Page 17 of Boyfriend Maintenance

“I was thinking you should probably give me the low-down on what I need to know for this engagement party.”

She chews on the inside of her lip. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“Is there any place you want to eat near here?” I look over to her as we exit the building. It's sunny out so she pulls out a pair of big-rimmed sunglasses. Somehow, they match her outfit perfectly.

I look away and squint, wishing I’d brought my own pair.

“Actually, there is this little cafe a couple blocks away. Can we go there?” I plan on picking up the bill, I am a gentleman, but I’m hoping like hell this “little” cafe will not be as outrageously priced as I expect.

Idle chitchat gets us through the relatively short walk to the cafe. We walk right in and get a seat. I pick up the menu and find lots of soups, salads, and sandwiches. I notice the pricing isn’t so bad. The salads must be their specialty because they are the most overpriced items on the menu. I always find it interesting what someone orders on a first date. Of course, this isn't a date, but it's the first meal we’ve shared. I think what a person orders says a lot about them. Girls that order a plain-Jane salad then claim they are nervous or aren’t very hungry annoy the shit out of me. I shared my theory with a friend of mine a few years back and she agreed wholeheartedly. She’d had a first date in a nice restaurant and the tool ordered a half-and-half plate of bone-in wings and BBQ ribs. She said he proceeded to tuck a napkin into his collar and then licked his fingers clean when he was done. See what I mean? Is that really first-date material? Nope.

But I can’t help but smile when Emmy orders a simple grilled cheese and a bowl of tomato soup. I order the chicken club and side of the house-made chips. She catches my smile and shrugs a shoulder.

“Grilled Cheese? Really?” I tease.

“What? Don’t make fun. I have a serious obsession with them.” She picks up the Ball jar full of water and takes a sip.

“How old are you?” I chuckle.

“Twenty-eight. And I’ll be ninety before I ever give up my love of hot, melty cheese, sandwiched between two perfectly grilled pieces of bread.”

“We came here specifically for the grilled cheese, didn’t we?”

Her shoulder lifts causally. “It’s possible.”

I laugh again. “I happen to make a mean grilled cheese. You’d be so lucky to partake in its amazingness someday.”

“I’m sure. So where did this obsession come from?” I doubt this is knowledge I truly need to know to pass as her boyfriend, but I’m intrigued.

Leaning back in her chair, she sweeps a hand in front of her, already brushing off the story. “My nanny growing up made them for me all the time. We would spend hours experimenting with different cheeses, coming up with the best combinations. Finding the perfect bread and whether or not it’s best to butter both sides of the bread.” She leans in. “Hint: it is.”

“Okay, so what is it?” Her eyebrow cocks at my question. “What ingredients make up the best grilled cheese?”

She smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” God damn she’s adorable.

A guffaw from deep in my belly causes us both to just sit there laughing and smiling at each other. The service here is quick because, moments later, our plates are carefully set down in front of us. Sure enough, her sandwich looks pretty spectacular.

She wastes no time taking a bite. Her moan of ecstasy over a damn grilled cheese causes me to squirm in my seat. Then, she catches me off guard by stretching out her arm offering me a bit of the very food that she just took a bite of.

“Here, you have to try it.”

I don’t reply but take the triangle from her and take a bite of my own.

Now I understand the moaning. I don’t think I’ve ever had a grilled cheese taste so dang good before.

“Good, right? Now you’re going to crave grilled cheese for at least the next week or two.”

I hand it back to her and dig into my own sandwich. I refuse to dwell on the fact that she had no issues sharing food with me. We don’t know each other, yet she felt comfortable enough for such an intimate gesture.

Which brings me back to why we are here. “So, tell me more about you. What do I need to know?”

Nodding her head, she launches into basic information about her family and some people we will meet at the engagement party in a couple days.

Hours later when I start my shift at Madison, I realize just how much fun I had today with Emmy. Maybe after all this is said and done, we can be friends. A friend I wouldn’t mind kissing, but a friend nonetheless.

Chapter 9

Emmy

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