Page 20 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)
Chapter Twenty
Wolseley
W ith all my sudden newfound wealth—okay, maybe I wasn’t rich, but this was the most money I’d ever had coming in—I was working myself to the bone. Not only was I cooking for two now, but Ryan and Brandon’s food choices didn’t exactly mesh well. Ryan wanted much more meat-derived proteins in his diet, which posed a bit of a challenge for me, so I came up with an ingenious plan. Ryan’s pickup person, Delia, was a foodie, which worked in my favor. While working as a delivery driver for various food apps, she was saving up money to go to culinary school. How lucky was I? So with Ryan’s permission, I hired her part-time as my assistant. Essentially, she was my sous chef and taster.
She worked for me three hours a day whenever the guys were in town. I coordinated her hours around her delivery job, and then when we were finished prepping food for the guys, she took the food to Ryan.
“What you and Ryan are paying me in four hours of work is more than I make in three days doing deliveries,” she said, her light brown eyes lighting up as she watched me dice through onions. I’d been showing her techniques even though it slowed us down, but I remembered being in her shoes, and I would have killed for someone to take me under their wing.
Delia was in her early twenties, saving up money while still living at home in Surrey. She came into Vancouver every day, did deliveries all day long in the downtown area, dropped her bike off at a family friend’s place nearby, and then repeated the same thing the next day. She worked seven days a week, determined to save money to one day move out into a place of her own and get herself into culinary school. She wasn’t much taller than me, but she was probably a hundred pounds. I’d need to fatten her up a bit, but then again, she cycled around the city all day. The woman was a machine.
“I’m happy to answer any questions you have,” I said, as we moved on to making my homemade spaghetti. She observed, took notes on her phone, then helped me with the meat sauce Ryan insisted on. She was going to taste the final product and let me know what it was missing.
I spent some time testing her palate with different foods until I was satisfied she could make the final call on certain dishes. And as an added bonus of the job, we always made a little extra for her to take home. She did need to eat.
“How did Ryan find you?” I asked as she browned the meat to my specifications.
“He ordered out a lot, and I delivered to him all the time. He was always a generous tipper. I got to know him, and then he asked if he could hire me to get food from you. It was a no-brainer.”
“And he’s nice? Tell me he’s not hitting on you.”
She laughed, nervously brushing away hair that wasn’t there. She was meticulous about keeping her dirty-blond hair tied back in a tight bun. “He’s always been super sweet. No hitting on me at all.”
“Just making sure he’s not getting handsy.” The moment the words left my mouth, I realized I sounded exactly like my mother! Did that happen when you hit thirty? You started sounding like your parents?
Pushing that thought aside, I went through the week’s menu with her. How we’d arranged it was that she’d work from ten thirty to noon with me, do deliveries, then come back and work another hour or so before heading over to Ryan’s with dinner and his late-night meal. She’d only been working with me a few days, but we had the schedule down, and she appreciated being able to work the lunch and dinner rushes doing her deliveries. After she left, I would focus on Brandon’s late-night meal and prep all the snacks for Ryan and Brandon. While it had only been a week, I was beyond exhausted. I’d been having trouble sleeping, too worried about meal plans. But it would sort itself out once I had a routine. I knew that.
Brandon had been napping while we were working. The man could sleep through a police siren outside his door, but we still made every effort to be as quiet as possible, which was difficult with his open-concept kitchen. But he looked fresh and awake when he came out of his room around two, ready to eat something before the game. He chowed down while Delia and I worked, and then he was gone.
“He is super cool,” Delia said after he’d left. “He doesn’t give you any grief. You have no idea how many jerks I have to deal with when their orders are wrong. And I’m just the delivery person, but they need to complain to someone, I guess.”
“That sounds rough. But you’re right. Brandon is easy to work with. I think Ryan is too. I’m sure they’re both happy not to have to worry about making or getting food. ”
Once Delia was gone, and I finished prepping Brandon’s late-night meal, I got to work on protein bars. I finished my first batch and realized I hadn’t eaten myself. I had some of the leftover pasta and then sat down for a bit. I’d been on my feet the whole day, and I needed a few minutes to rest. I took in some deep breaths and did a few meditation techniques I’d learned on a month-long trip through India. I’d gone all over the country tasting food and learning to meditate. Those memories came flooding back, and when I opened my eyes, I was immediately disoriented. Where the hell was I? The room was unfamiliar. My God, had someone broken into Brandon’s condo and abducted me? I shot straight up, realizing I was still in my jeans and old Janis Joplin concert T-shirt. My phone was in my pocket, so I could at least call someone to help me. I jumped out of the bed, relieved that the abductor hadn’t restrained me. I tiptoed to the closed door, thankful it wasn’t locked, and quietly opened it. I peered down the short hallway and nearly burst out in laughter. I was in Brandon’s spare bedroom. Then it hit me. How the hell had I gotten there?
After the discovery of where I was, the next thing I checked on was the time. It was just after five in the morning. I quickly went home, showered and changed, and was back before Brandon was up. I got the coffee started and surveyed my situation. The kitchen was spotless. He’d put away the protein bars, cleaned the dishes and pots, and wiped down all the countertops. I hoped he wasn’t mad at the way I’d left the kitchen. I hadn’t expected to fall asleep for ten hours!
Brandon liked hearty breakfasts after a game, so that’s what I got started on. One cheese-and-veggie omelet with some of my bread. I whipped up a fruit salad and some hot quinoa cereal. I was finishing up when he wandered into the kitchen, letting out a yawn. I watched him closely to see if he was pissed, but he seemed himself.
“I am so sorry about last night,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me. And you shouldn’t have cleaned up. I would have done it this morning.”
“I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You were passed out on my sofa, so I thought you’d be more comfortable in the spare room. As for cleaning, I was a little wired after the game. We lost. Badly. So I needed to get rid of some pent-up energy after reading all of my dad’s unhelpful texts.”
He carried me to the spare bedroom, and I’d missed the whole thing.
“How badly did you lose?” was all I could think to ask. I decided not to ask about his dad. It was definitely a sore spot.
“We lost six-nothing at home. It’s embarrassing.”
I grimaced as I poured him some coffee. He sat at the island and hunched over the cup.
“That sucks,” I said.
“The boo birds came out at the end of the game. Can’t say I blame the fans.”
“Do you have practice today?” I asked. I plated the first portion of his breakfast. He liked to start with protein, so it was the omelet.
“It’s optional, and while I should be there, I could use a day off to forget about last night.”
“Good plan. What’s on the agenda?” I asked, making small talk. I also needed to know when he planned to be around for lunch and dinner.
“I have no agenda today. I think it’s to do fuck all. What’s on your agenda?”
“I’m hitting Norman’s for some groceries, then heading to Yee’s Market for produce. Want to come? ”
I’d said it before I’d thought about it. Why on earth would he want to go grocery shopping? How boring to watch me wander the aisles picking out food, but before I could take the invitation back, he opened his mouth to speak.
“I think I’d like that. When do we leave?”