Page 32 of Unexpected Pickle
“No, no,” I tell her. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“Thank you,” she says to the assistant, dismissing her.
Was that a flash of something? Possessiveness? Jealousy?
A man can hope.
“You ditched your Frenchman,” I say.
“He was hovering.” She adjusts the flames. “And spying.”
“But he’s the golden boy.”
She reaches past me for the metal shakers. “He might be insecure beneath all that blustering.”
As she uses each seasoning, I copy what she does with my steak. It doesn’t matter if it’s wrong. It will be good.
“That’s a nice piece of meat,” she says.
“Thanks.” I’ll just pretend she’s talking about me.
She grabs a pair of tongs from a tray and moves her chicken to the grill with a sputter of flames as juices drip down.
I take another pair and move my steak.
I’m about to put my asparagus beside it, but she holds out a hand. “Your steak will take a lot longer than the vegetables. Give it a few minutes.”
We stand in front of the grill, the clattering of pans and dishes filtering in from behind us.
“I’m surprised French boy didn’t follow you,” I say.
She turns her head slowly. “Why would he do that?”
“He’s got a thing for you.”
She spins to the rows, even though we can’t see the one we were on. “You think so?”
Damn. She seems excited.
“You didn’t know?”
She shakes her head. “How did you?”
I shrug. “He approached you first at the mixer. He’s always right beside you first thing. He jockeys to be near you when we move. And when he won the breakfast competition thing, the first person he looked to for validation?—”
“Was me.” She seems shocked.
“I think your chicken is getting done. It’s turned white on the bottom.”
She glances down, then seems to jolt out of her thoughts and quickly flips the chicken.
“I don’t blame you,” I say. “He’s probably a real catch—you know, in Paris or whatever.”
This gets her attention. “Are you jealous?”
“Nah. Nah. It’s all good. The Canadian chicks are good.” I can’t seem to stop the flow of blather coming out of me.
“Canadian…chicks?” She won’t look at me as she adds her skewers to the fire.
