For someone who’d just been demoted, Evan had a decided spring in his step as he led me through the orchard, like he’d won a reprieve, and I was proud of myself for setting boundaries I could live with. Chelsea might not be thrilled with the compromise, but this was my life, and I was learning that I needed to stand up to my best friend sometimes, too.
Chapter Thirty-four
Evan
“The fault...is not in our stars, but in ourselves.”
Julius Caesar
“This is going to be epic,” Bas said, rubbing a knuckle across his chin, leaving a dusting of flour behind. “I’m gonna blow her away with this dinner.”
I’d stopped by the kitchen where he worked to check up on him since we were no longer cohabitating. He’d been putting in extra hours, fulfilling the orders for premade casseroles, baked goods, stuffed squab, or whatever else people would pass off as their own recipes, and then in his off time, he’d started prepping for Thanksgiving. He had to be exhausted.
Elizabeth was at the university this morning, settling into her new role, and I didn’t want to interfere with her routine.
“You know, you don’t need to try so hard.” I envied his optimism as he manifested this delulu fantasy that a single meal could win Chelsea’s heart while I kept sabotaging myself out of fear. Maybe I ought to take a page out of Basil’s playbook. “I mean, you’re clearly doing something right. It’s obvious she really likes you, but I don’t think Thanksgiving dinner is the thing that will convince her to change her whole life philosophy.”
He crimped a stuffed ravioli. “It’s the thing I do best. Why wouldn’t I play to my strengths?”
It amazed me how sure he was, how willing to open his heart to a woman who’d straight up told him she was going to hurt him. “I wish I knew what my strengths were. All I have is me.”
“I’d love to tell you that’s enough, but I’m afraid you’d hold a mirror up to me.” He laughed, but then his smile melted. “I honestly think all Elizabeth needs is the assurance you won’t keep crashing out over your own insecurities.”
“Ouch.” But he was right. “I wish I could reverse time and start over, knowing what I know now.”
He clapped my shoulder, probably leaving a hand print, and bent close to look into my eyes. “You’re here, now. Some future version of you might look back at this moment as a juncture. Try to picture where you want to be in a year or two. What path will future you wish you’d taken?”
“Whoa. That’s actually great advice.”
“You act like you’re surprised.” He arched a brow. “Do you think I made it all the way to the pinnacle of grocery store kitchen chef without serious planning?”
I sniffed a laugh. He really didn’t belong here, and everyone knew it. “So where do you see yourself in a year?”
The side of his mouth quirked up. “I think we’ll still be using mirrors in a year.”
“What?” I groaned when his meaning hit me. “Seriously. In the future, what will you wish you’d done today?”
He just shrugged. “Smoke a pheasant.”
I hoped Chelsea appreciated what she had in Bas. He knew how to speak her love language, if only she’d listen. I wished I could simply cook Elizabeth a hot meal to prove my worthiness, but Elizabeth spoke a different love language, and I was going to have to get creative in my mission to win back her friendship, romance, and intimacy.
I headed into work with a sense of dread. The weekend had been fraught, but the reprieve from the station had been necessary for my mental health. The underlying tension of the newsroom was going to give me heart disease.
As if I weren’t already stressed, Lauren popped in to check on the forecast. I wanted to point out that I’d been right about the weekend weather, not that she cared. We hadn’t seen a single snowflake, but I didn’t really need to provoke a fight, so I offered an olive branch.
“It looks like you might get your wish. We could have snow by Thursday.”
“I know that.” She held out her phone. “I was coming to tell you the apps are calling for up to eight inches.”
I rolled my eyes. Those apps were going to steal my job one of these days, and they were highly misleading. “Not here though. That’s to the west of us. Wemightget five or six inches, but that’s the upper limit.”
“I want you to lead with the eight inches in the teaser.” She held up a hand before I could protest. “You can clarify that’s for Afton in the main segment, but people will have to stick around to get the details.”
“If you don’t care about my professional opinion, why don’t you just do the weather report yourself?”
“Because I don’t look like you. We’d save a lot of money just showing a graphic, but Shelby wanted razzle dazzle.” She half-heartedly made the jazz hands.
Gross. I was starting to feel like a pinup model. “I’m not going to lie, Lauren.”
