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I’m interested in Cinnamon. Too much so.

After Cinnamon uses my kitchen, I will tell her she doesn’t need to cook me a meal. I will let her off the hook. Block her number. Use her for the last names on the list.

And then I will never go looking for her again…

Except even as that mindset solidifies, cracks begin to form.

39

Tangling Tongues and Takeout

Cinnamon

Adrive-by? He must mean takeout.

And he gets home at 5pm? So I have to drop it off before then.

The thoughts circulate again as I tap the wheel and high-tail it to Reuben’s restaurant, Gumbeaux.

Even though my entire being wants to run in the opposite direction.

The last time I was here was with—

A blaring horn drags me back into existence, and I swerve, narrowly missing an oversized truck that has decided to turn left from the right lane, like that’s my fault.

Also, three Bitcoin? Is that even enough? How does that equate to $150?

I’ll have to message the web designer later to throw onto my debit card for me. It should be $150 total, which isn’t very much, but I can give half to Sherry. I still have a few more weeks until rent is due.

But my insurance is also expired, along with my registration.

Bills. Bills. Bills.

Maybe I should give up on being a chef… Learn the ways of pushing pharmaceuticals.

And that is the thought that swallows me whole as I drive down a side alley and land behind Gumbeaux.

A few beats later, another vehicle pulls up behind me, but it’s not the same one that hit my car.

Even still, it’s Reuben who gets out, and I follow suit. This space is surrounded by the brick of the building next to Gumbeaux, but the alley is clearly where the dumpsters are stored.

My eyes flick to the offending containers that the horrible smell suffusing the air comes from.

And then I force my attention to Reuben. He appears…

Uneasy.

Before, he was dressed in a suit, but now he is in wrinkled slacks and a black long sleeve button up. His muscles fighting against the material that contains them.

There’s a familiarity in his lips that brings Orzo to mind. Except, aside from that, they have absolutely nothing in common.

He meets my eyes, offering a soft smile. “You must drive fast.”

I shrug a shoulder. “I guess…”

There’s an uncomfortable stretch of energy between us. We are strangers. And I asked him for a favor.

“You shouldn’t be too nice,” I offer. “It’s easy to be taken advantage of if you are.”