Twenty-three

Having no desire to face the real world, I slept through all my morning classes and showed up late for my student’s piano lesson. Thankfully, the mother had always known me to be punctual, so my tardiness was forgiven since it was a first-time offense. I wanted to avoid my house at all costs, but I needed to shower and get changed before I went over to Harry’s for my first cooking lesson. Mainly, I just couldn’t bear seeing Summer right now or that smug look on her pointy little face.

To my relief, the house was empty. Most of the girls had classes at this time, and I was able to get in and out in under an hour. I stopped at the liquor store and bought a bottle of red. I wasn’t sure what we were cooking, but unless it was fish, I assumed red would be fine.

When I arrived, Harry had some forties music on and an apron. He took my coat and kissed my cheek, and I momentarily felt a pang of guilt. Was Brit right? Was I only fooling myself into thinking Harry was just my friend? I also wondered if I was using him. David had always been my way of escaping when the sorority and school all became too much. His life was so different, and it was nice to have a place where my day wasn’t measured by an agenda. No. I didn’t escape with David. I shared a life with him. It was different. Everything with David was different.

“Hey, I brought red,” I said, holding up the wine.

“Nice!” Harry took the bottle and walked over to the counter. Everything was set up in little bowls and measuring cups. It looked like a cooking show, so neat and organized.

“What are we making?” I asked.

“Rosemary baby lamb chops, roasted potatoes, and sautéed vegetables.” Harry kissed his fingers like the cooks do on TV.

“Sounds incredible. You make that, and I’ll be in charge of pouring wine.”

“No way, you are going to cook all of this. Then you’re allowed to have wine.”

“No wine until we dine?” I pouted.

“No wine until we dine,” Harry reaffirmed, holding my gaze a moment longer than necessary. Shit. I really needed that wine now. Anxiety was starting to crawl up my spine like a spider on a web.

I had assumed I would be chopping and observing, but Harry already had all the food prepared, so I actually was the one cooking. “Here, my old apron from culinary school.” He looked equally proud and disappointed as he untied the white apron and handed it to me. I tied it on, seeing the stains around the thighs where Harry must have habitually wiped his hands over the course of his many lessons. It was clearly special to him.

“Where’s my hat?” I joked.

He shook his head. “No hats, but you probably want to tie your hair back.”

“Rachel Ray never ties her hair back.”

“Rachel Ray is in front of a camera. Trust me, you go in the back of any restaurant in New York and see a chef without their hair tied back and you have a health violation.”

I giggled and pulled my brown locks into a low ponytail at the base of my neck. A few stray hairs fell out, but I tucked them neatly behind my ears. Then I washed my hands. “Okay, apron is on, hair is back, hands are clean. Now what?”

“Now we make a little magic.”

Harry walked me through measuring and spices. He showed me how to make my own gravy for the lamb chops and how to cook things simultaneously. At first, I was overwhelmed, it seemed like a lot of flipping, stirring, and simmering. But then I found my rhythm, and the kitchen became just another instrument that I was learning how to play.

Harry dipped a spoon into the mushroom gravy that was bubbling around the lamb chops. He tasted the brown broth, closed his eyes momentarily, and smiled. “Perfection. Here.” He held out the same spoon, and I bent down and tasted my creation.

My gaze caught Harry’s as I ran a tongue across my lips. “Did I really make that?”

“Yes, you did. Pretty fantastic if I do say so.”

“A student is only as good as her teacher.” I smiled as he blushed, and a thick layer of awkward spread between us. I realized if we had met under different circumstances, Harry could actually have been a great guy for me. But we met through David. He was an Archer, and I was an Archer’s ex. I cleared my throat. “So now what?”

He clicked the gas off. “Now the meal is done, but part of cooking is artistry. I’ll show you how to assemble the food onto the plate so it has that wow factor.” He reached for plates, put the meat down, then the sides. He drizzled the gravy and wiped the excess off with a clean cloth napkin so it was perfectly neat. Then he tossed some fresh chopped parsley on top and handed the plate to me. “Voila! All done.”

“This looks incredible!” I still couldn’t believe I had made it. We carried our plates over to the island and set them down. Harry opened the bottle of red I had brought, filled our glasses, and raised his. I lifted mine and looked at him.

“To your first lesson, and hopefully many more.” He clinked his glass with mine, and I wondered if he meant more in that I’d become a great cook, or more lessons with him. I was overthinking. I took a sip of the wine and looked down at my plate. It really did look great. I almost wished David could have seen it; he would have been proud of me.

Harry must have noticed I was lost in thought, for he smiled at me. “Bon appetit.” I cut into my meat and took my first bite. The lamb was so tender, it melted on my tongue.

“Wow! I can’t believe this. It’s so good.”

“So when’s my lesson?”

“You really want a piano lesson?”

“I just want more time with you, but a piano lesson would be nice, too.”

I forced a smile and looked down at my meal.

“Kris, I didn’t mean it like that. I know what you’re going through. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit how much I have enjoyed our time together.”

His words were a huge relief. I looked up at him and smiled. “Thursday afternoon. I’ll book the music room at school.”

“Cool, it’s a date.” Hmm… was it?

After dinner, I helped Harry with the dishes, and we relaxed on the couch and finished that bottle of wine. When I drank all my glass and was disappointed to discover the bottle was empty, Harry gave me the rest of his.

“You’re so sweet, Harry.”

“Ha.” He shook his head, propped an elbow on the armrest of the couch, and relaxed his head into his palm. “I’m not that sweet.”

“Yes, you are. You’re too good to me.”

“Maybe I have ulterior motives?” He wagged his eyebrows at me. He got up and scrambled in the kitchen for a bit.

“Nah. You’re just one of the good guys,” I called out. He returned with another bottle of red and a corkscrew. Well, look who was full of surprises. He expertly uncorked the bottle and refilled my glass, which, sadly, was empty again, then he filled his. He was smiling. “What?”

He sat back down and leaned into the couch. “Believe it or not, I have a dark side, Kris. A very dark side, and the scariest part is, I think you are the one person who could unleash it.”

“Are you trying to tell me a ghost story before bedtime?”

“No, I’m just trying to warn you before we’re in too deep.”

He was starting to sound like Brit, saying things out loud that shouldn’t be said. That had to be the wine talking. “Okay, now you really are scaring me.”

“That’s just the thing, I never want to scare you.”

“Then don’t.”

“I’ll try,” he said softly.

I took a sip of the red. It was dryer than what I had brought. More… grown up. I didn’t really know much about wine other than some were red and some were white. David and I had talked about going wine tasting in Napa. David and I had talked about doing a lot of things. Like getting married and spending the rest of our lives together… Wincing at the memory, I drank deeper. Now that I had some more truth serum, I started over talking as well.

“I don’t know… maybe a dark side isn’t that bad.”

“How so?”

“Brit is pretty dark.”

“She’s jaded and wears black, but that’s not what I mean by dark.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean, I have to work very hard every day not to unleash my personal demons.”

I shrugged. Eh, who didn’t have a few skeletons in their closet? “Well, we all do that.”

“Not like me.”

“Well, maybe you should just let them out… run free… stretch their wings and all that jazz.”

He looked at me, very serious. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Tempt me.”

Tempt him? I took a breath before speaking. “Trust me, I’m not trying to tempt you.” I drank from my glass in a feint attempt to remain casual in the wake of his words.

“Kristen, every time you walk in the room, you tempt me.”

“Okay.” I swiped the wine away from his hand and placed both our glasses on the coffee table. “Enough liquid courage for you.”

“You started it,” he said in a manner that David would have referred to as cheeky.

“Well, now I’m stopping it.”

“That’s the catch now, isn’t it?” Harry moved closer to me, his thigh pressing against mine. The natural heat from our bodies was like an electrical current between us.

“What on earth are you talking about?” I said, trying my damnedest to remain in control and prove Brit wrong.

“Starting things you aren’t prepared to finish.” While his words swam in my head, Harry leaned in closer. His lips just inches from mine.

I panicked.

Jumping up, I took a step back and stammered, “Um, I don’t think I can drive home, just yet. Too much wine. I’m going to lie down in David’s room for a bit and sober up.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Want? I wanted to kiss him without feeling guilty. I wanted to deny the feelings that had taken root. But most of all, I wanted to go back to the way things were when he was just a friend, and I had the most amazing man in the world by my side. What I wanted was my old life back. I didn’t know what was real anymore and what was just playing pretend.

I didn’t answer, just nodded and scooped Beast up off the floor and carried him down the hall. I needed him to protect me. From the ghost of David’s room. From Harry’s advances. But most of all from myself. I laid down on the bed, my heart pounding.

Beast circled the bed a few times before settling down on the pillow beside me. I listened to his light breathing, finding comfort in how simple his life was. I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through old pictures of me and David. We looked so happy. So in love. I still loved him, that’s why everything hurt so bad. I kept scrolling and found a picture Brit had taken last Christmas. We were in David’s apartment, and both Harry and David were giving me a kiss on the cheek. I was laughing and closing my eyes. Suddenly, that picture—which was one of my favorites—didn’t seem so innocent anymore.

“Oh god…” The cat looked up at me. “Beast, what am I doing?”