Megan's Blog: Romancing the Cook (Part 1)

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Megan's Blog:

It’s late afternoon before I take a break to eat. I can’t stop thinking about Chase and I can’t tell anyone that I’m thinking about him. All my friends hate him for what he did to me. I don’t know why I can forgive him when they can’t. I guess I understand Chase Maxwell. He never meant to hurt me. He just has poor impulse control. He doesn’t know when to stop pushing to the extreme. If he is really drug-free maybe he’s changed. Maybe I wouldn’t know him at all. Three years is a long time. His brother Tegan didn’t give me any insight into Chase’s sober life. Chase always had such a carefree way about him. Every sentence that came out of his mouth was either sarcasm or a joke. Maybe I wouldn’t even like drug-free Chase. I shouldn’t waste my time thinking about him.

I look out the window at the mental health clinic across the street and spot a hottie dressed to the hilt in a tailored suit coming out the door. He looks to be about thirty but still striking. He’s not my usual type, though I think my tastes may be maturing. I wonder if he is part of the study I am compiling for my friend Alli’s mom. She’s a psychiatrist at the clinic and paying me to gather statistics on her clients. It’s an easy job inputting data and compiling charts, and it will look good on my resume.

“Hey, gorgeous. You waiting for someone?” a tenor voice infiltrates my thoughts.

I turn to see who is addressing me and shake my head. The dark-haired cutie standing next to my booth wipes his hands on the towel hanging out of the waistband of his jeans, and then sits down across from me, stretching his legs out next to mine. As his grey eyes penetrate me he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, catching the ring pierced through his lower lip with his tongue.

“You’re not my usual server,” I say, holding eye contact.

He tilts his head toward the counter where the girl who usually waits on me is eating. She must be on break. I’ve only been here twice before, but she was my server both times.

“Do you want a coffee and a house salad like yesterday? Or can I make you something with flavor?”

I didn’t realize he even noticed me. I saw him working in the kitchen, but didn’t know he saw me.

“Surprise me.” I don’t know why I say it, but I do, and my words light a fire in his eyes.

“Coming right up.” As he rises from his seat, he smirks. He ducks behind the counter and returns a minute later with a tall glass of ice water and a set of flatware wrapped in a paper napkin.

“You’re going to need this. Something tells me you like hot and spicy.” He sets them on the table in front of me, then he winks and returns to the kitchen.

I hear pots clanking in the back and since the café is nearly empty, I know that it is either for show or my meal. He peeks at me through the serving window and smiles. I like his smile. When he returns ten minutes later carrying a huge plate brimming with pasta and vegetables, I can’t help but be impressed. It looks delicious and smells even better with garlic, basil, onion, peppers and summer squash.

“I didn’t realize you served pasta here.”

“We don’t. This was supposed to be my lunch.” He holds up a second set of flatware and sits down across from me. “I don’t mind sharing.” He dips his fork into the pasta and lifts a bite to his mouth as if I’m the intruder on the meal.

I stare at him in disbelief, but he just smiles. Then the aroma overtakes me and I have to join him. “Thanks for sharing,” I say before taking a bite.

He smiles and waits for my reaction. “Three, two, one,” he whispers.

And the flavor explodes in my mouth. Ohmygod. He pushes my ice water toward me. My tongue is on fire, but in a good way. I down a mouthful of water and then say, “This is so good.”

He smiles again before taking another bite. The food is amazing and that alone scores him points, but he’s cute and definitely has attitude. As we chat with easy conversation, I discover he’s only nineteen and that’s a bit of a turn off. I don’t usually pay attention to younger guys. I’m going to make an exception this time, though. I’m twenty-one so it’s not that big of an age difference. 

We make a date to have him make me lunch again tomorrow and somehow over a meal I’ve almost completely forgotten about sober Chase. 
Copyright 2015 Susan Schussler