Page 72 of Lovestruck at Sundown
“Nice to meet you, Moira.” I shook her hand, clueless aboutwhat she was doing here since William had told me nothing about it. “Please come in.” I nodded to Aaron, so he turned and left without a word.
“We look like shit,” Nina said to Moira, closing the door behind us. “We’re well aware of it.”
The three of us laughed.
“You do not.” Moira settled her bag on one of the foyer chairs with a smile. “Hope you don’t mind. It’s kinda heavy.”
“Of course.”
“William didn’t tell you I was coming, did he?” Moira removed her leather jacket and appeared slightly embarrassed.
“He … did not. But I’m going to kick his ass. Don’t you worry about it.”
Moira laughed. “William told me your kitchen skills needed work, and he was worried you were eating a lot of ramen. And listen, I’ve got nothing against ramen. I love it myself.”
Moira’s features had distinct Asian characteristics, which piqued my curiosity. I couldn’t help but wonder about her culinary skills, and the thought of her possibly preparing exquisite ramen grabbed my attention, even though I knew I’d already eaten my fill.
“So, are you here to teach me how to cook?” I offered an exaggerated, nervous grin.
“Oh, no. At least, not today.” She laughed. “William told me you burned the kitchen last year. He wants me to cook some hearty meals for you. Stuff you can freeze so it lasts for a few days before he arrives.”
“He arrives in three days!” I loved the gesture, but it was too much, as usual. He didn’t have to do it.
“That’s … my fault,” Moira admitted. “I meant to come sooner, but I was dealing with an ugly breakup with my ex-girlfriend. So I couldn’t fly into New York until now. And William insisted.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
I was about to offer her a hot beverage when Nina interrupted, “Wait, William flew you here just to cook for her?”
“He did.” Moira chuckled and crossed her arms at her chest. “I currently live in Austin, but I’m considering moving back to New York. You know, fresh start and all. My boss owns a few restaurants in the city, so transferring wouldn’t be problematic.” Moira pulled up her sleeves and revealed some cool tattoos on her forearms. “But enough about me. Should we get started?”
My kitchen was empty, and Moira didn’t bring any groceries, so I didn’t know how the cooking would happen. When I expressed my concern, she said, “No worries. I sent William a grocery list, and he had someone fetch the items from the store. Everything’s at his place.”
“I’ll go get the keys to his apartment then.”
Shaking my head, I walked to my room because William had promised to inform me if he ever did something like this for me. But again, he thought I’d refuse. Only this time, I wouldn’t have minded eating a few home-cooked meals. As much as I kept defending my tuna salads, sandwiches, and instant ramen, I had to admit I was growing sick of it all. I had almost asked Vesna if she cooked the day I met her, but I got distracted by William’s texts and completely forgot about it.
But William was always ten steps ahead of me. Always anticipating my wants and needs.
Nina, Moira, and I entered William’s apartment and headed for the kitchen.
“Fuck me.” Moira looked around William’s kitchen in awe. “I guess I could’ve left my cooking tools at home,” she said as he opened cabinets and pulled on drawers. “He’s got everything I need here.” She grabbed one of his knives and inspected it. “My knives are still better than his. Always have been.”
“So I assume you guys go way back?” Nina asked.
“We went to culinary school together in Stockholm,” Moira explained as she unloaded her tools and knives from her bag to set up a cooking station. “But he abandoned me to become a big-shot celebrity.”
“Tell us all about William before he was, well, William Sjöberg.” Nina’s eyes widened with interest as she claimed one of the stools and propped her elbows on the counter to rest her chin on her hands.
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” Moira sang. “But first. Allergies? Intolerances? Preferences? Anything you hate?” She threw an olive-green apron over her head and tied the black straps around her delicate frame.
“I eat everything except strawberries.”
“Ay, ay, ay.” Moira tugged the industrial-looking fridge’s doors open and pulled out fresh produce, placing the items on the cutting boards on the counter. “How did William take it? You know, since he’s obsessed with strawberries.”
“Thank you!” I threw my hands up. “Finally, someone gets it. He keeps trying to force-feed me strawberries whenever he gets the chance.”
Moira laughed as she began chopping carrots and onions at a dangerous speed. She was one of the coolest people I’d met and seemed like an ultimate pro. Something told me her food would be as amazing as her.
