Me: I know. But you know I eat at the restaurant. I usually shop on Mondays but with everything that was going on today, I didn’t get out.
That’s a lie, but neither of them believe me about my eating habits. Part of it is my schedule right now. This is just easier than fighting with them.
Allison: Okay.
Dammit. Even over text I can tell that she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t have the time or energy to make her feel better about my choices. I know they suck, but once I get through her wedding, I can catch a breath. I can’t tell her that because she would feel like crap. I refuse to do that to her.
I set my phone down and open my laptop again. McLovin jumps up on my desk and I roll my eyes. I can tell he’s going to be needy—like most men. Not that I’m really complaining. It’s nice to have another living being in my space.
As soon as I pull up the menu plans for the summer, my stomach starts to churn. I hate it. It’s the same boring menu items we use every summer. As a staple in the San Antonio food industry, we have a reputation. There is a base of standard fare most people expect for a Tex Mex establishment. Enchiladas, chimichangas, fajitas. You get my drift. We add a few different things throughout the year to reflect the season and also use some of the season’s fruits and vegetables. Or maybe, something lighter in the summer.
The problem is my parents have been fighting me on so much of it the last few years. I want to branch out, do a few little different things. Bring in fusion kind of dishes, or maybe feature different parts of Mexico and their bounty in those areas. The coastal regions always present seafood, while Mexico City is much more about street food and tradition.
All of those ideas have been knocked down. This year, with so much on my plate, I just don’t have the energy to work up a menu they will refuse to use. The daughter part of me wants to just do what they want. I know it makes me a wimp, but I am a product of my family. My brothers all did what they wanted, but I thrived on approval. With Tito and my grandmother gone, I know I depend on gaining their approval.
My head starts to pound as I lean back in my chair. I close my eyes trying to will the pain away. I know part of it is that I haven’t eaten. Hopefully, Fritz will bring back some food I can work with.
As if conjured up by my thoughts, my phone buzzes.
Pretty Boy: Do you have any food allergies?
Me: Only to crappy food.
Pretty Boy: *eye roll emoji*
I smile. Okay, maybe it won’t be so bad living here with Fritz. Since he will want food, I am fairly sure he will make sure it’s stocked in the fridge. I look over at the couch. It was my uncle’s and the comfiest of all sofas I have ever had. I put it in here so that when I worked on my menus, a little bit of him was with me. Still…I look back at it. I’m so tired. After a silent debate, I move over to it. I’ll just take a second to rest my eyes. I settle down and McLovin jumps up on it with me. He snuggles up against me. With his warm purrs, I drift off to sleep.
Chapter Six
Fritz
As I make my way through HEB, I think about what I would like to make tonight. One of my favorite things to get is the fajita chicken thighs, but I have no doubt Savannah wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead, I am going to opt for Italian since she said she liked that. After grabbing the mushrooms in produce, I grab a few other things. I know how to cook, yes, but I also like to have fresh fruits and veggies in the house. It keeps me from eating junk which I love. I mean, I haven’t met a deep-fried food I don’t like—except for those deep-fried Twinkies. Just no.
As I’m grabbing butter and then fresh parmesan, I hear someone call out my name. I turn in the direction of the voice and inwardly cringe. Fuck. Gwen. The woman has texted me a few times. Now, don’t get pissy with me. I would have answered her, but her messages were coming hourly all day Sunday. It’s like she thinks we’re a couple after one date. It had been so bad that EJ offered to have a little chat with her. Knowing that EJ’s grandmother’s chats involved firearms and threats, I decided that wouldn’t be a good idea. Now that I see her hurrying over to me precariously on those heels of hers, I might have to rethink EJ’s offer.
“Fritz, I can’t believe I ran into you here.”
She seems really excited to see me, which kind of makes me feel like an ass. I just don’t have the same feelings. As I thought, she’s pretty, but there isn’t much going on between her ears; also, she’s very self-centered. I want to have a conversation that extends beyond hair extensions and nails.
“Gwen, how are you doing?”
“Fine, although I haven’t heard from you.” She pouts. Now, a good pout I like. Like I said, I love all women and all their moods. This pout makes her look ridiculous. Like she doesn’t know it’s a joke—probably because it isn’t. She’s serious. It’s also so…artificial. It’s just like I was thinking the other night. A fake pout can be funny. But this is kind of…just boring.
“Sorry. I got home on Friday night and found out I was being evicted thanks to my grandmother’s cat.”
“Oh,” she says, her face clearing. “Why don’t you just take it to the pound?”
Okay, yeah, my instincts were right. Someone this self-involved would never take on a responsibility like this. And anyone who would treat a pet like that is shallow. Nope, not a bad enough word for her. Asshole. That would be a good name for her.
“Because it’s my Grannie’s cat,” I say. “I need to get finished shopping so I can get back to my new place and unpack.”
“Oh, sure. I could come over and help you.”
“Sorry. My roommate is kind of particular. He wouldn’t really want to deal with people right now.”
“You have a roommate?”
“Didn’t have a choice.”
Okay, yeah, that little white lie might make me an asshole. I am in a lot of ways. But I’m not lying. McLovin is a dick, and he really wouldn’t like a woman who thought I should dump him at the pound.
“Damn. Well, give me a call once you get settled.”
Then she turns and walks away without waiting for a response. Normally, I would watch a woman that fine as she left. She disgusts me on several levels, but she’s hot. Still…I want to get back to cook in that kitchen.
I’m not on a level like Savannah or Ed. Still, my mother made sure we all had cooking skills. I know some of her Irish recipes by heart. I just don’t do much cooking since it is only me and the asshole McLovin.
With that thought, I realize I better get some kitty litter—ugh, this is my life—and get home. Even though McLovin was behaving for Savannah, there’s no telling just how much of an asshole he would be without me there. If I get evicted twice in less than a week, I’d be damned embarrassed.
I hurry through my shopping. It doesn’t take long to check out. It is a Monday afternoon after all. Once I’m back at the house, I step into the foyer, my hands loaded down with bags. “Savannah?”
No answer. I frown and set the bags down in the kitchen. After a glance out back, I notice she isn’t there anymore. I walk down the hall thinking she might be working. I find her in her office, but not at her desk. Instead, she’s curled up on a sofa, McLovin pressed up against her. He blinks up at me and we share a moment. Then he sets his head back down. He has a human again and he seems more content than he’s been in months.
She looks so young laying there. She always seems to be falling asleep or resting when I see her. That’s unless she is at the restaurant. Now, though, she is completely passed out. I hate that I’ve added to her problems. But there is one way I can help. I notice an afghan on the back of the couch. I pull it over her, then head back into the kitchen.
It only takes me a little bit to get the meal going. The pasta I’m making is simple, but I’m also throwing together a salad with a light vinaigrette. Yeah, I can make my own dressings, so maybe don’t judge a book by its sexy cover. And yes, I did just call myself a sexy cover. When you’ve got it, there’s no use in denying it.
I have the garl
ic chopped and ready to go, along with linguine in the pot boiling. I realize just how much I missed cooking. Ever since the asshole moved in with me, I have been running ragged. I have to take him to see Grannie Pam at least two days a week, which makes it difficult to get to the store. Normally, I have to run home to pick him up then go see my grandmother, so it takes up a lot of my day. So, I haven’t cooked at home as much as I like to.
I turn on the burner where I have a skillet resting.
“You’ve been busy.”
My heart jumps out of my chest and I turn to find Savannah standing in the doorway. I had been so deep in my thoughts and activities that I didn’t hear her approach. Three years ago, that could have gotten me killed. I’ve lost a bit of my edge since leaving the Army, and I really don’t care. I’m actually happy for it because that means my life is getting back to normal.
I take in her appearance and realize the dark circles aren’t so prominent anymore. She took her hair down and it lays about her shoulders in a tangle that makes her look like she’s been thoroughly fucked.
Wait, what?
I don’t have thoughts about Savannah that way, but apparently today is the day of weird thoughts. I’ve always thought of her as a friend, one I didn’t know well but one I admired. Work ethic is important to the O'Bryans, since my Grannie Pam is a first-generation immigrant. Savannah works hard, and I know she does it for her family. Another part of her that I admire. Family is huge with my massive family. It adds to the very attractive package of Savannah Martinez.
Oh, no. I can’t think of her as a package or anything like that because it means I’m interested in her and I can’t be that. At all. I have always thought of her like one of my sisters. All of them are attractive. Like EJ and Allison. Both are gorgeous women but firmly in the sister category, just like I thought the last few days. Where Savannah should be. No sex. No attraction. Nothing.
It’s then I realize that she’s staring at me expectantly, and I feel a tickle in the back of my throat. It has to be the situation. I’ll get my head screwed on straight once we get settled in together.
“Yeah, I was going to make some pasta aioli e olio.”
Her eyes light up. “That’s one of my favorites.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “When I was living in San Francisco, I’d work until the middle of the night slash early morning sometimes. It was easy to make and fast. And sooooo good.”
I smile and turn back around to the stove. “Good. I was hoping you liked it since you mentioned you liked pasta.”
She steps closer and there is a rush of…fuck, I have no idea. Why am I feeling like a fifteen-year-old on his first date? It’s weird and it’s leaving me unsettled in the worst way.
To give myself something to do, I grab the olive oil and pour a little in the pan, then throw in the garlic. The timer goes off and Savannah steps forward to help me with the meal.
“Nope. You go…away.”
She gives me a frown. “Away?”
I sigh. “I want to do this for you. As a thank you. Did you want to eat in here or outside?”
Her eyes light up. “Outside would be great.”
I nod as I turn off the heat for the pasta.
“I don’t like doing nothing.”
“You have no problem when Ed is cooking,” I mention as I grab the skillet with the garlic and flip it. I toss in some crushed red pepper.
“It’s different in my kitchen.”
“Okay, there’s the salad to plate and then I’ll grab the bread I’m heating up.”
She smiles at me and I feel like I won some kind of award, but I push it aside and apply myself to finishing the pasta.
We have a fantastic time filled with my delicious meal and lots of laughing. She’s known Harry and Allison since they were kids—one of the reasons Mrs. B knows so much about her—and she knows a lot of stuff about both of them.
“Harry never told me he dated Miss San Antonio,” I say.
She nods as she takes another sip off a wonderful Pinot Grigio from Russo Wineries. “They went out a couple of times until she found out he was going into the Army.”
“Whoa. That sounds…”
“Yeah, she didn’t think it would help her win, so she dumped him.” She shrugs. “He didn’t seem too broken up by it though.”
“You were a year behind Allison, right?”
She nods. “I didn’t graduate though. I got my GED.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
She shrugs. “I knew I was going to culinary school. With Tito pulling some strings, I knew I would get in. I’d already won a few cookoff kind of things here, and Tito made sure to get my name out there.”
Her smile fades and I hate it. I detest that I don’t know enough about her to avoid the bad stuff.
“So, you moved back in here in July?”
She nods. “Yeah. I was sick of dealing with renters; although, I did use a property manager. I couldn’t sell it.”
I know that it has to do with her uncle and nothing to do with the market. This house would be snapped up in a heartbeat.
“I’m kind of hurt you didn’t ask me to help you move.”
“I hired a company. I didn’t have time to deal with it, so I made Austin oversee the movers and make sure it was taken care of.”
“You and Austin are pretty close.”
She smiles. “To a point. I mean, it’s hard being the youngest and the one in charge. Since I came back, we’ve had our ups and downs.”
Then I realize just what that means. She is the baby, the one who should be protected. In the time that I’ve known her, I have yet to see her brothers step up for her. Not that I know much about them, but if she were my sister, I would definitely know her friends. I never see her brothers around at all. All the while, she protects them by doing her job. From what Harry has told me in the past, her entire family has a stake in the business. Without her, they probably wouldn’t be as successful.
I feel that all of us have no idea what is going on with her. Even Allison and EJ seem scared to ask. I want to know to help her. She needs a friend to support her, but I have a feeling she wouldn’t accept it outright. So, instead of talking about that, I point to the area at the back of the yard that looked empty.
“What’s up with that?”
She turns to look in the direction of where I point, then back around. “That’s where Tito used to keep a garden.”
“Oh.”
“I moved in too late last year, but I was thinking of putting some herbs and peppers in this year.”
“That would be nice.”
“I just have to find the time. I could have the yard guys do it.”
“Wait, I don’t even have to do the lawn?”
“First of all, just because you’re the guy doesn’t mean it’s your job, but no. I work too much, so I hired a company to handle it. Remember, I said your rent would help pay for it?”
“Still, I would like to do the garden if you’re okay with it.”
“Sure.”
“Just let me know what you’d like, and I’ll pick them up and get it set up.”
“This is a whole other side to you I didn’t know existed.”
I chuckle. “Well, Grannie Pam always had a little garden and I helped her with it.”
“Aww, you were a mama’s boy.”
“Excuse me, she’s my grandma.”
“Okay. A grandmama’s boy.”
I snort.
“Thanks for dinner, Fritz. It’s been a long time since someone cooked for me. It’s nice.”
I shrug as I feel my stomach turn over. “You’re very welcome. I like to cook. I’m not a chef like you or Ed, but I know a few things.”
“Yeah, but no one cooks for people like me. If they do, it’s so insanely intricate. They worry about impressing me.”
I lean forward with a grin. “That’s why I went with simple.”
Her face flushes, and I realize she is actually blushing. Nor
mally I would tease her, but we are not on a date and she’s my roommate, really my landlady. But damn, she looks cute with the light flush to her skin and her eyes sparkling. How does she not have a ton of men lining up to date her?
“By making your own dressing?”
For a second I say nothing, my head warring with my body. She has no makeup on and, well, she’s wearing old shorts and cute little shirt—and her hair, what a mess. Seriously. But it works on her. She has this whole sexy vibe going on and my body likes it a lot. Like, the hum of arousal threads through my blood and I want to lean forward and slide my fingers over her jaw. I realize she’s waiting for me to answer.
I clear my throat. “That’s easy too. People just have no idea.”
I rise up out of my seat ready to break the atmosphere. Neither of us need to get involved. Our friendship is solid; although, we are still getting to know each other, and jumping in the sack wouldn’t help that situation.
“I got this,” she says.
I shake my head.
“Fritz.”
“I’m off again tomorrow. Guys told me not to come in until Thursday actually so I can get unpacked and settled, so let me.”
“Okay, but from now on, when one of us cooks the other cleans up.”
“Sounds like a plan, landlady.”
I follow her back into the house, watching her toned legs. I don’t know if I ever noticed her legs before. Have I seen her in a dress? Not sure I have. Maybe shorts, but if I did, I don’t remember. I’m sure her job keeps her in good shape. On her feet ten hours a day definitely would keep her legs toned. And her ass.
Jesus, Fritz. Get your head together.
“I’m going to head back to my office to work,” she says. “That is if you are sure about the kitchen.”
I wave her away. “Go. We don’t need your kind in here.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You know…landladies.”
She chuckles. “Call if you need me.”
I watch her walk out of the room with McLovin on her heels. Yep, he has a human he likes now so he will probably smother me in my sleep.
Scrumptious: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Camos and Cupcakes Book 3) Page 5
