to have a great time during the game, but not so much at the end. I still feel awful about last night. I pushed the issues with her dad too hard when I should have just stayed the fuck out of it. “No problem. And no, you get one week of meals from me, and then you’re on your own. Next bet, you’ll be cooking for me.” I wink at her, and her face immediately changes color.
She snorts and steps around to join me at the sink. “That definitely won’t be happening, but I do know my way around a dishwasher.”
I grin and move away. “Look at that. Maybe we’re the dream team after all.” I don’t have to glance at her to know her squinty eyes are currently throwing darts at the side of my head. “I’m going to go grab the grocery lists, and then we can head out.” I snap my fingers as I remember something. “That’s something you’ll start doing too. Every night, you’ll pull the next day’s recipes and make a grocery list for us to shop in the morning.”
“Okay.” She slips our breakfast plates into the dishwasher and catches me smile. “What?”
I shrug. “I didn’t even have to ask you to rinse those before you stuck them in the dishwasher.”
She laughs, and I can tell I’ve triggered something. “My mom would have murdered me if she caught me sticking dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
“You’d be surprised how many people do it.”
When she’s done, she grabs her purse, and I grab the cart. We start down the short slope and head around the corner to the market. I can’t help but notice the way her eyes grow wide when she sees the main entrance to Pike Place.
“I thought we were going to a grocery store.”
“Nope. Why go to the store when you can walk one block to the best farmers market in the Pacific Northwest?”
We start down the main road, walking slowly as she gazes around. “This place is like a street market on crack.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Welcome to the farm-to-table life, Maggie. Everything is fresh and local. As in, I know exactly where everything is coming from. And whatever I can’t buy fresh, like the condiments, we make in the kitchen.
For the first time since I’ve known Maggie, she looks deeply awed by the way I run my kitchen. My chest puffs with pleasure, knowing I just accomplished something monumental.
“Want to pick out some fresh flowers while I start down the produce aisle?”
She nods emphatically, and I feel like I’m two for two. Maybe working with Maggie won’t be so bad after all.
“What’s on today’s menu?” she asks as she returns with a handful of flowers and rests them in the cart.
“Besides a private party I’m delivering food for, I want to try out a new recipe: meatloaf with a side of mac and cheese, fresh salad, and green beans.” I peek at her to see if she has any aversions to any of the mentioned foods, but she doesn’t give anything away.
“Simple enough.”
I chuckle. “You should know by now, nothing in my kitchen is as simple as it sounds.”
A smile teeters on her lips. “Guess you’re right, but how hard can making meatloaf really be? It’s just a slab of meat, some onions, ketchup—what else?”
“Oh, Maggie. You just earned yourself a cooking lesson when we get back to the kitchen.”
She moans and throws me a look that tells me I’m trying to do her dirty. “Really? I thought I had all this training to do.”
“Consider this part of your training. I still need to test this recipe, so you’ll be my sample student.”
“I don’t suppose a certificate comes with that?”
I snort. “Not a chance.”
We finish our first shopping experience together and manage to make it back to the kitchen without sharpening our claws. In fact, this may be the longest we’ve been around each other without getting into some kind of fight.
She helps me unload the cart, and then we immediately start on today’s recipe. I guide Maggie like I would in a normal class. I don’t want to tell her that this actually isn’t part of the job. Gretta never helped me cook and test my new recipes. The only time she would sample anything I made was when she would steal food from the refrigerator during her lunch hours.
“Sun-dried tomatoes and basil? Really?” she asks when I hand her the jar of tomatoes I dried yesterday. “That’s