Faith asked, “What can I do to help?”
“You can stand there and look pretty. I got this.” I winked.
“I prefer to participate. My mother always said idle hands are the devil’s tools.”
Suppressing the thought of what deviant acts I’d rather have her hands performing, I said, “Let’s get those hands busy then,” handing her a bag of potatoes with a smirk. “Can’t have them doing the devil’s work.” Placing a knife on the cutting board beside me on the counter, I pointed. “Peel a few spuds and we’ll do some mashed potatoes.”
We chatted as she peeled and diced, and I started the sauce, asking her about her childhood and her job.
“Police work isn’t easy for a woman in Miami,” she said with a wrinkled brow. “But it’s even harder in a small town.” She dumped a load of diced potatoes into a pot and started to fill it with water. “Growing up here must have been nice, knowing everyone in town,” she said, watching me dip the fish in the egg wash, and then coat in the breadcrumbs.
“Yes and no,” I replied, glancing at her. “It’s great having a tight-knit community, but it also means there’s no privacy. Everybody knows your business.”
She huffed out a dry chuckle. “Yeah I’ve noticed that. My high school class was bigger than the entire student population of Coral Shores.”
“Kind of ironic. The Keys is a tiny strip of land between two oceans, but in reality, it’s a small pond.”
Faith giggled. “Bonus is that it’s easier to be a big fish, I suppose.” She smiled, watching me place the crispy, golden pan-fried filets on a paper towel.
I grinned. “Easier to catch the big fish too.”
“We need wine.” I went to the fridge. “White with fish?”
“Whatever you say,” Faith answered with a shrug. “I’m not really a connoisseur.”
“This is a good year,” I said, producing a bottle of Pinot Grigio. The cork made a satisfying pop. “It will go better with the fish than beer.”
Faith held a grin as I poured two glasses.
“What?” I asked, handing her a glass.
“You’re just full of surprises.” She smiled, taking a sip. “Oh, wow, that’s delicious.”
“I appreciate the finer things in life,” I said as I plated the filets, drizzling the key lime butter sauce over the top. Faith added the garlic butter mashed potatoes and green beans, and I garnished the fish with a slice of fresh key lime and a sprinkle of shredded parmesan. “Dinner is served,” I declared.
While Faith set the plates on the table, I dialed upCuban music balladson my phone. “With some Miami music to make you feel at home.”
Faith giggled, taking her seat. “This looks absolutely amazing.” She waited until I was seated before she took a bite, her eyes widening in surprise. “Whoa.” Her smile spread as she savored the bite. “This is really good. Seriously, I’m impressed.”
I shrugged, feeling a warm sense of pride. “Thanks. You saw me make it, though. It’s pretty simple.”
“I like that you’re so humble.”
I grinned, looking her in the eye. “I like that you’re here.”
“Me too,” she smiled, holding my gaze. I thought I saw her cheeks flush, which made my stomach flutter.
We ate in comfortable silence, the clink of silverware mingling with the sounds of latin ballads. Faith seemed more relaxed and open than I’d ever seen her. Away from the pressures of her job, she was like a different person.
“So, tell me about your music,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I was really surprised when I heard you playing the other night. You’re good.”
I laughed. “Why were you surprised that I’m good?”
“Good question. You’re probably good at everything you do.”
Her comment stirred ideas for sarcastic replies laden with innuendo, but I didn’t want to risk offending her. “That’s a high compliment,” I said as I chewed, my mouth twisting to the side. “And you’re not wrong. Anything worth doing is worth doing right.”
She chuckled. “I take back what I said about your humility.”