Chapter 8
Gage
My alarm has me stirring at ten o’clock the next morning like it usually does after a late shift.
It’s tough to shake off the sleepiness after such a restless night, playing out my conversation with Celeste over and over again.
The fact that I proposed last night blares at the forefront of my mind like a giant neon sign.
I peer blearily at my phone to turn it off, but wake the fuck up right quick when I see Celeste sent me a text earlier.
I almost drop my phone in my rush to read it.
Celeste the Mess
Casanova, I think we can pull this off and help each other. Want to talk through it more later? I have a shift today but I’m done just before the dinner rush
My heart starts pounding so furiously that I’m worried a rib will crack.
The images of last night flash through my mind once again, from the dazzling smile I put on her face, to the feel of her against me when we hugged.
I start crafting my response right away, hoping she’ll see it while she’s on her break or something.
I think we can pull it off, too. I’m off today, what would you think of coming to my house for dinner after your shift? I’ll cook. You can see where you would live, it might help or hurt your decision, depending on what you think of it
I get started on my morning routine with breakfast for the birds and myself so that I’m not fixated on my phone looking for a response. Hermes starts stirring and fluttering in his cage as soon as he hears my feet hit the stairs like he always does. Daisy gives a couple of sleepy chirps.
“Breakfast time,” Hermes declares.
“That’s right, Hermes, it’s breakfast time. Are you hungry?”
“Want a pistache,” he tells me in that lovable croak of his.
“No, you get breakfast first. Then you can earn a pistachio later if you tell me five things, ok?”
“Trick for snack.”
“Later, Hermes, it’s breakfast time, ok?”
This is what happens when my parrot is as smart as a three year old.
I open up both of their cages and they come right to me.
Hermes is in his favorite spot on my shoulder while Daisy burrows into my hair while I putter around the kitchen.
Once I have their breakfasts ready, they devour it in their designated spot, then come back to sit on me and hang out with me while I eat some cereal.
Hermes keeps up a pretty steady stream of words he likes to say and commentary on what I’m doing.
“Dirty dishes,” he says with his whole chest while I wash up breakfast. It usually only takes me repeating something three or four times for him to identify it correctly and say it.
Both he and Daisy play with some of their favorite toys and have fun flying around a little.
I start to stress clean just in case Celeste says yes to coming over, with Hermes helpfully letting me know it’s paper towel in my hand when I rip off a piece to wipe the counters.
“There might be a beautiful woman called Celeste coming over later, Hermes,” I tell him.
His face is shrewd, I can see the wheels turning as he processes these new words.
He’s never learned words in one try, so I don’t think he’ll repeat it.
It’s just good to talk to a living being who talks back when I’m alone here with my thoughts.
It’s around lunchtime when I hear back from her.
Celeste the Mess
That’s not a bad idea. Can I bring anything? Just shoot me your address and what a good time would be.
Don’t worry about bringing anything but yourself. Do you have any dietary restrictions or allergies? Would 7 be ok?
That works. I’m allergic to shellfish but everything else is fair game. I’m not picky
I’m on it. Prepare to be amazed by my cooking prowess
I’ll be on pins and needles with anticipation all day
I snort at her sarcasm, then remember something important.
Wait, do you mind birds? I have a parrot and a sun conure. They’re well trained and well behaved but they can get noisy
I don’t mind them at all. Pets are better than most people
So true
See you at 7 Chef Casanova
See you then
I send a chef emoji along with my address at the end, then sit down to think about what I’m going to cook for her.
Chicken and rice is always safe, and it’s something I can make in my sleep.
I already have the rice, chicken stock, peas, and spices for the rice, so I just need to run out to get the chicken.
First, it’s time to finish the stress cleaning.
I vacuum, make sure the aviaries are clean and don’t smell, fluff out the pillows on the couch, basically anything to keep my hands and brain busy.
There is nothing more behind her coming over than two friends discussing a mutually beneficial arrangement, I tell myself repeatedly.
That’s why my blood feels like lava right now. Sure.
Sweeping my gaze over the open concept first floor, I try to see it through her eyes.
It’s a little sparse, and a little cold.
If she does decide to move in, I wonder how much she’ll put her stamp on the place.
She’s welcome to do anything she wants to the house to make herself feel comfortable and welcome, and I’ll let her know that.
I know she hasn’t felt that comfortable rooming with Tania and Carlo, as much as she loves them, and that needs to change.
After a quick trip to the store for the chicken and ingredients for salad, along with a couple of other errands, I start prepping.
I marinate the chicken thighs and let them sit to develop flavor before I pan sear them.
Jersey tomatoes this time of year are absolutely out of this world, so I chop a few of them before tossing them with the washed greens and sliced cucumber for the salad.
We can both add the simple vinaigrette I make at the table when we’re ready to eat.
With that done, all I can do is wait to start cooking closer to when Celeste gets here.
I text with Diana to check how the bar is today, and she says it’s all fine.
Hermes and Daisy hang out with me while I putter around, making sure everything looks perfect.
A sweaty run helps me get rid of some of the excess adrenaline coursing through me before I finally shower and get ready.
I choose a forest green button down to go with my jeans, adding my favorite silver chain around my neck, as well as the expensive silver and black watch that my dad got me for graduation.
The smell of lime, cilantro, and smokey seasoning permeates the kitchen as I pan sear the chicken thighs, letting them get crisp and brown on the outside before removing them.
Then I lightly toast the rice with butter, the peas, and garlic in the same pot before seasoning it and adding the broth.
Finally, I nestle the chicken into the flavorful rice mixture so that it all cooks together to develop a ton of flavor.
Once it’s covered and simmering on low, I clean up as much as I can until I hear the doorbell.
“It’s the door,” Hermes says from his aviary. I put both him and Daisy back a little while ago so that they wouldn’t fly right at Celeste and possibly startle her when she comes in.
“Yes, Celeste is here, Hermes,” I inform him as I move to go let her in.
When I open the door, I lose my breath. Celeste is standing there in the gorgeous green sundress she had on the night we met all those weeks ago, when we all celebrated her release from prison.
The very same dress that made me almost fall all over myself when I first saw her.
Ironically enough, it’s also almost the exact same shade of green as the shirt I’m wearing.
She notices right away, and her lips curve up.
“Aw, we match,” she says, tipping her head to the side to take me in fully with an amused sparkle in her eyes.
“Ugh, we’re already THAT couple,” I tell her with a wink.
“Celeste is here,” Hermes says from the living room. The woman in question goes still.
“Is someone here? I thought I was crazy when I heard you having a conversation with someone while you were coming to answer the door,” she says, clearly a little wary.
Actually, not just wary, she looks like she’s ready to bolt at the sound of an unfamiliar deep and croaky voice, so I rush to reassure her.
“That’s Hermes, my parrot that I mentioned. Apparently he’s picked up on your name quickly, he’s a chatty one.” She lets out a breath and relaxes a little.
“Seriously? You said your birds were noisy, not that they could actually talk! You had me freaked out for a minute that I walked into an attack or something.” She lightly smacks my shoulder in admonishment.
Shit. My bird freaking her out is not how I wanted our evening to start.
I reach out and pull her into a hug of both greeting and apology, and after a second she melts into it.
“Sorry about that, I should have mentioned how verbal he is. I’m so used to it that I take it for granted.
My other bird Daisy is much quieter and doesn’t talk the way he does.
Do you want to meet them real quick? Dinner should be ready in a few minutes.
” I rub a soothing hand down her back before we pull away from each other.
She looks a little calmer now as I search her face.
Hermes lets out an impatient whistle that sounds much more birdlike, which breaks the tension and makes her chuckle.
“Ok. Whatever you’re cooking smells great,” she says as I lead her into the living room with my hand on the small of her back.
“I’ve got chicken and rice simmering on the stove, plus salad with homemade vinaigrette,” I tell her, and her eyes light up with both delight and surprise.
“That sounds amazing. You like to cook, huh?”