“And now, I have this opportunity to fix things, to start again. It’s exhilarating . . . and terrifying.”
“Because you’re afraid he’ll disappear again, that he’ll shut you out.”
Elle chugged the rest of her martini. “Yeah, I guess. I can’t lose him again, Whit. A part of me died the day I lost him. If another part of me goes, I don’t know where I’ll be. I really don’t.”
“You can’t be with him just because you’re afraid.”
“That’s not all, there’s still something there. When I’m near him, my heart skips a beat, my stomach flutters.”
“Forgive my honesty, Ellie, but I’m not sure he deserves you. I’ll support whatever you choose, you know that. But your happiness . . . and I mean actual, honest-to-goodness happiness: the loving-life, batshit-crazy-in-love kinda happiness—that’s what I want for you. And I’m not sure that exists with him . . . or if it ever did.”
“Stop. Please, just . . . I can’t.” Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes and she felt herself building a wall between herself and Whitney. She didn’t want to hear it—any of it. “You don’t know him. You only know my pain.”
“That’s true. I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”
“Thank you,” Elle whispered, wiping her eyes with her cloth napkin. “Listen, I’ll take care of the check, but I should get home. Big day tomorrow.”
“Ellie, honey, don’t go.”
Elle stood, placed her purse on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I have to. Should I call you a cab?”
“No.” Whitney leaned back in the booth. “I’ll be fine.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yep.” Whitney wouldn’t make eye contact, but Elle was fine with that. She couldn’t handle Whitney’s skepticism regarding Troy and she needed the solitude of her home to calm her down. Maybe the morning would bring clarity, but until then, she needed to be alone and far away from Whitney’s judgment.
I can’t believe you know how to do this,” Elle remarked, leaning against the granite countertop of Luke’s new kitchen. She sipped from her glass of white wine as the Rolling Stones played quietly from Luke’s iPod.
“You’ve never made your own sushi before?”
Elle shook her head. “I’ve always left it to the professionals. But you’re looking pretty skilled there.”
Luke smiled and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before returning his hands to the bamboo mat. “I had this part in a pilot, they taught us there.”
“What was the role?”
“The whole show was set in a sushi bar. I played this buffoon whose dream was to be a sushi chef. I know it’s shocking the show didn’t get picked up, huh?” Luke shook his head with a laugh as he scooped a ball of rice with his hands, placing it in the center of the nori square. “Wanna try?”
“I don’t know. You seem to be doing a great job and—”
“C’mon, I’ll teach you. We’ll do it together.”
Elle lifted an eyebrow, placed her glass on the counter, and nestled herself between him and the kitchen island. Luke encircled her with his arms, his chin resting on her shoulder as he guided her hands.
“First, we have to press the rice down so it covers the nori.” Together, they pressed the rice into the thin square of seaweed. Luke hummed into her ear as they worked. Elle couldn’t make out the song, but the contented tone of the melody made her smile with satisfaction.
“Next, we need our fish. I already cut the salmon into strips. So take one of the strips and lay it horizontally.”
She placed a long piece of fish atop the rice. “Like this?”
“Yep, you’re a natural. Now add some cucumber strips, only two or three.”
“Got it.” Elle placed the vegetables next to the salmon. “Can we roll it now?”
“Okay, we’re gonna use the closer edge of the rolling mat. We have to close on the filling with the nori making a rectangular-shaped hill, then we tighten it from above.”
Luke’s already deep voice dropped an octave as he instructed Elle on how to construct the sushi. “Keep it tight, with every move.”
Elle giggled, removing her hand from the sushi and placing it against her mouth.
“What’s so funny?” Luke kept his grip on the partially rolled sushi, but tilted his head to peer into Elle’s eyes.
“Sorry, it just . . . it was starting to sound a little naughty.”
“Elle Riley has a dirty mind, huh? I can certainly use that to my advantage.”
“I’m sure you can. Seriously, though, you have this effect on me