Chapter Fourteen
Lightly Baked with Just a Dash of Salt
Dane
It only took an hour for Wilks to show his talent as the new executive chef of l’Iris. By the time dinner service started to slow down, there was really nothing left for me to do that couldn’t be done just as well by someone else, and I offered to give Wilks the kitchen.
Apparently, his first name is Jared.
I never really bothered to learn that kind of thing, but it’s his kitchen now.
After the discussion with Wrigley and obligatory coital session that followed, I started to feel a little bit better. Still, it’s going to be a little weird going home tonight.
Maybe Leila’s out with her new boyfriend. Before I’m even to the door of the apartment, though, I can hear her inside singing along to some pop song.
I can’t just hide from her forever, so I unlock and open the door. Once it’s closed, I decide that maybe I can just hide from her forever, and I make it to my room without alerting her to my presence.
My phone’s in my hand a few seconds later.
“Hello?”
“Wrigley, I don’t know what I’m doing here. This whole thing is so uncomfortable. I don’t think I can go through with it.”
“You’ve got to talk to her, Dane,” my new girlfriend says. “I’m not opening up the candy store until you’ve figured out what this is between the two of you.”
That was the agreement before I left for work this morning, but it’s making less and less sense with every passing moment.
“She’s with someone,” I say.
“Right now? The guy’s there?”
“No,” I answer. “I don’t know. I didn’t see him when I came in.”
“Wait, you’re not hiding in your room like a little bitch, are you?”
“She’s out there doing jazzercise and singing along with shit off the radio.”
It’s a while before Wrigley’s done laughing.
“She’s in a good mood,” she says finally. “Now is as good a time as any.”
“Why am I doing this again?”
“Because,” she answers, “I don’t want to start an exclusive relationship with someone whose heart isn’t into it. This is strange enough for me, I’m not about to jump in further if there’s nothing but undertow.”
“But—”
“I know it’s probably nothing,” she says, “but on the off chance that it’s something, you need to talk to her and see where you stand.”
“Can we be in a relationship, but you go back to being callous and sex-crazed?” I ask.
It’s too much to hope. She just laughs and hangs up.
Wrigley was right about one thing, though. Sneaking into my bedroom, closing the door, and calling wasn’t really the strongest move I could have made.
There’s nothing left for me to do but go out there and see what I feel when I do.
I open the door and about startle the shit out of Leila.