Page 321
Tatum
“I missed what braising is,”I whisper to Natalie.
A spatula slaps the cutting board in front of me. “Zip it, Ms?” Chef Marcelles yells in an intense French accent from right behind me.
I turn around and say, “Devreux.”
“Ah. Oui. Oui. French. Tres magnifique.” He comes closer. “No talking in my class. Oui?”
“Oui?”
When I turn back to Natalie with wide eyes, she gets my drift without using words:he’s an asshole.
“That class was intense,” I say, “like Marcelle, and that was only the first one.”
“It was incredible, right?” Natalie cheerfully raves, hands in the air and all. “And who knew that brown butter was a secret weapon for the perfect short ribs? Not me.”
“I thought brown butter was just butter that’s cooked until brown?”
She laughs. “It is.” Staring down at the rest of her shopping list, she says, “I have a lot of shopping tomorrow for short ribs. I want to practice before Cookie and Corbin fly in next month for Juni and Andrew’s delivery. The guys have a bet going, and Nick’s going with the Fourth of July.”
“That’s too early. I’m feeling July eighteenth.”
“Really?” she asks as if I just told her she won a million dollars a week for life sweepstakes. “I told Nick the same date.”
“Great minds and all. Hey, before you take off, can I ask your advice?”
She adjusts her bag to the crook of her arm. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
“You know how Harrison and I are taking a little break?”
“Yes.”Of course, she does.
Harrison has flown back and forth a few times. I only know that because I’m told I can come over because the coast is clear.
Beyond that, I have no idea if he’s had to show anyone else properties in New York. I have no clue what he’s done in New York at all. I’ve felt blind about anything to do with him, and that just feels wrong.
My offer was accepted on the property next to Nat and Nick, but I’ve only spoken to Robert about that. He’s organized the various building inspections, and I’m about to sign a contract. That’s still a surprise to Natalie and Nick, though. Unless Harrison’s spilled the beans to Nick already.Wouldn’t Nat tell me if she knew, though?Once again, I have no idea, and I hate that it feels like they’re living a whole other life that I’m not privy to. I wonder if Harrison feels the same.I wonder if he asks about me when he’s here.
“I want to call him. It’s already been eleven days.” I look down at my watch. “Seventeen hours and some odd minutes, but the apartment’s not the same without him cooking or hogging the shower, taking up the side of the bed that I don’t use, and I’m always cold. He was a really great heater at night.”
“So what you’re saying is that you miss him?”
Sometimes it’s just best to cut to the chase. “I miss him, Nat. Does that make me sad that me missing him is the biggest revelation I’ve had since he’s been gone?”
“I think it’s a good thing, and quite honestly, exactly what he wants you to realize.” She touches my belly. I never mind when she does. I even get to touch her belly that’s just recently popped out a little. She basically looks like she ate a hoagie for lunch.
We move off to the side of the restaurant doors where they hold the cooking class. She goes on, “The question seemed simple, but it’s really complex. If you weren’t pregnant, would you want to be with him?”Yes. One hundred times, yes.
“I was doing that already. I was living that life and want it back. I want him back.”
“Then you have your answer.”
“I guess I do.” We hug goodbye and head in separate directions. It’s tempting to want the perfect setting to make confessions of the heart, but I don’t want to waste any time. So I call him.
The trill of a female laughing fills the line, and I hold the phone away from my face to double-check that I didn’t misdial. Nope. Harrison Decker is at the top of the screen. The voice says, “Hello?”
“Sorry, I got the wrong number.”
“I missed what braising is,”I whisper to Natalie.
A spatula slaps the cutting board in front of me. “Zip it, Ms?” Chef Marcelles yells in an intense French accent from right behind me.
I turn around and say, “Devreux.”
“Ah. Oui. Oui. French. Tres magnifique.” He comes closer. “No talking in my class. Oui?”
“Oui?”
When I turn back to Natalie with wide eyes, she gets my drift without using words:he’s an asshole.
“That class was intense,” I say, “like Marcelle, and that was only the first one.”
“It was incredible, right?” Natalie cheerfully raves, hands in the air and all. “And who knew that brown butter was a secret weapon for the perfect short ribs? Not me.”
“I thought brown butter was just butter that’s cooked until brown?”
She laughs. “It is.” Staring down at the rest of her shopping list, she says, “I have a lot of shopping tomorrow for short ribs. I want to practice before Cookie and Corbin fly in next month for Juni and Andrew’s delivery. The guys have a bet going, and Nick’s going with the Fourth of July.”
“That’s too early. I’m feeling July eighteenth.”
“Really?” she asks as if I just told her she won a million dollars a week for life sweepstakes. “I told Nick the same date.”
“Great minds and all. Hey, before you take off, can I ask your advice?”
She adjusts her bag to the crook of her arm. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
“You know how Harrison and I are taking a little break?”
“Yes.”Of course, she does.
Harrison has flown back and forth a few times. I only know that because I’m told I can come over because the coast is clear.
Beyond that, I have no idea if he’s had to show anyone else properties in New York. I have no clue what he’s done in New York at all. I’ve felt blind about anything to do with him, and that just feels wrong.
My offer was accepted on the property next to Nat and Nick, but I’ve only spoken to Robert about that. He’s organized the various building inspections, and I’m about to sign a contract. That’s still a surprise to Natalie and Nick, though. Unless Harrison’s spilled the beans to Nick already.Wouldn’t Nat tell me if she knew, though?Once again, I have no idea, and I hate that it feels like they’re living a whole other life that I’m not privy to. I wonder if Harrison feels the same.I wonder if he asks about me when he’s here.
“I want to call him. It’s already been eleven days.” I look down at my watch. “Seventeen hours and some odd minutes, but the apartment’s not the same without him cooking or hogging the shower, taking up the side of the bed that I don’t use, and I’m always cold. He was a really great heater at night.”
“So what you’re saying is that you miss him?”
Sometimes it’s just best to cut to the chase. “I miss him, Nat. Does that make me sad that me missing him is the biggest revelation I’ve had since he’s been gone?”
“I think it’s a good thing, and quite honestly, exactly what he wants you to realize.” She touches my belly. I never mind when she does. I even get to touch her belly that’s just recently popped out a little. She basically looks like she ate a hoagie for lunch.
We move off to the side of the restaurant doors where they hold the cooking class. She goes on, “The question seemed simple, but it’s really complex. If you weren’t pregnant, would you want to be with him?”Yes. One hundred times, yes.
“I was doing that already. I was living that life and want it back. I want him back.”
“Then you have your answer.”
“I guess I do.” We hug goodbye and head in separate directions. It’s tempting to want the perfect setting to make confessions of the heart, but I don’t want to waste any time. So I call him.
The trill of a female laughing fills the line, and I hold the phone away from my face to double-check that I didn’t misdial. Nope. Harrison Decker is at the top of the screen. The voice says, “Hello?”
“Sorry, I got the wrong number.”
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