Chapter 11
The table was a war zone of flour smudges, spilled sauces, and abandoned kitchen utensils, evidence of their earlier attempts at culinary greatness—or at least competence. Despite the chaos surrounding them, James and Evie sat at the table, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world.
But the pièce de résistance wasn’t the Korean noodles they’d set out to make. Instead, perched neatly on their plates were McDonald’s burgers and fries, fresh out of the takeout bags Evie had ordered.
James leaned back in his chair, holding a fry precariously between a pair of metal chopsticks.
“So, this is what authenticity looks like?” he asked, his lips twitching as he tried to hold back a grin.
Evie giggled, struggling with her own chopsticks as she attempted to pick up a crinkle-cut fry.
“Hey, you wanted a Korean dining experience. This is about as close as we’re getting tonight.”
James shook his head, his laugh warm and genuine.
“I don’t know whether to applaud your creativity or question your sanity.”
“Both,” she said confidently, finally managing to lift a fry to her mouth. “I mean, look at us. Who else could turn a McDonald’s meal into a fine dining experience?”
He chuckled, carefully tearing a piece of his burger with the chopsticks and managing to get it to his mouth without dropping it.
“You know; I think this might actually be harder than cooking.”
Evie snorted, nearly dropping her chopsticks as she laughed.
“Speak for yourself. I’m a pro at this.”
“Oh, really?” James challenged, raising a brow. “Show me.”
Evie grinned, picking up a fry with exaggerated precision using her chopsticks and popping it into her mouth like a seasoned expert.
“Ta-da,” she said, her voice muffled by the fry.
James smirked, shaking his head as he leaned forward, propping his elbow on the table. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” she teased, flashing him a playful smile.
He paused, his smirk faltering for just a second, replaced by something softer, something unspoken.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice dipping low enough to make her pause. “Maybe I do.”
Evie blinked, her heart skipping a beat as she looked at him. The teasing atmosphere between them shifted slightly, the weight of his words settling over the table like a warm, gentle breeze.
But before the moment could stretch too long, James cleared his throat, breaking the spell. He picked up another fry, expertly maneuvering it with the chopsticks.
“Anyway,” he said, his tone light again, “we should probably consider this a defeat. Cooking’s not for us.”
Evie laughed, grateful for the return of their easy banter.
“Speak for yourself,” she said, gesturing to the mess around them. “I think we’re kitchen prodigies. Gordon Ramsay would be so proud.”
James raised his fry in a mock toast. “To us: culinary disasters and chopstick champions.”
Evie clinked her chopsticks against his fry, her laughter ringing out as they settled back into the moment, surrounded by the chaos they’d created and the easy, unexpected joy of the night.
James leaned back in his chair, his chopsticks still clumsily holding a fry as he regarded her with a small smirk.
“So… tell me something about yourself,” he said casually, his tone light but curious.
Evie arched a brow, pausing mid-bite. “What, like an icebreaker question?” she teased, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms.
He shrugged, still smirking. “You wanted this to feel like a real date,” he reminded her. “So, tell me something crazy.”
“Something crazy?” she echoed, tilting her head as she studied him. “What makes you think I have something crazy to tell?”
James’s smirk widened, his gaze warm but challenging. “I just questioned your sanity ten minutes ago,” he pointed out. “Call it an educated guess.”
Evie laughed, shaking her head as she reached for another fry with her chopsticks.
“Alright, fine. You want crazy?” She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, her lips twitching as she thought of what to share.
“When I was a kid,” she began, leaning forward slightly, “I decided I was going to be a professional stunt woman. I thought it was the coolest job in the world.”
James raised a brow, clearly intrigued. “A stuntwoman? I didn’t see that coming.”
“Yeah,” Evie said, laughing at herself. “I spent an entire summer jumping off the roof of my mom’s garden shed into a pile of old blankets I dragged outside. I even tried to ride my bike down the stairs once. Spoiler alert—it didn’t go well.”
James winced, though he couldn’t hide his amusement. “I feel like there’s a trip to the ER somewhere in this story.”
“Multiple,” she admitted, grinning. “After I broke my wrist, my mom banned me from anything remotely ‘stunt-related.’ But for a solid three months, I was convinced I was the next big action hero.”
James shook his head, chuckling. “That’s actually impressive. Crazy, but impressive.”
“What about you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes playfully. “If we’re swapping stories, you owe me one now.”
James leaned back, pretending to think deeply.
“Alright, let’s see…” he mused. After a moment, he said, “When I was in college, I signed up for an open mic night on a dare. I thought I’d just read some dumb poem I found online and call it a day.
Instead, I decided at the last second to try stand-up comedy. ”
Evie gasped, her eyes widening with delight. “No way. You did stand-up comedy?”
James nodded, wincing at the memory. “Yeah. I completely bombed. I don’t think anyone laughed once except maybe out of pity.”
Evie burst into laughter, leaning forward on the table as tears pricked her eyes.
“Oh my God, that’s amazing. I wish I could’ve seen that.”
“I don’t,” James said dryly, though his smile betrayed him. “I think I traumatized myself into never stepping near a stage again.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” Evie said, still grinning. “I'll stick to my romantic roles and you to your business. No stunts, no stand-up. I guess we’re both retired thrill-seekers.”
“Looks like it,” he agreed, raising his chopsticks in a mock toast.
Laughing as they returned to their makeshift meal, the playful energy between them was easy and unforced. For the first time, the line between acting and reality felt blurred in the best way possible.
Evie giggled, covering her mouth as she chewed another bite of her burger.
“Okay, okay—your turn again. Another one!”
James laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair.
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Obviously,” she said, grinning. “I need more material to blackmail you with later.”
He rolled his eyes, smirking as he set down his chopsticks. “Fine. But don’t laugh too hard at this one.” He paused, pretending to think before leaning forward conspiratorially. “In high school, I was part of an underground card-playing club. You know, poker, blackjack—stuff like that.”
Evie blinked, startled. “Wait, what? You were, like, a poker prodigy or something?”
“Not even close,” he admitted, chuckling. “I lost almost every game. But I thought it made me look cool. Spoiler: it didn’t.”
Evie burst out laughing, shaking her head. “James, that’s not crazy—that’s just sad. Please tell me you had, like, a nickname or something dramatic to go with it.”
He groaned, covering his face with one hand. “They called me ‘All-In.’ Because I’d bet everything at the worst possible times.”
Evie doubled over with laughter, her cheeks flushed from laughing so hard.
“Oh my God, ‘All-In.’ That’s incredible. I’m never letting you live that down.”
“Yeah, well, at least I wasn’t jumping off roofs into old blankets,” he shot back, grinning.
“Fair point,” she said, wiping her eyes as she caught her breath. “Okay, I’ve got one more for you.”
“I’m all ears,” James said, resting his chin on his hand as he watched her.
“When I was about eight,” Evie began, leaning forward with a mischievous smile, “I decided I was going to train our neighbor’s cat to do tricks. Like, sit, roll over, fetch—like it was a dog.”
James raised an eyebrow, already stifling a laugh. “And how’d that work out?”
“It didn’t,” she admitted, laughing. “The cat hated me. Scratched me every time I tried. But I refused to give up for weeks. My mom finally had to explain that cats don’t care about being trained.”
James shook his head, laughing softly. “I can actually picture you, determined as hell, trying to teach a cat to fetch. That’s... weirdly adorable.”
“Hey, at least I wasn’t losing money on poker games,” she teased, earning a mock glare from him.
The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, stretching through dinner and the makeshift dessert Evie had grabbed—a pack of pre-made pastries from the store. By the time they packed up and headed home, the air in the car was filled with easy laughter and lingering warmth.
“Okay, but seriously,” James said as they pulled into the driveway, the smile still on his face. “What would you have done if that cat actually learned to fetch?”
“You’re still stuck on the cat?” Evie chuckled.
He nodded with a boyish smirk.
“Obviously, I’d have become a famous cat trainer,” Evie replied, grinning as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “You’d have seen me on TV by now.”
James chuckled, shaking his head as they stepped out of the car and walked toward the house.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but part of me wishes that had happened.”
Evie laughed, nudging him playfully as they reached the front door. “See? You admit it. My crazy ideas are the best.”
“Sure,” he said, unlocking the door with a grin. “As long as you never try to train me to fetch.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she shot back, her laughter echoing through the quiet house as they stepped inside.
As they stepped inside, the quiet house wrapped around them, a soft contrast to the laughter and lightness of the evening. James shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of the couch, while Evie stood near the hallway, fiddling with the strap of her purse.
“Well,” she said, her voice soft but cheerful, “I guess this is where we call it a night.”