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Defining Moments

Page 11

by Andee Michelle


  “Great. I look forward to learning a lot from you,” I stress.

  “And I you. Have a good evening, Ellie,” he purrs.

  I swear the man’s voice, when he drops it that low while giving me those eyes, makes my heart beat a million miles a minute. He’s sex personified. Every single thing about him is sexy and it absolutely floors me that this man is single. I know he has been torn up about his wife’s death, but it’s been years since she passed. Angelica and Sami both make it sound like he has not dated at all since his wife died, and if my calculations are correct from the story the twins told me, Maloree has been gone at least ten years. Who doesn’t date for more than ten years?

  THE DOORBELL RINGS as I’m rolling out the dough for the potpies.

  “Come in,” I holler, turning my head toward the door.

  “Girl, you can’t just tell people to come in. You’re in a new place. What if you had a psycho neighbor and you just invited him in?” Claire yells at me as she comes in, a huge bouquet of flowers on one arm and a wine tote in the other.

  I shake my head and turn back toward the dough. “For your information, I know my neighbor, and he’s not a psycho,” I tell her with a laugh. “He is, however, one of the most gorgeous men you’ll ever see in your lifetime.”

  Thud.

  Giggle.

  I turn to see what she dropped and am met with green eyes. There, just inside my doorway, stands Cord, with a sexy smirk on his face.

  “Cord,” I choke out. “What’s up?” I notice Claire’s eyes bug out and, for the first time in as long as I can remember, she actually looks speechless.

  His knowing smile makes my heart drop into my toes. Yeah, he heard me. “Just helping your friend here bring her bag up since her hands were full.”

  “Damn, Ellie. This is the hot neighbor you had dinner with the last two nights?” Claire blurts out.

  Cord chuckles softly, setting her bag down on the chair nearest the door.

  I shake my head and close my eyes, hoping the floor will swallow me up. I swear she has no damn filter.

  “Thanks for helping big mouth over here with her stuff. You didn’t have to do that, and now I’m guessing you wish you hadn’t,” I say to Cord, while glaring at Claire. She just shrugs her shoulders and walks into the kitchen.

  “No problem at all,” he replies, reaching over and grabbing my hand. “It gave me the opportunity to see your beautiful face again, E.” He pulls my hand to his lips, placing a sweet kiss on the top.

  “Goodnight, ladies,” he says as he walks out the door, locking and shutting it behind him.

  I stand staring at the back of the door for a moment before Claire breaks my trance.

  “Girl, you need to hit that,” Claire screeches, and I have no doubt Cord heard it from outside.

  “Holy shit, Claire,” I laugh out. “Could you have said that louder? Jesus!”

  I walk over to the door and look out the peephole to see Cord standing outside the door, bent over with his hands on his knees, shaking with laughter. I put my forehead on the door and try like hell not to bang my head against it.

  I walk back into the kitchen where Claire is standing with her back to the counter, shit-eating grin on her face, eyebrow raised high.

  “Spill it. Your face is bright red,” she gushes.

  “Nothing to spill. We had dinner so he could show me the restaurant. He’s my new boss. End of story.” I go back over to the dough to finish up the topping for the potpies.

  “You like him. I can see it all over your face,” she gloats.

  I ignore her and continuing working.

  “Admit it, Ellie. There is nothing wrong with you liking the hot neighbor, boss or not.”

  “So what? I like him, but I’m not ready to date yet. I mean, really, Claire. I’ve been divorced for a few months from the man I spent more than half my life with. I’m nowhere near ready to go down that road again,” I tell her honestly.

  “Nobody said you had to marry him, Ellie. He seems nice, and it helps that he’s gorgeous. What’s wrong with dating?”

  I shake my head, asking myself the same question.

  Justin has obviously moved on. He’s got a new baby and will be remarried soon, to a young fitness model to top it off. The thing is, I do like Cord. I enjoy spending time with him, but am I ready for it to be more than that? I mean, a few dates is one thing, but the idea of someone besides Justin seeing me naked scares the hell out of me, and I know dating someone eventually leads to sex. I know part of the reason he “needed more” was because I’d become that frumpy mom I swore I’d never let myself be. He wasn’t attracted to me anymore. But while I’m being honest with myself, Justin was never overly affectionate even in the beginning, and I can probably count on both hands how many times in the past ten years he told me I was beautiful or I looked pretty. To top it off, I’ve never slept with anyone else either. What if I suck in bed? Justin never complained, but he’s a guy soooo . . . Being intimate with someone else is going to be a huge hurdle for me, I think.

  “I’m scared, Claire,” I announce, almost a whisper. “I’m a divorced, middle-aged mother of three with stretch marks and too much cellulite. What in the hell would a man like Saint Cordero want with a woman like me?”

  Claire walks over to me, removes the rolling pin from my hands, and turns me toward her.

  “Ellie, you listen to me. I can see the wheels in your head turning. You deserve to be happy, and Justin is the one who put these doubts in your head. You are a beautiful woman, and I’m not just saying that because we are best friends. I’m saying it because it’s true. You are beautiful, funny, a wonderful mother, caring and honest, and I could go on and on. Do not doubt your worth.” She pulls me in and hugs me tight. “I want to kick Justin in the nuts for making you feel this way about yourself,” she grumbles out.

  “It’s not totally his fault, ya know. I don’t put much effort into my appearance and Justin lost interest in who I became. I used to be fun, Claire. Not that I regret it for a second because I wouldn’t have my boys, but having kids at such a young age made me grow up a lot faster than all of my friends had too. I became that boring, married, nineteen-year-old with twin babies at home. As much as I try to not think about it, it drives me crazy knowing that I’ve been married to a man who only married me because I got knocked up and then only stuck it out for twenty-one years because I was convenient and made his life easier. He loved me because I was comfortable. I did everything for him. How could you not love someone who gives you everything you want and takes care of every shitty detail of your life so you don’t have to? Apparently, all it took was a hot piece of ass to look his way and show interest and he was done with me. It makes me wonder if there were others before her that I just didn’t find out about. Justin has worked with fitness models for a long time, and he’s hot, so I’m not so sure Julia was the first one to catch his eye.” I just stop talking because Claire’s face is bright red and she looks like she is about to explode.

  “No! Stop right there. No matter what Justin has done over the course of your marriage is moot at this point. You’re divorced. You and Justin haven’t been together for almost a year. I understand you’re not ready to move on with anything serious yet. I get it. Just promise me you’ll have an open mind about dating. Casual dating can be fun. You get to meet new people, see new places. Nobody is saying you have to head down the ‘serious’ highway. Just enjoy being single and have fun, Ellie. You’ve taken care of everyone since you were basically a child yourself. It’s time for you to enjoy your life the way you want instead of trying to make everyone else around you happy,” she says sternly but gently.

  I think about what she’s saying, and she’s right.

  “You’re right. I’ll try to keep an open mind,” I tell her with a smile. “Now, let’s talk about what’s been going on with you and quit harping on my non-existent sex life.”

  We finish up the potpies and throw them in the oven. By the time they’re done, we�
�re a bottle of wine into the evening and discussing all types of girly things, including the fact that yoga boy is a thing of the past and now she’s dating a dentist who does lots of naughty things with his mouth.

  Once dinner is done and we’ve polished off another bottle of wine, we decide to call it a night. Although it’s fairly early, we’ll both need lots of water and ibuprofen in the morning.

  Before we head off to sleep, Claire once again makes me promise to keep an open mind about dating. I know she thinks I should date Cord, but truthfully, the idea of dating someone as gorgeous as Cord makes me even more nervous. He could have any woman he wants. Why would he want to date me?

  THE NEXT COUPLE OF days fly by. I manage to hit the gym every day, switching between cardio and weight training. I’m sore but feel good, energetic even.

  Ben and Eli have called me a couple of times, but are so super busy with classes, and girls I’m sure, they haven’t stopped by again. I’m glad they are starting to adjust to me living on my own. I was beginning to think they were going to move in with me.

  I haven’t heard from Justin, which makes me happy because the random texts were becoming awkward. I can only assume he is busy with the new baby. Amelia. I try not to think about it too much and even deleted the picture Justin sent to me with the boys holding her. I just can’t let myself fall back into feeling sorry for myself.

  I’d scoured Pinterest for hours in an effort to find a cute shorter hair style, something medium length and trendy. I finally decided on a long A-line bob. The color I chose is close to my own, dark brown, but with cinnamon brownish red chunks. It’s an absolutely beautiful color and I can only hope it looks as good on me as it does the model in the picture.

  STARING AT MYSELF in the mirror, I slowly bring my hand up to my hair and run my fingers through it. I can’t believe I actually did it. Kat cut more than two feet off my hair and I love the new style so much. The color is beautiful, although will take some getting used to. It’s darker than I expected and makes me look even paler. Maybe I should try tanning, or better yet, that sunless tanning stuff that won’t cause skin cancer.

  “Well, what do you think, Ellie?” asks Kat.

  “Thank you so much, girl! It is so different than anything I’ve ever done and I absolutely love it!” I smile so big I’m afraid my cheeks will break.

  Kat nods her head and gives me a wink.

  It’s actually pretty amazing how a fresh haircut and color can make you feel so much better about yourself. Scissors and dye.

  THE WEEKEND GOES by quick, and although I see Cord a few times in passing, we don’t really stop to chat. The smiles he gives me tells me he’s happy to see me, but it seems we both are unsure of where this is going. He did mention he likes the new hair, which made me happy.

  When Monday rolls around, I’m a nervous wreck. I know I’m a good chef, but the idea of working side by side with Cord for hours on end kind of freaks me out. Hopefully, once I’m there and we get into a groove, my nerves will settle down a bit.

  I walk into Saint in my new chef coat, bright red as instructed, and black pants, with my trusty bright-colored Danskos on my feet. Knowing this is the start of my career, the one I chose for myself and no one else, is an amazing feeling. For the first time in my life, I’m making a huge life step for no one other than myself. It feels good, and I can only pray I don’t mess this up.

  Franco meets me as I come into the kitchen, introducing me quickly to some of the others. Everyone is friendly and seems to welcome me with open arms. I hope everything progresses this well throughout the day.

  I’m doing prep work when I hear the chatter in the kitchen completely stop. I look up from the prep station I’m working at and watch as Cord walks over to the main sink to wash his hands. When he’s finished, he turns and addresses Franco.

  “Please ensure the prep work has been completed for tonight’s special,” Cord tells Franco in a very business-like tone, which I’ve not heard before. He sounds void of emotion. He doesn’t sound like the Cord I’ve met and spent time with. Maybe he just becomes “business Cord” when he’s in the kitchen.

  My entire shift is super busy and goes by quickly. Before I know it, it’s 10 p.m. and Saint is closing. Cord and I have made eye contact a few times, him always giving me an unemotional nod, before continuing with his own duties. He’s not cold, but I can tell he is very serious in the kitchen. Where before Cord arrived, the kitchen was alive with chatter among the others, the kitchen is filled with nothing but kitchen sounds once he’s in house. He calls out instruction when needed, and replies are immediate from the other kitchen staff. He runs a tight ship.

  As I make my way to the exit, I get a weird feeling, like someone’s watching me. I turn back toward the kitchen and almost run into Franco as he comes through the door behind me.

  “Mrs. Harper, I am so sorry. I was in hurry to leave and didn’t realize I was so close behind you when I came through the door,” he says as he grabs my upper arms to steady me when we collide. He gently releases my arms when he is sure I’m okay.

  “Oh, please, Franco, call me Ellie,” I tell him with a laugh. “And it’s Ms., not Mrs.”

  “I see. Well, I apologize for running you over. Please let me walk you to your car,” he replies genuinely.

  “Thank you, but I only live a few blocks from here and I walked,” I reply.

  “A beautiful lady such as yourself should not be walking outside alone at night. I will drive you home.”

  I’m not sure how to respond to that, but before I can open my mouth, I hear Cord’s voice.

  “Thanks, old friend, but Ellie lives next door to me. I’ll drive her,” he tells him with a warm smile.

  “As you wish,” Franco responds, smiling in return.

  We watch as Franco walks toward his car, but neither of us says anything until he is driving away.

  “This is a nice neighborhood, Cord. I can walk.”

  “Ellie, I’m not allowing you to walk home alone at 10:30 at night. Yes, this is a good neighborhood, but to tell you the truth, I’m a little frightened by your children, so I think I’ll drive you,” he replies with a chuckle.

  I laugh and nod, knowing that arguing will get me nowhere.

  Cord opens the passenger door to his Rover and helps me in. In the few seconds that it takes him to walk around to the driver’s side, I check my reflection quickly in the mirror, knowing after a long shift in a hot kitchen, I probably look like hell. I need to rethink the makeup in the kitchen. It looks like my face is melting off. I run my fingers under my eyes to lessen the raccoon effect happening. Whatever. I’m exhausted.

  As he enters the car, he’s chuckling.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  I nod and look ahead as he pulls out of the parking lot. The apartment complex is literally a two-minute drive from Saint, so I don’t expect there to be much small talk. It’s been a long shift for us both, and, truthfully, I’m hoping this ‘standing on my feet all day’ thing gets easier. My feet are killing me, even with my $150.00 shoes.

  When we pull into the parking area, Cord parks the Rover in his spot and pats my hand before saying, “Sit tight,” before getting out and walking around to open my door.

  Such a gentleman.

  “Ya know, Mr. Cordero, I am completely capable of opening my own door. I appreciate the gentlemanly gesture though,” I tell him with a smile.

  He shakes his head, not looking at my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Harper, but you will not be opening any doors when you are in my presence. My mama taught me better than that.” He smirks at my shocked expression.

  “Well, I can only hope the manners I taught my children stick as well.”

  “All in due time, my dear. My manners have become more important to me as I age. I’m sure your boys behave themselves as they’ve been taught; although, they probably won’t understand the importance of true manners until they fall in love for
the first time and want to do those things for their lady,” he propounds.

  I nod, knowing he is probably right. I only pray my boys are gentleman when they find the women who could someday become my daughters-in-law.

  We make our way to my apartment door, neither of us saying anything else. The chemistry between us isn’t lost on me. I am extremely attracted to Cord, and although he hasn’t exactly come out and said it directly, I can tell he’s affected by me too.

  I put my key in the door and am just about to turn it when Cord reaches out and wraps his fingers around my hand, halting my movement.

  “How did you like your first shift at Saint?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested.

  I smile up at him, noticing immediately how tall he is and the fact he is very close to me.

  “I really enjoyed it. I can tell already that I’ll like my time working at Saint,” I tell him honestly.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he replies as he steps back from me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Nodding, I walk inside and shut and lock the door behind me. Although Cord makes my heart flutter with excitement, he also calms me. His demeanor, the way he always touches me gently with his hand on my lower back or the way he kisses my hand—it’s like my soul just knows he is good for me.

  OVER THE NEXT several weeks, my life finally seems like it’s settling into a new rhythm. Working at Saint is amazing and I enjoy it so much more than I ever thought possible. Cord and I don’t chat much at work, but we run into each other a lot outside of work since we live next door to each other and seem to be hitting the gym at the same time most days. I really enjoy his company. He’s funny, caring, honest, and definitely easy on the eyes. We’ve gotten together for a neighborly dinner a couple of times, and we always fall into easy conversation. He’s super easy to talk to, and we’ve spent hours just chatting about nothing and everything at the same time. He still hasn’t said anything more about his wife, but I don’t expect him to. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.

 

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