Chapter 3
Coco
“So, I’m standing in the kitchen and he starts banging down the door,” I tell Pearl as we sit in Tasty Buns, eating lunch. “And I tried to be friendly. I swear I did! I was smiling and everything.”
“What did he say?” she asks, wide-eyed.
“He yelled at me for setting off the smoke detector and told me it wasn’t a kitchen timer and some other mean stuff. Then he turned and stomped back to his apartment, which is right across the hall, by the way.”
“Oh no!” Pearl groans.
“It was awful.”
“He sounds like a jerk.”
“He is a jerk!”
“You really need to learn how to cook,” she says gently.
I sigh. “Trust me, I know. I’m getting sick of living off frozen pizza and Lunchables.”
“Well, you know there’s a cooking class at Palmer’s Steakhouse every month.”
I look at her in horror. “You want me to embarrass myself in front of a professional chef?”
“I’ll do it with you,” she offers.
“I mean, I guess it can’t hurt to learn the basics,” I mumble.
Pearl nods enthusiastically. “In a safe, supervised setting.”
I pick up my burger and take a big bite as I think it over. “When is it?”
She beams at me. “The first class is soon. I think we can still sign up. Let me check.”
I continue to eat my lunch as she pulls out her phone. I look around Toasty Buns, taking in the happy couples sitting nearby. My mind drifts to the handsome grump across the hall. I frown, immediately trying to squash those thoughts. I’m not interested in the guy. He’s a jerk.
“Done!” Pearl announces. “I’ve signed us up. I’ll send you the class schedule.”
A moment later, my phone pings with a text. “Thanks. How much do I owe you?”
“You can buy lunch.”
“I’ll be buying the next few meals,” I grumble.
She laughs. “That works too.”
We catch up as we finish lunch. These weekly meetings are all the two of us seem to fit into our schedules lately. Pearl is still in the honeymoon phase with Wells, and she spends most of her time with him now.
“I need to get back to work,” Pearl says with an apologetic smile.
“Go ahead. I’ll wait for the check.”
“Are you heading out for a shoot?” she asks as she gathers her things.
“No, not today. I need to go home and work on the photos from yesterday.”
“Well, don’t work too hard.”
I laugh. “I’ll try not to. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Of course. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. See ya.”
She hugs me, then waves as she leaves. Our server stops by a moment later with the check. Once I’ve paid, I gather my things and head out too.
I take the long way home, wanting to clear my head a bit. That’s what I tell myself, but deep down, I know I’m dreading the possibility of running into my new neighbor. I spent five minutes staring out my peephole this morning for any sign of him before I felt confident enough to make a run for it.
I park out front of our building and scan the streets for any sign of him, but it’s quiet.
“You can do this,” I tell myself as I climb out of my car.
I walk toward the stairs, keeping my head down as I dig in my purse for my keys. When I make it to my front door without spotting him, I let out a sigh of relief.
I’m slipping the key into my front door when his opens behind me.
“Oh shit,” I whisper as I hear him step into the hallway.
I frantically twist the key in the lock as he approaches, praying he doesn’t see me or try to talk to me.
Unfortunately for me, he does.
Of course he does. I’m a size twenty-two. Impossible to miss.
“Hey,” he says from right behind me.
I peek over my shoulder at him and offer a weak smile.
He shifts on his feet. “I wanted to apologize for last night. I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday.”
I get the door open and step into my apartment, gripping it like a lifeline. “Okay.”
He clears his throat, staring at me intently. I’m not sure what to do, so I swing the door shut, slamming it in his face. I press my eye to the peephole a second later, watching as he stands there for a moment, staring at my door with a strange look on his face. He almost looks… disappointed?
That can’t be right.
After a moment, he turns and heads downstairs. I watch him until he disappears from view before stepping away from the front door and going to the kitchen.
I wonder where he’s going as I grab a yogurt out of the fridge and sit down to eat.
Why do I care? It’s not like I’m ever going to be friends with the guy… or anything else.
Right?