by Emma Quinn
“You mentioned before that they used to come here.”
“They did. When the recession hit, they really struggled financially. Grandpa had to come out of retirement to make ends meet. I even got myself a part-time job working at McDonalds, but… Well, you know. Minimum wage at less than ten hours a week doesn’t really make a dent in the bills.”
“Do you see them very often?”
My chest tightened when I saw her expression falter.
“They passed away about a year ago,” she said, so quiet she was barely audible over the hum over the hood fans. “Old age. They actually died within hours of each other.”
The urge to pull Dianna into my arms was overwhelming. She was too sweet, too kind to deserve any of this. But the preparation counter was in the way, and the food was just about done. I couldn’t just abandon my post. Instead, I reached across the table and placed my hand over hers, giving her fingers a light squeeze. It amazed me how soft her hands were. It was like running my hand over a plush pillow, comforting and warm and gentle.
“I’m okay,” she insisted, squeezing my hand back. “I’m just glad they’re together, you know?”
I smiled. “Yeah. I get that.”
Dianna stared into my eyes with an intense focus, like she was searching for something. Her gaze eventually trailed down to my lips where they lingered, a little longer than necessary. I honestly couldn’t say that I minded.
“Nathan?”
“Yes?”
“I think the water’s boiling over.”
Sure enough, the vicious hiss of hot water against the stove element ripped me from my thoughts. The spaghetti noodles were down, the sauce was perfect, and the meatballs were baked to perfection. I moved swiftly, plating up for the two of us before carrying the rest towards the front of the Soup Kitchen.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Dianna over my shoulder as I exited the kitchen through its massive double swinging doors.
I heard her giggle. “I’ll be here.”
Patty took the food from me and pinched my cheeks. “Thanks, Nate. Our guests are going to love it. You really shouldn’t have.”
“There should be enough to serve at least twenty of them. Sorry I didn’t make more.”
She shook her head. “Don’t you dare apologize. We aren’t that busy tonight, anyways. This’ll be more than enough. Now, get back to your girl. She seems nice.”
I chuckled. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do, son. Will do.”
I returned to the kitchen and brought up another stool to sit next to Dianna. I found her with her camera out, already taking pictures of her meal. As soon as I entered, she trained the lens on me.
“Smile!”
I shook my head, but managed to laugh. I put my hand up to try and cover my face from view.
Dianna grinned. “Don’t be shy. I just want to get a pic of the master chef.”
I sighed. There was just something about Dianna that made it impossible to say no. “Alright, alright,” I relented. “Just one. The food’s getting cold.”
She squealed, happy like a child loose in a candy store. For some reason, it made me happy to see her happy.
9
Dianna
D
inner, in a word, was delicious. It was more than delicious, actually, but I didn’t have the exact words to describe just how good it was. And the fact that I got to watch Nathan prepare it right in front of me? Talk about amazing. It was like getting dinner and a show.
I was mesmerized by the movement of his hands, the broadness of his shoulders, and the surety in his dark eyes. I’d never seen anything like it. His fingers were thick, and yet surprisingly nimble. His sturdy grip wrapped around the handle of a knife shouldn’t have been as hypnotizing as it was. I couldn’t bring myself to look away as he kneaded the pasta dough, sprinkling flour every now and then with the utmost care.
I wondered what it would be like to have his hands on me.
When he held my hand, I could have sworn my heart was seconds away from bursting in my chest. His hands were rough against mine, but not unpleasant. It’d be a thrill to feel his fingers trailing down the sides of my body, grabbing at me greedily wherever he wanted. I wanted to know what it would feel like to be wrapped in his strong arms. I needed to know what it was like to have his eyes raking over my bare skin.
“Are you cold?” he asked. “We can crank the heat up, if you’d like.”
We were in his Tesla, driving back towards the city to drop me off. If I was being perfectly honest, I didn’t want the night to end just yet.
“The temperature’s fine,” I said.
As we drove, I chanced several sideways glances at Nathan. Maybe it was because I was a photographer that I could truly appreciate the hard lines of his face. To compare him to a perfectly sculpted marble statue wouldn’t have done him justice. To compare him to a classical portrait by one of the greats also wouldn’t have been a worthy enough comparison.
I liked the angle of his jaw. There was a serious quality to him, a stoicism that made me wonder what was going on inside his head. A part of me really wanted to reach out and graze my fingers over his stubble, just so I could feel the rough sensation on my fingertips. I wanted to know what his lips would feel like against mine. Maybe, if he was up for it, I’d like to take a few more pictures of him against the dark background of the LA skyline. I wanted to capture his ruggedness within a frame, admire it for as long as I dared.
“Is there something on my face?” he asked me, voice a low rumble that took me by surprise.
I giggled at him. “No, nothing like that. I was just thinking about how handsome you are.”
He shifted in his seat, looking the closest to embarrassed I’d ever seen him. The skin at the nape of his neck flushed the faintest red, but he appeared otherwise unaffected.
“You don’t get complimented very often, huh?” I teased.
“It’s not that.”
“Oh? You do get complimented often?”
“Yes, but you actually mean it.”
This piqued my curiosity. “Lots of brownnosers at Monteverde?”
“Something like that. Everybody seems to want a piece of me, but I can’t tell who’s being genuine or not.”
I dared to reach across and place my hand gingerly on his forearm. The hard curves of his muscle beneath his button-down shirt was as startling as it was impressive.
“I’m sure they’re all being genuine,” I said. “Why wouldn’t they be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s a little complicated.”
“Well, I mean it.”
The corner of his lips tugged upwards into a smile. “I know you do.”
We eventually pulled up in front of my apartment complex. It really wasn’t much to look at from the outside. Graffiti covered the brick exterior, trash was piled up by the curb for collection in the morning, and the faint smell of urine and beer from the bar down the street filled the air. Nevertheless, the dark sky above our heads and the soft glow over the silver moon did wonders in casting our surroundings in a romantic light.
Nathan, ever the gentleman, hopped out of the car and circled around front to open the door open for me. He even offered me his hand to help me out of the low-ride car. I graciously accepted his offer, trying my absolute best –and failing– not to smile like an idiot.
“I had fun tonight,” I told him.
“I did, too.”
I fiddled with my keychain, a little anxious. It was easy to get lost in his eyes, in the heat of his body when he stood this close.
“Do you want to come up for a cup of coffee?” I asked before I had the chance to really think. It was an innocent enough question. I really did want to offer Nathan a cup of coffee. But then the tiny, annoying voice in the back of my mind made me question my intentions.
What are you doing?
‘Coffee’ isn’t actually coffee.
Aren’t you moving too fast? What if you
freak him out?
“Coffee sounds nice,” Nathan replied calmly.
A nervous giggle bubbled past my lips. “Oh, okay.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “‘Oh?’”
I waved a dismissive hand at him. “No, no. Come on up. Please.”
“Are you sure? I don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with–”
Something wild and feverish overcame me, moved my body without my say so. I reached for his shirt collar and pulled him down, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. I had to hop up onto my toes to press my lips to his, holding my breath in anticipation.
Much to my relief, Nathan slid his arms around my waist and held me even closer. I practically melted into his touch, the heat of his body soaking into my skin. It surprised me how gently he held me, like I was made of fragile glass. I reached up to graze my hands along his jaw, the slight burn of his stubble against my chin and fingers everything I’d ever hoped. I combed my fingers through his short hair and marveled at how stupidly soft it was.
He broke away for a moment, looking into my eyes. “Dianna, listen. There’s something I need to tell–”
“Dianna!” someone behind us shouted.
Nathan and I both turned suddenly, letting go of one another as a familiar man approached. I recognized his graphic t-shirt and greasy long hair even before I arrived.
“Stephen?” I called, confused. “What are you doing here?”
“I, uh– I was just, um… I was in the area. Going for a nighttime jog, you know?”
Nathan frowned and crossed his arms. “Jogging in jeans?” he observed flatly.
Stephen’s pimply face flushed bright red, the sticky sheen of sweat across his brow. He crossed his arms as well, mimicking Nathan’s stance. It was like watching a fox square up against a bear.
“Y-yeah?” he grumbled. “So?”
“It’s almost eleven. Not exactly the safest time to go for a run. You live in the area?”
“W-what’s it to you?”
Nathan set his jaw and stared Stephen down. I was certain I could see Stephen’s knees shaking. Nathan didn’t look to be a violent man, but I didn’t want to run the risk of anything happening. Things were escalating far too quickly for my liking, and in the off chance there was a fight, Stephen likely wasn’t going to be the one to come out on top.
I stepped in between them, raising my hands to keep them apart.
“Now, now,” I said cautiously, “it’s getting pretty late. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Stephen.”
“But I– Uh, yeah. Okay. I guess I’ll see you there.”
After giving Nathan one last pointed glare, he turned on his heel to leave.
“Who was that guy?” Nathan asked, irritation dripping off his every word.
“Just a guy I work with. He’s one of the light technicians who’s a part of my team.”
“He lives around here?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I actually have no idea. He’s new to the company. I haven’t really gotten the chance to know him. He seems sweet, though.”
Nathan squinted at me, suspicion written all over his face. “Okay, then,” he mumbled under his breath.
I picked at under my fingernails. “Do you… Do you still want to come up for coffee?”
Nathan’s expression instantly relaxed, softening into a gentle smile. He nodded and slipped a protective arm around the back of my waist. “Sounds great,” he said.
We walked up the front steps of my apartment complex. As I typed in the buzzer code to get through the front doors, I couldn’t help but notice Nathan throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder in the direction Stephen walked off. Curious, I took a look as well, but there was nobody in sight.
I took Nathan’s hand in my own, threading my fingers with his before giving him a gentle tug.
“Come on,” I said. “This way.”
I was really thankful I took the time to spruce up the apartment earlier today. It would have been a pigsty, otherwise.
“Feel free to take a look around,” I told Nathan as I headed to the kitchen, which was immediately to the right of the apartment’s front door. I flicked on the light and shrugged off my jean jacket it, slinging it onto the back of the kitchen chair. There was still enough ground coffee left over in the cupboard above the stove, so I immediately took the little bag down and go to work on making a fresh pot.
Nathan seemed a little stunned at my surroundings, examining the space with what must have been wide-eyed fascination.
“I-is something wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried that the place was too messy by his standards. It was true that it was cramped, and the bathroom was so close to the eating area that the scent of old shower water often mixed with the smells of the kitchen, but that was what all studio apartments were like.
He shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. Your place is really… It’s got a lot of character.” He pointed at the framed pictures on my wall. “Did you take these?”
They were a bunch of pictures I’d taken as a part of my showcase portfolio for my degree’s graduation requirement. They were a mix of different cityscapes, nature stills, random people I’d passed by on the street. There were a couple of photos of me and Rachel together, along with a few of our other friends from college.
“School project,” I explained. “I didn’t score too high.”
“Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately. My professors said that I lacked ‘thematic focus’ or whatever.”
“But these are so beautiful.”
A warmth bloomed across my chest. “That’s really sweet of you to say.”
“I’m being serious, Dianna. These are gorgeous. I’m tempted to buy one off you to hang in my office.”
I walked over with a mug of coffee for him. He took it gratefully, our fingers grazing over one another for the briefest moment.
“Who’s this guy?” he asked, pointing at an old picture of me and Tommy at Disneyland that I totally forgot to take down. I was all smiles in the picture, wearing one of those stupid Mickey Mouse ear hats. Tommy couldn’t have looked more disengaged.
I took the picture frame off the wall and set it face-down on the kitchen table. “Old boyfriend,” I mumbled.
“Things didn’t end well, I take it?”
I shook my head. “Bastard cheated on me.”
Nathan’s eyebrows knitted together. “Why the fuck would he do that?”
I managed a laugh, both shocked and amused at his harsh language. He seemed angrier about my being cheated on than me.
“Because Tommy was an asshole,” I explained simply. “And I was stupid for not seeing it sooner.”
“You’re not stupid, Dianna.”
“Nah. I was definitely being stupid. Tommy would lie over and over and over again, but I’d ignore all the red flags.”
Nathan swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he did, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he brought his coffee mug up to his lips.
“He lied to you?” he mumbled. “What did he… Why?”
I shrugged. “It started out as little things. Nothing that I thought was worth confronting him about, you know? They were white lies at first. He’d say he liked the food I made for dinner. Turns out, he hated my cooking.”
“That… That doesn’t sound so bad.”
I clicked my tongue. “Yeah, well. You’re right. But then he got bolder over time. He’d tell me he was still working late when he was actually out with his buddies getting drinks. Or he’d tell me he hadn’t gotten paid yet, so he’d ask to borrow from me when he actually had plenty of money in his account.”
Nathan’s face darkened. “That’s terrible.”
“I know. I think I just let it slide so often that he thought he could get away with things.” I stared into my black coffee, watched the calming bubbles swirl around the edges of the mug. “And then one day he didn’t come home. I was so worried about him. I tried calling him and texting him, but he di
dn’t answer. I was this close to calling the cops, but then he stumbled in. ‘Drunk as a skunk,’ Grandma used to say. “
“Where was he?” Nathan asked, voice so soft I almost didn’t hear him.
“He met a girl at a bar. Hooked up with her and stayed overnight at her place.” My throat started to close up at the memory. Nathan was standing exactly where Tommy had been when we broke up. I managed a pathetic, bitter chuckle. “He tried to tell me nothing happened, but I was so done at that point. I can’t stand liars.”
A heavy silence lingered in the air. Nathan seemed to be frozen in place, staring at a spot on the floor with his face twisted up in discomfort. Panic gripped at me.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered quickly. “I’ve totally killed the mood, haven’t I? That’s so me. Talk, talk, talk. You can just tell me to shut up if I’m annoying you, you know.”
Nathan placed his coffee down on the kitchen table and shook his head slowly, moving to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. His touch was so gentle that it tickled my cheek and left the blood in my veins rushing right past my ears.
“You do talk a lot,” he admitted. “But I like that about you.”
I rolled my eyes and snorted. “Yeah, well… You’re not so bad yourself.”
“That makes me happy to hear.”
I tilted my chin in the direction of my daybed. “Do you… Do you want to take a seat? I was really kind of hoping to kiss you again.”
Nathan broke out into a smile brighter than the sun reflecting off of freshly fallen snow. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’d like that, too.”
Just as he was about to lean in for another kiss, a thought occurred to me.
“Didn’t you say there was something you wanted to tell me?” I asked. “Outside. Before Stephen interrupted.”
Nathan combed his fingers through my hair and shook his head. He was so close I could feel his breath tickling my cheeks.
“It’s nothing,” he said before crashing his lips to mine.
10
