Page 45 of My Lucky Star
“You, too.” I smiled back, craning my neck to see the menu usually displayed across two screens above the counter, which were hidden from view by that weird, ornamental room divider. “I really like their chicken kebabs.”
“We’re not ordering from the menu. Kerim’s cooking for us.”
“Cooking what?”
Cem shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m too scared to ask, but based on thepideI had earlier today, I’m sure it’s amazing.”
“Should we take that photo first before my face eats my makeup? Then we don’t have to think about it anymore.”
“How does your face eat makeup?” Cem leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “Do you even have makeup on?”
“Do you?” I also leaned forward. “Your eyelashes look too dark and thick to be natural.”
“Yet, they are. A gift from God. Like the rest of me.” He straightened his shoulders, looking so self-satisfied I wanted to both slap him and run my fingers across those biceps. And triceps. All the ceps, really.
“So, settle this mystery, you gift from God. Where did you learn English? I know Kerim’s been here for years, and he still struggles... like, I don’t think he knows the word ‘onions’. I used to ask him to leave them out, but it never happened, so now I eat them. Turns out, I don’t mind them as much as I thought.”
Cem studied me with amusement. “Maybe he doesn’t like anyone messing with his recipe. If I asked my grandma to leave out onions, she’d do this.”
Cem gestured with his hands, producing a sound that fell between a scoff and yelp of pain, his eyes burning with indignation.
“You guys take food seriously, don’t you?”
Cem nodded. “Religiously.”
I smiled at the image of his grandmother, then realized what he’d done. “You didn’t answer my question. Where did you learn English?”
“I lived in L.A. for two years.”
“Really? Hollywood?”
Kerim arrived with two wine glasses and filled them with something red. I took a sip and decided it was wine.
“I didn’t get anywhere near Hollywood.” Cem spoke in a soft voice. “But I did learn English. Emir made it happen. He saw me in a school play and decided I could be a star. He somehow got dad to pay for the trip, but I had to find work there.”
“As a waiter?” I blew a deep sigh.
Cem took a long swig of his wine, making me wait. “As Superman. I went around kids’ birthday parties and organized games.”
“I did that too! I was a fairy.”
He cocked his head. “I can see that. A little woodland creature, barefoot, hair in tangles.” The softness in his eyes could have been mistaken for affection.
Warmth engulfed my cheeks, and I huffed in mock frustration. “Excuse me if I don’t have a million-dollar sponsorship deal with a shampoo brand.”
“You mean like Burcu did? She had to spend so much time using all the treatments to make sure her hair was always super shiny. They’d come and spray it in the middle of our scene. I accidentally inhaled that stuff once. Coughed for hours.”
“Her hairisalways so shiny!”
“The magic of... whatever aerosol-based floor wax it was. You still watching the show?” His probing eyes held me hostage.
I squirmed in my seat. “I call it homework, but in reality, I’m completely hooked. I can’t stop.”
“I’ve heard people say that.”
“Have you ever watched it again? After all these years I mean.”
Cem looked at me blankly. “I never watched it. Not even then.”
