Chapter 10
DANNY
I am incredibly, unbelievably, stupidly nervous as I knock on Holly’s door. I have a large container with a just-cooked batch of beef stroganoff in one hand and a shopping bag full of pancake things in the other.
I’m not nervous about cooking. It’s who’s on the other side of this door that’s knotting me up. Who I’m cooking for. Because I’m totally hoping to win over Holly’s friends.
Meeting the friends is a big deal. For me.
Because I know it’s a big deal for her. I’m an easy-going guy and I get along with everyone – seriously, grandmothers love me – but I know Holly’s finding it hard to reconcile our two lifestyles.
Especially after her impromptu visit to the bar a couple of nights ago.
I hadn’t expected her to just turn up, but I’m glad she did.
She was clearly a little freaked out by a bunch of women calling my name, but she didn’t run away.
On the contrary, she’d moved towards me with purpose and determination.
And maybe the alley was just a new and liberating experience for her, but it felt more like she was marking me, which was – not going to lie – a real turn on.
Better than that, the band had loved her. Because she’d greeted them like a non-groupie, like they were just normal human beings instead of members of a rock band. Also, they could see how smitten I am.
I don’t need their approval but it’s nice to have it anyway. And today it’s my turn to be put under the microscope and I want the same stamp of approval from her friends.
The door swings open, and it’s her. Holly. She’s wearing jeans and another long-sleeved Henley with another row of buttons that stretches nicely across her boobs. ‘Hey,’ she says cheerfully, but I can tell by the dart of her eyes that she’s a little nervous too.
I want to kiss her mouth but she’s giving off serious do not invade my body space vibes as she glances over her shoulder briefly and says, ‘Come in.’
It’s on the tip of my tongue to whisper I’m going to rip that shirt open, too as I pass but I don’t because it might throw her off balance and too much is weighing on how this all goes.
If her friends don’t see us as couple potential then that could be the death knell for whatever fledgling thing we have going on.
Not that I think Holly can’t make up her own mind, but I am outside her comfort zone. I am unfamiliar territory. So, of course, she’s going to be looking to those she trusts for advice. For, do-you-think-I’m-crazy? opinions.
I’ve been with enough women to know they put a lot of stock in what their friends think, and I want Holly’s friends to like me.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ I announce as I stride into the living area, smiling at Holly’s guests. ‘I bought enough food to feed an army.’
Placing my cargo on the kitchen counter, I turn to face the two women sitting at the table which is strewn with even more studying debris than the last time I cooked in Holly’s kitchen. A black woman with an amazing Afro who is eyeing me speculatively, and a serious-looking redhead with freckles.
Holly is hovering between them like she’s temporarily forgotten their names, so I don’t wait for introductions. ‘Hi,’ I say, striding to the first woman and offering my hand. ‘I’m Danny.’
She shakes my hand. ‘Denise.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ I say before offering my hand to the redhead, who says, ‘Lucy,’ as she shakes my hand.
‘Nice to meet you, too,’ I say.
Denise tips her chin at the counter. ‘What you got there?’
‘Beef stroganoff. I cooked it an hour ago.’
Cocking an eyebrow at Holly, she says, ‘A man who can cook is a good start.’
Hell yes. I am the best start, Denise.
‘I’ll just pop on some rice and it’ll be in your bellies lickety-split.’ I know Holly has a rice cooker because I saw it the last time I used the kitchen. And I bought a bag of rice.
I turn back to the kitchen to get started when Lucy says, ‘Holly told us we were getting pancakes.’
‘You’re getting both,’ I say as I grab the rice cooker out of the cupboard. ‘You need protein as well as carbs while you’re studying and I’ll mix the batter while the rice cooks.’
I notice the two women exchanging glances in my peripheral vision as Holly says, ‘Let me give you a hand.’
Smiling at her, I shake my head. ‘No way. Sit. You guys do your thing. Pretend I’m not here.’
Denise laughs. ‘You’re a man in Holly’s kitchen. That’s not going to happen.’
Lucy nods in obvious agreement. ‘You are the proverbial elephant in the room.’
‘Well in that case,’ I say, winking at Holly as she sits, ‘feel free to talk about me.’
‘Oh, we intend to,’ Denise claps back.
‘Okay, you two,’ Holly says good-naturedly, ‘back off, let the man work.’
‘Hey,’ I tease. ‘I can multitask.’ They laugh as I pour the rice into the cooker. ‘So… are you two also in the ER or…’
‘I am,’ Lucy says. ‘Denise is in the surgical residency programme.’
We chat then as the rice cooks and I prepare the pancake batter.
About their jobs and where they’re from and what their future plans are.
They’re ambitious and I admire their drive, which reminds me so much of Holly.
She doesn’t say much, she just sits and listens, but there’s this soft smile on her mouth like she’s enjoying how well I’m getting on with her friends, and I feel like I’m passing a test with flying colours.
When the rice is done I serve a small amount of stroganoff in ceramic bowls.
I don’t want to fill them up because the main event is really the pancakes.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I make the best pancakes in the entire state and if I haven’t won these women over before pancake time, I certainly will after that.
I’ve not met a woman yet who didn’t whimper a little when they took their first ever bite and I don’t want these women to be any different. I want them to tell everyone at the hospital about Holly’s boyfriend’s pancakes.
Because that’s what I want to be – Holly’s boyfriend. Holly’s plus one. Holly’s significant other. Holly’s ride-or-die.
I want to be Holly’s guy.
Sitting here with her friends, laughing and joking and basking in Holly’s approval, makes me want it more than I did before I entered the apartment. There is a lot riding on this batch of pancakes.
‘So,’ Denise says as she blows on a piping-hot spoonful of stroganoff, ‘Holly tells us you’re in a band.’
I glance up from beating the eggs, meeting Holly’s gaze.
I wasn’t sure what she’d told them about me, but she’s obviously shared some info, which is pleasing.
The fact she’s told them the truth, not tried to obfuscate or embellish, makes me inordinately happy.
I guess a part of me feels like I might be a little too low-rent for her and her doctor friends.
Or rather that Holly feels I’m a little too low-rent.
Okay for a little grungy alley sex but not relationship material.
Neither Denise nor Lucy are peering down their noses at me however, and Holly is looking pretty damn pleased with herself. Like her friends’ approval has slotted another piece of the Danny conundrum into place.
‘That’s right,’ I say. ‘I’m a drummer.’
They ask me about the band and I answer the usual questions, the small smile playing on Holly’s mouth stoking my confidence. I am clearly saying and doing all the right things, charming her friends, and her satisfaction is giddying.
‘You got groupies?’ Lucy asks as she pushes her finished bowl aside. ‘You gotta have groupies.’
‘No,’ I say.
Holly laughs and bugs her eyes at me. ‘Yes.’
My breath catches at the way her eyes dance all happy and flirty like she’s not bothered about the women who hang around our gigs because she had marked me in that alley. I smile back. ‘Not any more.’
‘Ohh.’ Denise nods approving at Holly. ‘Good answer.’
Holly grins and my breath catches again. She’s very different now to the woman who answered the door. That Holly had been worried about how this would unfold. But this Holly is suddenly confident, and hell if that isn’t heady AF.
‘And that’s your plan?’ Lucy says. ‘For the rest of your life? Playing in a band?’
I want to say something flippant like it’s working for Springsteen because I don’t think Lucy is being bitchy or judgemental. It seems like a genuinely curious question. But the answer suddenly isn’t cut and dried. The truth is I’ve never thought too far ahead.
But maybe it’s time I did?
I take a moment to collect my thoughts as I pour the first lot of batter onto the hot skillet. ‘A little while ago if you’d asked me that I’d have said sure.’ I glance at Holly, who is watching me intently. ‘But now I don’t know.’
The truth is being in Holly’s orbit has made me reassess my life. She’s so driven and goal orientated, which has really shone a spotlight on how aimless my life has been. I don’t think that’s a bad thing necessarily, I just don’t know if it’s enough for me any more.
‘I’m the kind of guy who takes it one day at a time and I’m lucky that I can earn enough money from doing something that I love to allow me to keep doing it.
’ I turn my attention to the skillet, idly poking the edges of a pancake.
‘But recently I’ve been thinking about the future and maybe trying new things. ’
‘Like what?’
I look up at Holly’s quick question. I can not only see but feel how invested she is in the answer. Would she prefer me to do something different?
‘I don’t know. Maybe something that allows me to keep more regular hours.’ Not that I think band hours would worry a shift worker. ‘And be more protective of my hearing.’
Now I’m being flippant and everyone laughs, but the truth is, hearing loss is a very real occupational hazard in my line of work.
‘And maybe,’ I add, ‘something that has a little more… meaning.’
I think that’s what impresses me the most about Holly’s job – it means something. That night she told me about the old guy who had died, I knew deep in my bones that she had made a real difference to someone. And that was inspiring.