Page 11 of Justice for Daesha

“Three. One is my little study slash office. The other is a guest room. They did the furnishings for those too. Italian or Greek?”

That jarred him. “What?”

“Italian or Greek? Dressing. For your salad. Which would you prefer? If you want Italian, I have cubed prosciutto, shredded mozzarella, and Kalamata olives. If you want Greek, I have Kalamatas, diced chicken, and feta. Whichever you’d like.”

“Hmmm. I think the Greek.”

“Coming right up. Just set the chops in the middle of the table.” He did as she said and before he could turn around, she delivered a beautiful Greek salad to his place setting. “Here ya go. Let me get mine and I’ll sit down.”

The salad was delicious. When they were finished, she said, “Hang on. Let me get everything else.” In seconds, there was a plate in front of him with asparagus and some kind of potatoes on it. “Pick your chop and I’ll take the other one. And please, take the biggest one.”

One bite and he groaned. “My god, this is good. What did you put on these chops?”

“My special seasoning. It’s a secret. I could tell you,” she said and winked, “but I’d have to kill you.”

“Wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he said with a laugh.

“Nope.”

One bite of the potatoes and he could barely stand it. “Oh holy hell, what are these? I’ve never tasted anything like this. They’re incredible, Daesha. I mean, really. They’re just… amazing.”

She smiled and tented her fingers, her elbows on the table. “Sliced potatoes layered with gruyere cheese, then whipping cream poured over them and baked. Like ‘em, huh?”

“Like them? I love them. I’ve got to tell my mom about this. My dad would flip over these.”

“Oh shit!” Her face fell. “I forgot to put the rolls in the oven!”

“I don’t know about you,” Amos said, his mouth full of potatoes, “but I don’t need any bread. I swear, this is the best meal I’ve had in… well, a long time. Donottell my mother I said that!” he said, chuckling, his mouth still full of food.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s the least I could do. Want some more wine?”

“Yes, please. That’s really good wine.”

“It’s not expensive. I happened across it one time at a tasting the store was doing and it was so good that I bought a few bottles. Now I make sure to go get more when I get down to my last bottle. I like to have it around. It’s just a nice wine for pretty much anything except fish.”

Amos was stuffed, but he kept eating. What a meal! He ate a lot of frozen dinners, and once a week his mother fed him a home cooked meal. But the food Daesha had cooked was beyond anything he’d ever tasted. “So you’re a gourmet cook?”

“Dear god, no! Everything I made here is super simple. I don’t like to cook, but I do like to eat! So I try to keep it as simple as possible. Not a lot of ingredients, just a lot of flavor.”

“Well, you’ve certainly succeeded,” he told her as he ate the last bite of potatoes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a meal this much.”

“Are you finished?” He nodded, and she stood and grabbed his plate.

“No! I’ll clean up. You cooked. It’s the least I can do.”

“You don’t have to. You’re my guest. Just go in the living room and make yourself comfortable.” He reached for the wine glass, then thought better of it, but it was as though she could read his thoughts. “Take it. There’s nothing so sacred in this house that you can’t sit on it and drink wine. If you spill it, I have club soda to clean it up. It’s really no big deal.”

“Thanks. I’d hate to waste any of this.” He lifted the glass and sent it out in a toasting motion toward her. “It’s really too good to waste a drop.”

She giggled. “Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed this. It’s no fun cooking for one, so I don’t do it very often.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He settled into the big chair in the living room, but he could still see and hear her easily. What a great design, that house. Comfortable, convenient, well-appointed. “By the way, before we get started, where’s your restroom?”

“First door on the right down the hallway.”

“Thanks. Be right back.” Amos headed that direction. When he turned on the light, he was stunned.

That had to be the most beautiful bathroom he’d ever seen. Oddly, there was nothing feminine about it. It was just all dark wood, polished granite, and antique bronze. He had to admit, he’d never been in a bathroom before that had a chandelier, but there was a small one in there, complete with vintage bulbs. Her attention to detail, from the battery-operated flicker candles to the automatic-open trashcan, was incredible. “That’s some bathroom,” he said as he sat back down in the living room.

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