To The Rude Guy in Apartment Five - J. S. Cooper Page 0,47
was nice meeting you.” I smiled and waved at them as they left the store. As they left, I grabbed my phone and the note Jagger had left me with his number and called before I could lose my nerve.
“Jagger Scott.” He answered the phone after two rings and a smile spread on my face as I heard his deep voice.
“Hey, Jagger.”
“Who is this?” His voice was smooth, and I debated pretending to be someone else.
“I think you know,” I said softly.
“Magnolia?” His tone changed and he sounded happy.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I’d know your voice anywhere.” He chuckled. “What’s up? I'm surprised to hear from you.”
“Would you like to cook me dinner tonight?” I said quickly before I could change my mind.
“Would I like to cook you dinner?” He sounded surprised. “Of course, any day, any night.”
“Okay. I’ll come over at seven.”
“Okay,” he agreed immediately.
“I’ll also be asking you some questions related to finance,” I added. “I need to pick your brain.”
“That’s better than picking my nose.”
“Jagger!” I groaned. “Really?”
“What? Do you want to pick my nose as well?”
“I’m going now. I’ll see you later,” I said, and he laughed as I hung up.
I grabbed my notebook and stood up. I needed to go home and figure out what I was going to wear and exactly what questions I wanted to ask Jagger.
Chapter Twelve
“Welcome to Chez Scott,” Jagger welcomed me into his apartment with a sweet smile. He was wearing a black shirt and an apron that said “Kiss the Chef.”
“Thanks.” I stepped into his apartment. “Wow, it smells amazing. What’s for dinner?”
“I have two ribeyes, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. And for dessert, I have a cheesecake.”
“You made a cheesecake?”
“No,” he admitted with a guilty smile. “I got it delivered.”
“Okay,” I laughed. “Here’s a bottle of red wine. I figured we could have it with dinner.”
“Sounds good to me.” He took the bottle with a smile. “Would you like a glass now?”
“Sure, why not?”
I followed him into the kitchen where he grabbed two wine glasses and a bottle opener and proceeded to open the bottle. He poured some into one of the glasses and handed it to me. I waited for him to pour his own glass and then we clinked our glasses together and drank.
“Nice choice.” He nodded appreciatively. “Cabernet?”
“No, it’s a shiraz.”
“Interesting. I like it.” He put his glass down and then walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “It’s time for me to fry the steaks. The potatoes are already ready.”
“Do you need any help?”
“No.” He shook his handsome head and nodded towards the table. “Have a seat and relax. And feel free to ask me the questions you had.”
“You want me to ask you now?” I asked. I was surprised that he hadn’t said anything about this morning or anything else about the past yet. I’d thought it would be the first thing he would bring up. I pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, placing my glass on a bright ceramic coaster.
“No time like the present, right?” He looked over at me. “I’m curious to see how I can help.”
“Well, you know I started this new job, and I know next to nothing about finance.” I took another sip of the wine. “And I need to make sure that I do a good job.” I decided not to tell him that I was worried I might be fired.
“Well, you know me.” He turned on a burner and placed a frying pan on the flame. “I’m always willing to help.”
“So, tomorrow Jane and I are going to the Mission, and we’re going to interview people in the street. Well, I’m going to interview them, and she’s going to video me.” I watched as he rolled up his sleeves and began slicing an onion and then continued. “I want to do a multimedia post. I want people to send people the videos on Instagram, I wanted them to forward the article via email, and I want them posting it all over Facebook. I want the article—and the app—to go viral.” I sighed. “But I’m not quite sure how.”
“So tell me your ideas.” He looked over at me for a second and then turned back to concentrate on cooking. I watched as he dropped the onions into the frying pan, the oil sizzling and steam floating up in the air. He grabbed a spatula and flipped the onions before adding both steaks to the pan. The smell of frying meat filled