Page 31 of Ripped & Shipped
We eat and banter. And finally, we get to dessert. Ella Mae has a banana pudding shake that has to be at least three thousand calories. And I’ve got this chocolate cake dessert with whipped cream and a cherry.
I’m so relaxed now—more relaxed than I’ve been in longer than I can remember. So strange.
We swap bites. Ella Mae sticking her spoon in my mouth, and me returning the favor to feed her a bite of cake à la mode. We agree the combination of flavors is actually the best taste.
“So, the moral of the dessert story?” Ella Mae says to the camera. “Bring a friend and share these two scrumptious treats.”
She smiles over at me.
“And that’s it for me, Ella Mae, and my dining companion, Chris. Don’t forget to put the YOU in Fab-YOU-lous today, and share a dessert with a friend if you can!”
She pushes the button for the live recording off, but the comments continue to stream in. Her phone looks like that bar that runs under the NYSE showing the prices of all the stocks.
“Whew,” Ella Mae says, sticking her spoon back into the shake and taking out a bite.
She pops the spoon in her mouth and drags it back out through her lips. Objectively, I know why she’s single. But right now, it baffles me. She’s beautiful, fun, and resilient as all get out.
“Look at you,” she says, taking another scoop of her shake, and then reaching over for a bite of my cake to follow it. She swallows and smiles. “These desserts should be illegal! And I’m so glad they’re not.”
“Look at me?” I ask, harping back to her comment.
“Having fun and all. Who knew? Chris St. James can be fun.”
“I knew.” The defensiveness in my tone is thinly veiled.
“Welp. I didn’t. So, now I do.”
Her face morphs a little. Softer. More vulnerable.
“Seriously, though. Thanks, Soldier. You didn’t have to do this for me.”
“It was fun,” I admit.
“Well, I’ll get Shawna to bring us the check before our cease fire turns into a pumpkin.”
Does she think we’re still enemies? Not that we ever were actual enemies. She just got on my last nerve. And I avoided her and her camera, with good reason. I’ll probably still avoid her camera. Tonight was just a one-off to help her out in her time of need. I still have plenty of reasons to keep a low profile and avoid being seen online regularly.
“What happens now?” I ask.
I feel like I need a DTR talk, and we’re not even in a relationship.
“What do you mean, Big Boy?”
I chuckle. “You can ditch that nickname, anytime.”
“Not happening. I like it. Besides, you earned it.”
“And I’ll get supper. It’s on me,” I tell her, waving Shawna over.
“Nope. This is a business expense for me. And you did me the favor. My treat.”
“I’m used to paying when I’m out with a woman.”
“Well, get used to not paying tonight.”
Shawna arrives at our table. “I’ll be covering the meals, Shawna,” Ella Mae says. “And thank you again for your help with our segment. Are you on social media?”
“Yes. I sure am.”
