Mirepoix (A Recipe Of Love Book 1) (12 page)

BOOK: Mirepoix (A Recipe Of Love Book 1)
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With a laugh she has the photographer turn the camera for me to look at the last picture. “I’m not the only one who turns into an overprotective bear. That one is for my friend, so email me when it’s finished.” she says to the photographer while handing him a card. “Are we done here?” she asks Heather who has no choice but to nod knowing I hadn’t agreed to anything but the shoot today. I’ve become very protective of my day off lately. With a nod she claps her hands, “Okay that’s a wrap, let’s go kids. I have Halloween shit to buy and someone owes me booze.”

She breezes out the door completely secure in the fact that she’s getting her way. I’m beginning to understand why Frankie thinks we’re so much alike. I oddly have no problem with that, she may be evil but she’s also one of the best people I know.

 

14

“Come on, let’s stop at my place so I can put on jeans.” Joe drags me behind him to a massive high-rise apartment building. I should have known instead of one of the small row homes, or an older apartment, he would live in a swank new apartment. Not because it’s what suits him but because it would take the least amount of effort for him to find.

“You picked this place online without ever seeing it, didn’t you?” I ask while looking up at shiny glass of the building. This is definitely one of the places
where they have to bring in guys who balance on the tiny scaffolding thing to wash the windows. I spend a good minute trying to remember what that thing is called before giving up. It would be awesome if they brought guys in superhero costumes in to rappel down like they do at hospitals for kids.  I bet there could be a market for ripped half-naked men doing the same, plenty of women would enjoy that sight.

“Yeah, I did in fact. I wanted something nearby. It’s pretty much just a fancy crash pad. I lucked out with one with a twenty-four-hour gym and pool in the basement, not to mention off street parking” He admits as he pulls me into the slick lobby. Everywhere you look is shiny marble or chrome. Even the brunette behind the desk tucked off to the side is slick looking, with her hair that looks like it belongs on a fancy doll. She has the perfect long tousled curls that appear effortless and soft but probably took hours to achieve and have enough product to deserve their own flammable warning label.

I watch her look over Lindsay and I quickly before dismissing us as unimportant. Women like her and the hostess can glance at a woman and determine based on their shoes, purse, clothes and jewelry whether they think they’re a threat in seconds. We’re both wearing basic black, boots and our only jewelry is stainless steel body jewelry. I have my trio of hoops in my ears and Lindsay is rocking the lip ring she got recently. We definitely look like the rock chicks that give zero fucks that we are.

“This is Frankie and I want her added to the list to be able to come up without needing to buzz. Frankie give her your ID so she can add you please.” I can see the shock and disappointment shift through her eyes before she dons a polite bland smile taking my ID. I’m guessing she was hoping one day Joe would invite her to join him in his apartment. I glance at Joe and realize she could be a three hundred pound man for all the interest he has. He reaches out and toys with the ends of my hair that I left loose to fall in a sheet to my ass today. I normally keep it tied up, so it doesn’t get in anything but I can’t bring myself to cut it off.

As soon as I get my card back from the hostess type lady, we follow quietly behind to a bank of elevators and wait for a car to arrive. This is the type of place where you’re naturally quiet, like hospitals and libraries, always afraid to make any noise that will break the stillness. When the elevator doors slide open they reveal more shininess, the perverse side of me wants to put fingerprints everywhere I can reach. I glance at Lindsay out of the corner of my eye and see she is having the same thoughts as I am based on how she’s looking at me too. Joe apparently picks up on our thoughts because his reflection in the doors that just shut is shaking its head.

Once we’re released from the cold sterile cube, we follow Joe to a doorway identical to its neighbors. There’s not one single wreath or doormat to personalize the space and differentiate from each other. I absently wonder if everyone is just not interested in making the space their own or if they’re not allowed to. Either option is just too depressing for me to fathom.

We file through the door Joe is holding open for us and I have to work to keep my expression bland. I know he told us that his place was just a fancy flop pad, but I didn’t expect such a cold sterile feel. The only personal touches I can see are in the tiny kitchen where his equipment takes up every inch of counter space. There’s a beige couch in the tiny living room, it’s
book ended by black end tables topped with silver lamps with white frosted glass globes. There’s a matching coffee table in front of the couch, its surface bare.  Two chairs similar in style but different colors sit off to the side of the room. The only other thing in the room is the flat screen mounted on the wall opposite the couch.

The single redeeming part of the room is the amazing view, I walk closer to the sheet of solid glass and tentatively reach out to touch it with the tips of my fingers. It's so clean it looks like you could just walk right out of the wall and plummet to your death. They definitely have to employ a fleet of window washers to keep it this clean. I look out over the city and am reminded how much I love it. We’re up high enough I can see west to where William Penn stands tall atop City hall in Center City. I absently wish Joe had a corner apartment so I could see south as well.

I turn and see Joe watching me take the city in. The look on his face lets me know my reaction to his spartan decorating style didn’t go unnoticed. I can’t bring myself to feel too bad as I have seen staged apartments with rented furniture that have more personality than his does. Crossing to him I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest and listen to his heart beating. After allowing myself a few moments I pull back and start down the hallway where I’m guessing his bedroom is.

“Come on let’s hurry up and grab your stuff so we can go. No offense but I think we’ll keep spending most of our time at my place. At least there I won’t have a beautiful brunette assessing my threat level to her dream of being up here with you.” I feel his hand tense in mine but ignore it and keep going. I look in his bedroom and see a plain black dresser topped with another flat screen television, and a big bed with gray sheets and crooked black blanket. The bedding at least looks soft and comfortable. I spend a moment debating on diving in and rolling around to test out my theory.

My plans for textile exploration are sidelined when I glance back and see the whitest bathroom I have ever seen in my life. Every surface that isn’t chrome or mirrored is white; the countertops, the sink, the toilet, the tile and the walls are white. I get closer and see even the grout on the tiled floor is a pale gray that is just a few hues away from white. The only spot of color I see is the loan towel hanging over a rod absently, you can tell it’s not decorative but the one Joe used last.

“Lindsay you have got to get back here and see this. I think we may get frostbite from this bathroom!” I guiltily look at Joe afraid I may have somehow hurt his feelings, I don’t blame him for this room I blame whoever designed this cold sterile building. Luckily he is shaking his head at me again, amusement clear on his face. I turn back as I hear Lindsay gasp when she takes in the bathroom.

“I only have one question, what did they do with the penguins that this ice palace was clearly designed for?”

15

“Come on you big baby just eat it!” I tease as I push the plate in front of Joe. I watch him eye the plate with obvious disgust and barely resist the urge to chuckle. I made one of my favorite comfort food dishes tonight of ham and potato casserole. Apparently casseroles offend his delicate chef sensibilities or something. I don’t much care what it looks like, just that it tastes amazing. I made a massive ham yesterday knowing that I could use the leftovers to make a few dishes this week, specifically this dish. My mom used to make it for me after she died I taught Gram how to make it the same way. She would make it for me whenever she knew I would be missing my parents. I grin when I see Joe sample a small bite of the casserole and his eyes widen in shock.

“This is actually delicious! It looks like it should just be a mushy mess but the cracker topping provide the perfect amount of crunch.” He’s devouring his food like he hasn’t eaten all day. I know that’s not true since this is our standing Monday and we’ve spent all day together. We started the day with delicious ham and pepper frittatas and spent a lazy day curled up on my couch.

“My mom used to make this for me all the time, normally my dad did the cooking if he had time so I always loved anything she made since it was special. Everything was just basic comfort food but I could taste the love in it.” I explain as I savor the creamy cheese sauce I put in it. “I make it whenever I’m missing her or my Gram. This and lasagna are the two dishes that just mean family to me.”

“Why are you missing her right now Pixie?” he asked while watching me intently, I knew he wouldn’t miss the importance of me making this dish. He is always so attuned to my emotions, and well it would be overwhelming, if it weren’t so comforting.

“It’s almost Halloween which has always been my favorite holiday. When I was little, she would make me fun costumes and take me trick or treating after moving in with Gram she would take me trick or treating around the Italian Market.” I say softly as I remember all the different outfits we came up with. “I was never the typical princess. One of my absolute favorites was Wednesday Addams, not just because of how much I love the character, but Gram and I spent weeks going to different thrift shops trying to find the exact right clothes to make the costume. In the end we bought fabric and sewed one ourselves, it was the first time I had ever sewn anything and I’ll never forget.”

“I bet you were an adorable Wednesday! Do you have any plans this year?”

“Yeah, Lindsay and I are going to Drac’s Ball like we always do. I really miss it being at the old location and the funky bathrooms but it’s our own personal tradition. I would ask you to join us but it’s on a Saturday night.” I’m excited but at the same time a little sad I can’t bring Joe. I highly doubt that Mr. Focus ever makes time to get out and experience some of the fun events that our city has to offer.

“What time is it over? I can have my sous chef take over for me and close up so that I can come over after the main dinner rush. Depending on where it’s at I can probably get there around 11:30 or midnight if that’s okay?” he tilts his head and looks up at me hesitantly. I realize for once he is the one unsure of himself and I don’t like that I might have somehow made him feel unwelcome.

I squeal and jump off my stool straight at Joe knowing he will catch me and keep us from falling. He easily does and swings my legs to the side so I’m curled up on his lap with my head on his chest with his strong arms wrapped around me. I resist rubbing against him like a kitten for now and lean back to smile into his face.

“Yes, yes please! It’s so much fun there! No one judges anyone else because they’re all freaks and outcasts too! It’s a blast with different industrial bands and DJ’s performing. You can walk down and be there by 11:30. I’ll pick up another ticket and give it to you this week! Are you going to dress up?”

“I draw the line at dressing up babe. I’ll run to my place and take a shower in the Ice Palace as you deemed it and throw on some clean clothes before walking down. What are you dressing up as?” he is running his hand up and down my thigh now. I think he meant it to be comforting, but it’s having the opposite effect. He’s using just his fingertips, and some how the super delicate touch from his big hands is making my nerves sing.

“It’s a secret. I had one costume in mind but now that I know you’ll be there I have the perfect thing! You’ll love it!” I lean in and nip the edge of his jaw mischievously. His hand suddenly stills and his fingers dig in hard. He must have just realized what his innocent touch ignited in me. He reaches up with his other hand and tugs my pony tail making me look him in the eye again. I can only imagine what I look like right now with the amount of desire flooding my system. Joe’s face looks like it’s carved from granite. His pupils have taken over his eyes and his nostrils are flared as he reads all the signs of lust. Being held immobile is doing nothing but increasing my need. I’m shocked that Joe can’t feel a damp spot on his leg from how wet I am. I draw a deep breath in hoping to calm my racing heart but all I can smell is Joe which amps up my passion.

“So my Pixie wants to play?” He leans in an nips my jaw the same place I nipped his after using my hair to pull my head back more. He follows it up by licking up my exposed vulnerable throat slowly before biting my earlobe punishingly.

“Please, Joe.” I beg breathlessly, months of sleeping together means we know each other’s sensitive spots and how exactly to exploit them. I don’t mean just on our bodies either, Joe can get inside my head and know exactly when I need gentle tender loving or mean dirty fucking. He can amp up my excitement to the point I think I’m going to explode or keep me at a low simmer and prolong my agony until I’m begging for release.

“I want you to get undressed, go in the bedroom and lay down on your bed on your stomach. Make sure you strip everything off the bed first, down to just the fitted sheet. I’ll take care of the dishes and be right in.” he whispers huskily in my ear. I scramble off his lap to do his bidding before he even releases my hair. I feel myself stopped suddenly when he doesn’t immediately let go.

BOOK: Mirepoix (A Recipe Of Love Book 1)
8.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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