We contin
ued our project and fortunately finished first. It felt amazing to know my skills and knowledge could finally be used in a real, state of the art kitchen.
Proud of our accomplishment we decided to grab a drink after class. I quickly text Michael to make sure he could pick Stella up
at 3:45. I needed some sort of social life considering I only socialized with a four-year-old and my roommate, who was often busy writing or hooking up.
Michael had been my lifesaver ever since Liam’s death. He would come over and lay with me in bed while I cried myself to sleep and get up with Stella to feed or change her. There were days I could hardly get out of bed, and Michael never complained or rushed me to ‘get over it’. He would bring Stella in bed with me and let me snuggle her until we both fell asleep. I would wake up hours later with Michael putting her back in her crib or staying up to play with her. If it weren’t for Michael, I
honestly don't know where I'd be.
“Where to Blakely?” I asked the other woman in our group who was leading us down to a tavern I didn’t recognize. She was in her early twenties with beautiful, thick blonde hair that swept her shoulder blades. She was extremely chatty but sweet.
The last girlfriends I had were during my first year of high school. It was before I met Liam and I was still doing gymnastics on the weekends. We used to try on each other’s clothes and walk to the mall after school. I haven’t had girlfriend socialization since Liam and I got serious sophomore year.
“To kicking ass on our second day!” Brad cheered with his beer held high. The rest of us clinked our glasses together and took a drink. Brad was next to the other two men in our
group checking the game while Blakely and I stayed in the booth gossiping.
“So who do you think has the best ass?” Blakely asked
me as we watched the men bend over the bar.
Well, she’s blunt.
I laughed at her forwardness. She seemed like she probably enjoyed living the single life. She was beautiful after all, but I sensed she had a low self-esteem.
I sensed being used for sex was probably the result of that.
“Hmm… Brad
has a hot body, but Anthony has a pretty fine ass,” I responded giggling like this conversation was just ridiculous.
“I don’t know. Micah is pretty hot,” Blakely said while licking her lips enjoying the view in front of us.
Hmm… I bet she’s enjoying the eye candy.
We continued drinking and laughing when I saw out of the corner of my eye the tavern door open
. A tall, stunning Drake Stagliano stepped in looking completely out of place. I stopped laughing, and my mouth dropped opened. I was speechless. Blakely noticed my sudden mood change and quickly turned around to see the handsome figure sit at the bar. Her mouth dropped as she turned to look at me.
“Ohhhhhhmiiiiigooooood,” Blakely whispered to me with wide eyes. Obviously, she noticed him.
This should be interesting. Why would he be here, in this tavern?
“Oh dear god….” I mumbled back to Blakely trying to hide my blushed cheeks.
“Isn’t he dreamy? No wonder every girl wants a piece of his fine ass. I mean seriously, how much would it cost to have him for one night?” Blakely blurted out loud, unsure if she was speaking to me.
I spewed my beer out as she continued talking about him and wanting to take him home. “Oh my god, Blakely!”
If she only knew…
“What? Don’t pretend you don’t see what I see, Molly.
That man is gorgeous!” she heckled biting her lip, continuing to drool over him.
She has a point.
“Obviously, the man is good looking,” I admitted rolling my eyes. “But I’m sure his ego is big enough that you don’t
have to keep staring,” I interrupted as she didn’t realize she was still eyeing him.
Brad, Micah, and Anthony walked back to the booth, and Brad squeezed in next to me. He casually wrapped his arm around me and took a swig of his beer laughing with the other guys. He squeezed
my shoulder as he smiled down at me.
This is uncomfortable. And awkward.
I rolled m
y eyes at Blakely as she winked at me. Brad was a nice looking guy and he had a beautiful smile, but him sitting so close to me was incredibly unnerving. I could only imagine how we looked from afar;
like a couple.
I tried to wedge out of his grip, but he pulled me in tighter as he was laughing at a joke.
I looked up at him while he spoke casually glancing to see if Drake was looking at me. His eyes caught mine, and he raise
d his eyebrows at me and winked. I looked away knowing I needed to leave before this got any weirder.
“Sorry guys, but I have to go. Stella will be heading to bed soon, and I want to see her
before she falls asleep,” I insisted, gesturing to Brad to allow me out of the booth. I gave him a hug secretly hoping Drake was watching and told the rest I’d see them all tomorrow. I grabbed my things and headed for the door not looking in Drake’s direction.
This is so confusing. I don’t know why I would want Drake to see me hug another man or why I would want to give Brad the wrong impression. Get it together!
I started walking towards my apartment trying to flag a cab. I had three beers, and since I was feeling light headed, I didn’t feel comfortable walking home in the dark. Fortunately, a cab pulled over next to me. I grabbed for the door handle and tripped; nearly face planting the cement. Suddenly, a strong arm reached for me saving me from face diving.
Damn, I’m a klutz.
I thanked the person for catching me before realizing who it was. My breath was taken away as I stabled myself realizing Drake was the one whose arm had grabbed me.
Oh man, he’s gorgeous.
“Miss Woods,
are you okay?” Drake asked with a concerned look as he held me close to him.
Why is he so close to my face? Walk away… walk away….
“I’m fine, thank you Mr. Stagliano. Just… c
lumsy,” I mumbled.
Why am I so nervous? Ugh, that was embarrassing.
“You need to be more car
eful. Especially if you’re going to be drinking,” he scolded. I rolled my eyes as I turned my head and continue walking to the cab that was impatiently waiting.
“Yes, I will. Thanks again.” I could feel the heat coming
off him. It was so intense that I felt intimidated just being near him.
Hold it together, Molly.
He leaned forward just barely grazing me and grabbed the door handle gesturing me in
to the cab. I nodded graciously and sat on the far side of the seat. I was expecting him to close the door, but instead he got in and sat down beside me.
What the hell?
He noticed my puzzled expression as he told the cab driver where to go. “I hope you don’t mind since we’re heading in the same direction after all,” he snickered, edging closer to me.
“Sure,” was all I was able to say practically holding my breath. We
continued sitting in silence before my phone rang out in a tantrum.
“Hey baby, I’ll be home soon, ok? Tell Michael to save me some dinner. Love
you too.” I hung up with Stella silently wishing the driver would drive faster.
“Kelly Clarkson fan?” he asked with a sly smile.
“My ringtone per my roommate’s request,” I snorted back.
“Who’s Michael?” Drake asked with a stern tone.
Ummm, none of your fucking business.
“My roommate,” I mumbled
vaguely hoping he’d leave it alone.
“Ahhh… boyfriend?” he intrigued.
“No, he’s gay,” I barked, trying not to stare at him.
“Good to know,” he bantered, looking directly at me. I tried avoiding eye contact with him, but I could see him out of the corner of my eyes gawking at me.
“So what was your reason for stopping by l
ast night?” I fumed, demanding answers.
“I already told you. I wanted to see you.”
“Yes, but why? We don’t know each other.”
“But I want to know you,” he said a little softer.
This is odd
.
“
I’m flattered, Mr. Stagliano, but I’m not interested in getting to know you.” His eyebrows narrowed as he frowned. “Or anyone for that matter,” I finished so he didn’t think I was rejecting him. The truth was I hadn’t been interested in dating anyone since Liam. It’s been almost four years since he died and I still felt like I’d be cheating on him. I knew I sounded ridiculous to most people, but getting my career on the ground and taking care of Stella were my only priorities.
“
Well, Miss Woods, I just want to know you as a friend,” he insisted, unconvincingly.
“Fine, Mr. Stagliano. What do you want to know?”
I urged, meeting my eyes with his.
Let’s just get this over with.
“What is your favorite position?” he asked with a straight face.
Oh my god, what did he just ask me?
Stunned, all I could do was give him a questioning look and reply, “Excuse me?”
“In the kitchen. What is your favorite position in the kitchen when you’re working?” he clarified, although I’m sure he was trying to rattle me
.
Oh, thank goodness.
“I love working with desserts and sauces. I love being able to make food desirable and appealing. It’s like art – but with food.” I gave a little smile hoping that was a satisfying enough answer for him.
“Desirable and appealing,” he pondered. “That’s intriguing."
Finally, the cab pulled over at my apartment.
“Thank you again, Mr. Stagliano for catching my fall.” I reached for the handle and swung the door open.
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Woods,”
he quipped, looking oddly suspicious. I nodded and stumbled out.
“Michael! Have you seen my wallet?” I panicked.
No, no! Of all days to be late and my wallet is MIA.
“No, sorry honey. Did you look through your purse and coat?” Michael replied
, worried for me.
“Yes, three times already! It’s gone!”
Where the fuck did it go?
“Guess I need to call my bank and credit card companies.
“Don’t forget your picking Stella up today.
I have a hot date,” Michael bragged as he walked in to the kitchen putting his shirt on.
“Yes, I know. Hot date, huh?” I asked curiously. Michael was a player, but as long as he didn’t bring his accomplices to the house, I didn’t care.
“Troy. He’s fun. If it doesn’t go too well, I’ll be back by nine.” Michael approached me and tenderly kissed me on the forehead goodbye.
“Stella, let’s go honey!” We left and practically ran to a cab.
Of all days to be late and without my wallet!
Good thing I had a secret stash of cash lying around the house for emergencies.
“Welcome, Miss Woods. Glad to see your finally joining us today,” Mr. Cooper scolded looking pissed. I was fifteen minutes late and as much as I tried to sneak into the kitc
hen; I was busted.
“I apologize Mr. Cooper. It won’t happen again.”
“Are you okay?” Blakely turned around with a puzzled look.
“Yeah, just ran late. I lost my wallet,” I pouted.
“I saw Mr. Stagliano leaving the tavern right after you left. Looked like he was up to something,” Blakely commented, changing the subject as we gathered in our groups for another cooking project. Today we were focusing on bases and soups.
“Really?” I asked
, pretending not to notice. I didn’t know if mentioning him to her was a big deal or not. I figured she’d hound me and ask a million questions. I didn’t need to be distracted today since I was already late for class.
“Okay, so let’s start with the vegetable minestrone and tomat
o lavender base,” Brad proposed. We chatted for the next several hours getting our soups and bases prepared. Interning was grunt work. We had to do all the crappy jobs that the chefs didn’t feel like doing. We have to learn anyways, but I was ready to move on to more challenging tasks, start entrees, and gourmet meals. I hoped to run my own kitchen someday.
Maybe my own restaurant.
Before Liam and I found out we were expecting, I worked at a local res
taurant in town where I cooked, and Liam bussed. We were trying to save money to move into our own place. I would pretend that I was the executive chef and present the food in a special way with garnishes and drizzles on the plates. After having that job, I knew that was what I wanted to do. Cooking gave me a sense of accomplishment that I desired after my parent’s divorce. They were tied up in who got what that I felt invisible most of the time.
“I’m just going to place this in
the freezer guys. Be right back,” I announced with my hands full walking the other way. I shuffled some containers around to make room and aimed for the door when I suddenly noticed something shiny in the corner of my eye.
No fucking way.
There lying on a rack next to full containers of condiments was my Coach wallet nicely folded with a note on top.