Calla's Kitchen_One of the Boys

by Teresa Crumpton

  Fuck!

  When I get to her place, I park and take the stairs all the way up to her floor. I’m in need of an outlet for my anger. Baggie meets me at the door of the loft.

  “At least you’re happy to see me.” I bend down and scoop him up, scratching his head as I walk down the hall to her guest room.

  After what we did last night in this room, I can’t stay here. The room still smells of sex, and I really want to tie her up and spank that little ass of hers. I drop Baggie to the bed and move around the room gathering all my things. From the closet, I pull out my bags and start tossing everything in. Normally, I’d fold and pack everything in an organized manner, but not tonight. No, tonight I just want to get the fuck out of here before she returns.

  I pull my phone from my pocket and dial the one person I know will keep my location quiet.

  “Yo,” Rex says into the phone.

  “I need to crash at your place tonight. I’m heading to the lake in the morning.”

  “Is Calla going with you?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “Key’s under the mat.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try not to drink all your scotch.”

  “I’ll kick your ass if you do. I have to go.” He disconnects, and I toss the phone on the bed.

  I finish packing, give Baggie a little more love, write Calla a note, and head to Rex’s place.

  Chapter 29

  Calla

  Trey drives me home. However, he’s focusing more on me than the road, and if I didn’t find it so sweet, I would smack him. Right now, he’s worse than my 90-year-old grandmother, and I want to beat my head on the dashboard. Occasionally, he glances in the rearview mirror, which makes me check the side mirrors. There is a car following us, and I’m pretty sure it's Adam. If Ella didn't have school in the morning, I’m pretty sure Forest would be right behind us too.

  I have way too many men in my life that are like brothers, and the one biological brother I have is bad enough.

  “This should spice up the menu a little.” Trey wiggles his eyebrows trying to joke, but it falls flat.

  I can only imagine the expression on my face, because he grimaces.

  “You guys always cook better when you're giving each other shit. Sorry, but you know it’s true. And he hasn’t given you shit, nor have y’all really griped at each other, since you found Torrance with the bitch from hell.” We sit in silence at a light, tears streaming down my face.

  “It’s days like this that I'm glad I don't date.”

  I glance over at him and give a little snort. “You might not be dating yet, but you’re fucking. And don’t try to tell me you’re not. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been a little more social and happy than you were three months ago. And when all this is sorted out, you and I will have a conversation about that. But right now, I’m not going to pry. I know you won’t say a damn thing until you’re good and ready, anyway. And after your, ‘I’m glad I don’t date,’ remark, I know I won’t get shit out of you tonight.”

  He smiles back. “You see way too much.” Trey guns it, finally driving like he owns the sports car we’re in.

  With him driving the speed limit, if not faster, we make it the rest of the way to my loft in no time flat.

  Trey takes my keys while we’re in the elevator and takes the lead when we exit. Adam’s arm wraps around me as we walk down the hall. Trey has us wait at the door while he quickly searches the loft. I know that he’s checking to see if Wes is here, or if he’s gone. I’m betting he took off, and it sickens me to think that he’d just give up and run away.

  “Come on in,” Trey yells at us.

  Adam places his hand on my lower back in support and slowly guides me inside the loft, over to the couch. As I sit down, Baggie jumps up on my lap and rubs his face against my hand. Adam walks away, and I soon hear water running behind me. The water turns off, but Adam doesn’t come back to the living room as quickly as I thought he would. In fact, by the time he and Trey come to sit down with me, I’ve zoned out.

  When Adam returns to the couch, he’s carrying a glass of water and three tumblers filled with amber liquid. He sets all four glasses on the coffee table before handing me the water and sliding one of the glasses of whiskey in front of me. As soon as the water is in my hand, Baggie jumps down and climbs up in the chair across from me.

  “I called Nessa on the drive here. She told me to stay as long as I need to, but to bring her home ice cream.” Adam passes Trey one of the highball glasses, clinks glasses with him, and takes a seat next to me. I stare off toward nothing, sipping the ice water.

  She’s been having a lot of cravings lately.

  Trey clears his throat and scoots closer to the table. “Calla, Wes left this for you.”

  Cautiously he hands a folded piece of paper to me. I place my water on a coaster and unfold the note.

  Calla,

  I'm sorry for my behavior tonight. I'm taking some time off. I need to figure out my shit. I know this leaves you shorthanded. I will try to be back next week. Please let me have this time alone. I know Trey and Adam will watch over you and help you finish the new menu. It's a great menu! You'll do fine.

  Wes

  I read it aloud before dropping the paper to the ground and picking up the whiskey.

  I down the contents in one swallow as tears fill my eyes again. I blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling, while Adam and Trey blankly look at each other and the letter I’ve dropped. A long breath I didn’t realize I was holding releases from my lungs.

  “Holy hell… this isn't good,” Adam mumbles and tosses his drink back.

  Trey looks cautiously at him.

  Adam pinches the bridge of his nose, shoves off the couch, and walks back to the kitchen. He’s not gone long, and when he returns, he has the whiskey bottle in his hand. He pours himself, and me, another glass.

  “It's going to be fine, Calla. He'll be back before you know it.” Trey takes a sip of his whiskey then lowers his hand holding the glass just above the coffee table.

  I lift my head to face Trey and nod. There’s something brewing behind his green eyes, but right now, I can’t bring myself to analyze it. I glance between my friends and possible business partners, and wonder if Trey is right, or if I'm about to lose Wes in both ways. They both pull their expressions together in time to comfort me. At least, they try to. But I don’t fall for it. I grab the glass, and once again slam it back, letting the burn of the alcohol dull my senses. I curl up on the couch next to Adam. Neither one of the guys says anything while I lay there. In fact, the only sound that’s made is when Trey gets up and comes to sit on the table in front of me. He and Adam rub my leg to comfort me.

  I’m not sure how much time passes before they have to leave. They both lightly kiss my head before cleaning up the highball glasses and whiskey. Trey places my cell on the table within reaching distance.

  “Call one of us if you need us, Calla. I swear, Darlin’, we will fix this.” He kisses me one last time, but I don’t move. I just stare off at nothing as if I’m in a catatonic state.

  In the distance, I hear the heavy front door close quietly behind them. I fall asleep at some point, though I’m not sure when. It’s like I’ve blinked, and one minute the night sky is showing through the living room windows, and the next, the first rays of sun are blinding me.

  I reach toward the coffee table for my phone, grabbing it and Wes's letter. I read it again, and instead of being sad, I’m pissed. Even though it’s literally the ass-crack of dawn, I dial his number. It goes straight to voicemail, telling me he’s turned off his phone.

  Fucking asshole. You’re fucking lucky I don’t call your brothers. And Ben. They’d track your ass down and beat the shit out of you for being such a pussy!

  Granted, I can’t even remember where they all are at the moment. I can’t always keep up with their schedules. Either last weekend or this weekend is probably their bye week, but I could be wrong. I toss the pho
ne back on the table and scream. Baggie glares at me from his perch.

  “Why does he have to be a such a stubborn ass?” I yell.

  I push myself into a sitting position and scrub my face with my hands. Rising, I make my way to my bathroom. The nasty cottonmouth feeling is not pleasant, and since I fell asleep on the couch, I didn’t brush my teeth last night. There’s no way I’ll be able to eat or drink anything before I feel clean. When I feel human again, I make my way to the kitchen and fix breakfast.

  Instead of eating at the dining room table, I take my porridge concoction and orange juice out on the terrace, picking up my phone and the letter along the way. Baggie saunters out with me. He picks his spot on the furniture as I sit next to him, kicking my feet up on the glass table. Before re-reading the damn note, I take a bite of my breakfast. The mix of nuts, fruit compote, milk, butter, and honey hit the spot, and I scoop up another spoonful. Placing the bowl in my lap, I read through Wes’s letter again. Crumpling the paper into a ball, I throw it on the table in a huff. I take a sip of my juice and attempt to finish my breakfast before it gets cold.

  After breakfast, I lace up my running shoes and head out. When I hit the lobby, I push my earbuds in my ears and slowly start jogging up the street toward UT. The closer I get to UT’s campus, the faster I jog, until I’m at my normal pace. The music on my phone changes to Everything from Lifehouse, and I’m bombarded with a slew of contrasting emotions warring inside me. One minute I want to throttle someone, and the next, I want to curl up in a corner and hide for the rest of my days. Picking up my pace, I try to drown all the emotions, or out-run them, if either is possible. In the blink of an eye, I’ve passed the campus, and unlike usual, I’m able to push bystanders on the street out of my sight and just run.

  Focusing on the beat of the music, my emotions, and the thudding feeling of my feet hitting the pavement, I zone out until another song change. Slowing a little, I’m not sure where I’m headed as I round the capitol building. Meghan Trainor’s Like I’m Gonna Lose You filters into my ears. Everything's a blur until I come up to Trey's corner. There’s a small cafe on the opposite corner, and I cross the street, heading straight for it. I grab one of the small iron tables outside. As I get settled, a server walks over and takes my order. Finally, something works in my favor. I place a small order then call Trey.

  “Morning, Darlin’,” he answers in a groggy voice.

  “Morning. I’m just calling to let you know I’m alive.”

  “Did you sleep okay?” he asks.

  The server returns, placing my bottle of water and an iced chai in front of me.

  “Thank you,” I respond.

  “Are you out?”

  “Yes. I’m across the street from you. I was out on a run.”

  “Do you want me to come down?”

  “Nah. Stay in bed. As for your question on how I slept, I’m honestly not sure. But, I feel rested,” I reply.

  “And have you been crying again?”

  “No. I’m actually more pissed off now.” I crack the seal on the water bottle and take a long gulp. “I did think about calling Ben and Wes’s brothers to go kick his ass.”

  “Are they on a bye week, or out of town?”

  “Hell if I know. Yeah, I know I should know where Ben is, but I haven’t been focused on his games this season,” I admit.

  “I get it. You’re okay though?”

  “As okay as I can be. I’m going to let you go, so I can finish my drink and get back to the loft. We’ll talk more at work. Deal?” I pick up the chai and sip it.

  “See you in two hours. You walking, or do I need to pick you up?” Trey questions.

  “It’s supposed to be hotter than fuck today, so please come get me.”

  “Deal. Bye, Darlin’.”

  I say my goodbye and disconnect. I sit back, putting my earbuds in my ears and pushing play. Closing my eyes, I settle myself, taking sips of both the chai and water. After a handful of songs, I suck down the rest of my chai, pull cash out of my secret pocket, and leave it on the table as I grab the bottle of water and stand. I do a few stretches then start back toward my place.

  By the time I make it back to the loft, the newspaper has been delivered to my door. I pick it up when I walk in. Kicking off my shoes and unplugging my earbuds, I trapse into the living room. Hot and sweaty, I start to toss the paper on the couch until I glimpse where Ben is this week. One headline reads, The Texans are in Dallas This Week.

  I lean on the back of the couch and open the paper. As I flip through it, I come across another announcement about Torrance's wedding. A new sound rumbles from my throat.

  “They truly are fucking perfect for each other.” Quickly, I flip past the page until I get to the latest food reviews.

  There’s a picture of Belladonna front and center. I fold back the section and brace myself for another shitty review.

  Belladonna had some fireworks two nights ago. The house opened its doors to a table full of food critics celebrating Owner/Chef Calla Bond's ex-fiancée, and food critic, Torrance Patterson’s pre-rehearsal dinner. Calla jokingly tried to kill Torrance's guests only once, when she brought out some fresh belladonna. The rest of the night's fireworks came from Calla's possible new menu. The spinach stuffed leg of lamb was to die for. This was the best dinner I've ever had. It tops everything Calla has done in the past. Calla has found something to bring her back to life, and whatever it is, she needs to hold on to it. She's in for a great ride.

  “Fuck yessssss!” I yell, shaking my ass around the loft.

  “I need to tell Wes and the guys.” I grab my cell and dial Wes first. Of course he doesn’t answer, so I leave a message.

  Me: You’re being a fucking asshole. We got a new review. Call me!!!

  Instead of throwing my cell like I want to, I conference call Trey and Adam. They answer, and I can barely contain my excitement as I read them the highlights of the review.

  Chapter 30

  Calla

  I sit on my prep counter, my long hair down for a change, wearing old, holey jeans, boots, and a light blue t-shirt. The news article is next to me so everyone can read it. My impatience becomes apparent when I drum my fingers on the steel counter while I wait for the guys to arrive. After talking to them earlier, my elation from the article got me up and moving, and I couldn’t sit still long enough for Trey to come get me.

  He saunters in first, followed by Forest, Adam, and Nessa. I grin at them, but when I get a good look at Nessa, my smile slips. She looks like hell. Well, green is more like it, but still.

  “Are you sure you want to be here?” I ask her.

  She shrugs. “Not really. But after the shit that Adam,” she cuddles into his side, “keeps telling me about, I’m done not being here.”

  “Okay, but if you need to hang in the office, go for it. I think we’d rather have you healthy. Hell, I’ll even get someone to take you home if you need it.” I jump off the counter and hug both of them.

  “I can work with that.” She hugs me tighter.

  I can’t imagine what they’re going through as they try for a baby. It’s been a rough road, and it doesn't look like it's getting any easier.

  “Okay. Now that we have that settled....” I step back and rub my hands together. They all start laughing at me, so I can tell my expression is working. “I want to start the new menu this week.”

  They all stare at me, bewildered.

  “Wait... what? You want to start it without Wes here? Are you sure?” Trey sputters but quickly composes himself.

  “Yes. He wanted to jump to fucking conclusions and be an ass, so fuck him!”

  “Alright! Let’s get started.” He pushes the others to move.

  Trey helps me fire up the stove and bring out the food. We need to finish the new menu quickly.

  “What can I do?” Nessa offers.

  Adam leaves the kitchen, and when he returns, he has a bar chair for Nessa. Picking her up, he sits her on it before she can say another wo
rd. I slide a chopping board and knife toward her while Trey passes over veggies for her to chop.

  At his station, Forest gets to work on the new desserts he and Wes have been working on. Adam leans against the counters, adding garnish and tasting all the food. He’s also taking notes on a notepad after tasting each bite.

  “You know, one would think I'd be getting fatter with all this food you keep shoving down my throat,” he quips, while holding out a bite for Nessa to try.

  I roll my eyes. “Fucker. You’re enjoying feeding your wife.” He winks at me, and I smile and get back to work.

  As the first round of dishes are completed, the back door buzzes, signaling food and wine deliveries. Adam glances at his watch and hot-foots it to the door. He checks over the deliveries as the rest of us work our magic.

  “So, what do you think?” Trey gestures to the food spread across the expedite counter.

  “It looks amazing. Has everyone tried a bite of everything, so we know how it tastes?” I question.

  “I don’t think I did,” Nessa replies. “But Adam has tasted it all, and I’ve tasted a little. Everything I had was delicious.”

  “It’s fucking awesome! I have drink ideas for each pairing. And I’m stuffed,” Adam adds from the walk-in where he’s finishing the deliveries.

  “I have another idea that’s going to throw everything off, but I’d like to try it.”

  “Let’s hear it, Darlin’.” Trey leans against the counter as Forest places the last dessert down.

  “I’d like to throw out the menus completely and create a new one each night. Make every night special.”

  “So... you’re thinking just have something like a specials menu, and nothing that’s always on the menu?” Nessa clarifies.

  “Exactly. The menu will always be different. We can have a total of twelve items on every menu for the day, but we won’t serve the same things every night. I think that’s been part of my issue. Well, besides Torrance helping with the original one.”