Cook for her.
When Riley said it, the idea sounded simple. Almost obvious.
Now that I am actually thinking about doing it, and this date is being planned, I feel nervous. Not the kind of nerves I used to get before a big production pitch. Those had always been easy to manage. I knew the game, knew how to talk my way through a room full of executives.
This is different. This date is a thousand times more important than any of those meetings.
I rub the back of my neck and look out at the street in front of the theater.
Lavender Creek is moving slowly this morning. A few cars roll past the café across the street. Someone walks their dog down the sidewalk. The town feels calm again after the chaos of the fundraiser.
I’ve barely made it halfway down Main Street before I pull my phone back out of my pocket. Cooking for her had sounded like a great idea five minutes ago. Now a new thought has crept in.
What if she hates the idea?
I stop at my truck and pause, I am just going to ask her, it’s simple. Except my thumbs hover over the keyboard for a good thirty seconds before I finally start typing
Me:
Hey, quick question…
Violet:
That sounds mysterious
I smile.
Me:
I just want to make sure I don’t overstep.
The dots appear.
Violet:
Now, I’m nervous
Me:
Don’t be. I was thinking about tomorrow night. I thought it might be nice to cook dinner for you, instead of going somewhere and worrying about running into townspeople.
Violet:
Everett, that’s a great idea! I love baking; I don’t mind cooking, but it’s not my favorite. So having you cook for me sounds great!
Me:
Awesome! Glad to hear it. I’ll plan everything. You don’t need to do anything other than sit there and sing my praises.
Violet:
I can do that. I also have to clean.
Me:
Don’t you dare. Your apartment is never messy. I’m not inspecting your place; I am coming over to cook and spend time with you.
Violet:
