I’d put myself on the line and ask her to be my girlfriend.
And then, in an ideal world, we’d work off these calories the best way possible.
Chapter Fifteen
Chelsea
Challenge: Have a good cry
I couldn’t resist lingering for a minute before facing my phone call to my mom. Kissing Bas was almost as good as the promise of his pumpkin pie. Almost. Bas tasted like sugar and spice or curry and rice. Everything nice.
High on a delicious meal and ready to spend the rest of the night showing him exactly how much I appreciated him, I closed the door to my bedroom and climbed onto the bed where I planned to make Bas come long and hard. I smiled, remembering that terrible snow pun. What was I going to do with him?
