by Wilde, Rhea
“I didn’t ask if you were a gourmet chef. You cook your own meals, don’t you? What are you really good at?”
“I don’t know,” I said as I shrugged my shoulders. “I like the spaghetti I make.”
“Spaghetti. That sounds really good.”
“It only sounds good. I’m pretty sure you’ve had better spaghetti before.”
“I’ve never had spaghetti before.”
“What?”
I was suddenly even more confused than I was before. I couldn’t figure him out. I scrunched my face as I shook my head, unable to believe what he was telling me.
“You’ve never had spaghetti?” I said.
“No,” he said as he shook his head. “I don’t even know what it looks like.”
“Okay… Now I know you’re lying.”
“I’m serious! Don’t laugh.”
I couldn’t help myself anymore. Lemonade was one thing but one of the most common foods in the world just made me wonder what kind of life he’d lived. I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to pick up where we left off.
“Well, maybe I can make some spaghetti then,” I told him. “You can stop by my apartment… I mean, if you’re interested… I mean—”
“Ariel, it would be an honor to have dinner with you.”
“Okay.”
I nodded my head and sighed softly in relief that he had accepted my invitation. I was still curious as to whether or not he had any interest in me. He was talking to me right now but it wasn’t enough to convince me that he ran away because he had cold feet.
We walked through the market and picked up the rest of the ingredients. I grabbed some fresh pasta noodles, some ground beef, seasoning and parmesan cheese.
“What is this?” he said as he picked up a jar of spaghetti sauce. “Blood?”
“Blood?” I said as I chuckled to myself. “No, it’s just sauce for the spaghetti.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a lot of tomatoes in it… Some sugar, I think…”
“Sugar? They just put that in everything, huh?”
“Well, I do. It makes everything taste a little bit better.”
I gave him a sly look as I grabbed the jar from him and shoved it into my bag. While we shopped for the rest of the ingredients, I noticed that Vaughn was curious about everything I was picking up. He had an almost childlike amazement about everything I was getting. He was completely oblivious to the fact that everything was already pre-made and that I was just throwing all of the ingredients together.
When we finally finished, we stood just outside of the market next to one another, planning our next move together.
“Now I get to watch you cook it, right?”
“No,” I said. “I can’t let you do that.”
“What? Why not?”
I was already embarrassed about the mess my apartment was in. I couldn’t just let him walk in again, especially while I was cooking. The kitchen would look like a train wreck as I ran around it. The last thing I wanted to do was have this handsome man observing me while I cooked in chaos.
“No,” I said as I shook my head. “You can stop by my apartment after I’m done cooking. It’ll be boring. You don’t want to watch me cook.”
“But I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
This is the one thing I wouldn’t let him have. I was adamant about not letting him step foot into my apartment while I made a mess of myself. He looked disappointed when I stood my ground.
“Okay,” he sighed. “I’ll stop by your apartment after everything is finished.”
“You still remember where I live, right?”
“I do, Ariel.”
“Stop by around eight o’clock tonight.”
“Eight? Isn’t that kind of late?”
“If you stop by any earlier, I won’t let you in. Why? Am I keeping you up past your bedtime? You stick around the bar pretty late if I remember correctly.”
“Right, right,” he chuckled as he nodded his head. “Okay. Eight. I’ll be there.”
“Great. You won’t regret it.”
“I know I won’t. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do until then.”
“That’s not my problem, Vaughn.”
I smiled at him and he winked at me before turning around and beginning to walk away. I watched him for a moment and then it dawned on me. I was tasked with making the most perfect meal he’d ever had. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I couldn’t. All I wanted was to enjoy my day off. But Vaughn showed up out of nowhere and now I was more nervous than I’d ever been.
Chapter 9
The clock was ticking. I had no problem making myself dinner. The issue was making it for someone else. I wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect for Vaughn.
I had an advantage if he was serious about not having the most common pasta dish in the world but that didn’t mean I could just throw everything together. I simmered and seasoned the beef until it was just right. I warmed the noodles until everything was ready. I had contemplated putting some garlic bread together on the side but a devilish thought in my head told me that I didn’t want the taste of garlic on my lips.
I was glad he wasn’t here. I was so frantic around the kitchen with so many burners on the stove going that I was a mess. Thankfully, I had changed out of my clothes and the pasta sauce that exploded out of its pot when I overheated it only ruined a shirt that was long overdue for a wash. By the time I had finished, it looked like a whirlwind had made its way through my kitchen. I dumped all of the dirty dishes into the sink and scrubbed and scraped them. I cleaned up the kitchen from any spots even though he wouldn’t go anywhere near it. Everything was ready to eat. But that was only the beginning.
I told him eight o’clock because I needed all the time in the world to get ready. It was like a first date except it was all inside of my apartment. I picked up all of my dirty laundry and vacuumed the carpet. I wiped down the mess of a coffee table and put away all of the books and magazines scattered everywhere. My apartment made the bar I worked at look spotless. I was completely exhausted when it was over. My shirt was wet with sweat and my muscles were sore from running back and forth to rearrange everything. It just had to be perfect.
Now that I had the apartment clean, I could focus on the most important thing of the night: cleaning myself up. I stood in the shower and washed away all of the sweat and dirt that had built-up. I was away from work and in the comfort of my own bathroom. The distractions of the strange occurrences from the past few nights were no longer on my mind. Now I could focus on myself.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror as I started to dab my makeup on. I tied my hair up over my head. I wasn’t leaving my apartment but I was doing everything I could to doll myself up. Standing naked in front of the mirror, I wondered what would look best on me. What outfit would drive Vaughn absolutely wild and make him go crazy? The answer was simple. I pulled out a little black number that I never wore around these parts. Thankfully, it was buried in the back of my closet and the moths hadn’t gotten to it yet. Pulling the dress over my body, I adjusted it so that it rested up against my skin. It was a little tighter than I had hoped but hopefully, Vaughn wouldn’t be paying attention to that. I adjusted the thin spaghetti straps over my shoulders, leaned toward the mirror and then poked my cleavage out just a little farther. Then I turned around and made sure that it looked just as good from the back as it did from the front. I put on a matching pair of heels and finally let out a sigh as I looked at myself. Finally, I lit a few candles around my apartment and turned off the lights. If everything else failed, the darkness would hide any imperfections he might otherwise see.
I was done but I was still panicking. I kept making sure that everything was still warm and ready to serve. I looked at my reflection to see if my makeup had smeared. The clock continued to tick down and I grew less and less confident that things would work out as perfect as they would in my head.
Vaughn was s
uch an amazing man. It wasn’t just that he was hot and I wanted him to have his way with me. There was something else about him. He had this charm that was intoxicating just from standing next to him. A part of me dreaded having to deal with it. But I was waiting for him. That’s what I had truly hoped for.
Right when I least expected it, there was a knock at the door. I was pacing in my apartment but stopped in my tracks when I heard it. Slowly, I made my way over to the door. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, I opened the door.
Vaughn was standing there, looking just as ravishing as he always did. His leather jacket was stretched tight over his broad shoulders, underneath it a black v-neck t-shirt that covered a mystery I was eager to solve. His blonde hair was slicked back over his head and tied back into a stiff ponytail.
"Wow. You look amazing."
"Thank you," I said as I started to blush.
“These are for you,” he said as he handed me an unexpected bouquet of flowers.
“I-I… I don’t… I mean, you didn’t have to get me flowers.”
“It’s the least I could do, since you are cooking me dinner.”
“Yeah but it was something I wanted to do anyway.”
“And I wanted to do this for you.”
He hadn't even stepped through the door and he made me blush twice already. I buried my face in the flowers to take in their sweet fragrance.
“Come in,” I said. “Have a seat at the table and make yourself comfortable.”
I didn’t have a spot to put the flowers, so I laid them gently on the kitchen countertop. I could see Vaughn sitting at the dinner table from the corner of my eye and my body started to shake with nervousness.
“It smells really good,” he said.
“Thanks…”
I looked up at him for just a second and he was sitting there at the table, patiently waiting for the dinner I had painstakingly prepared for him. I placed the plate in front of him and poured him another fresh glass of lemonade, curious to see if he would appreciate it just as he did the first time. He immediately grabbed the glass and took a big gulp. I was fascinated as I watched him chug the entire glass, placing it back down on the table and smacking his lips. I stared at him, half-astonished that he was so satisfied with the lemonade, and he looked at me like he had made a mistake.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just… delicious.”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t have to apologize. I made plenty. I’m glad you like it.”
“I do.”
I poured him another glass and he restrained himself by taking just a single sip. I took a seat across the table from him and as we sat there in silence, I anxiously waited for him to taste the meal I wanted him to enjoy.
“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t remember the last time anybody has actually cooked for me before.”
“Really? What do you usually eat? Do you make your own meals?”
“...I’m not much of a cook. Usually I end up heading into the city to find something to eat. Restaurants. Fast-food. Stuff like that.”
“Well, thank you for coming to my place and taking the time to eat my cooking. It’s not much but—”
“Ariel.”
“Yes?”
“I really do appreciate this.”
The genuine sincerity coming from the sapphires of his eyes hypnotized me once again. Nobody has ever made me feel this way before and certainly not about my cooking. He made me feel appreciated and I was beginning to lose my train of thought. After a few seconds, I shook my head and started to laugh, breaking free from the trance he had put me in.
“Don’t let me stop you,” I told him. “There’s plenty to eat so have as much as you like. I hope you enjoy it.”
“I will.”
He grabbed the fork and started stabbing at the spaghetti. I watched him pick it high up off of the plate, the noodles dangling high above his head as he lowered them into his mouth. If he truly hadn’t eaten spaghetti before, he was certainly doing all he could to prove that point. I started to laugh just a bit as I watched him eat in an almost childlike manner. He noticed me smiling at him and he lowered the fork back down on his plate.
“It’s really good,” he said to me. “I wish I had tasted it a lot sooner.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s just… Most people don’t usually eat it like that.”
“How do they eat it?”
“Usually they bring the fork up to their mouth, not down. Or they spin it around their fork so they can eat it in a single bite. Like this. See?”
I twirled my fork inside of my pasta as Vaughn watched me intently. I raised my fork off of the plate and pointed it at him with the noodles wrapped around it. He started to slowly nod his head in understanding and I again started to smile at him. I didn’t think that I would have to explain to him how to eat it but I was enjoying myself. For a moment, I wasn't worried about trying to impress him or making a fool of myself.
Vaughn quickly got the hang of it and he could finally focus on the dinner I made for him.
“You should be a cook,” he said to me.
“What?” I started to laugh. “Because of this?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“No, any woman who’s worth her weight can make spaghetti. And certainly better than I can prepare it. Most of the stuff I make is already pre-packaged. I’m just throwing it all together. Nobody would want to eat what I made.”
“I would.”
I coughed and stuffed more of the food into my mouth to hide my reddening face. Vaughn was saying all of the right things. Things that I wanted to hear. If he wasn’t trying to sweep me off of my feet, he was doing a terrible job. I was already attracted to him. He didn’t need to do much else for me to fall completely for him but he was doing everything he could.
“How long have you been working there?” he asked me.
“Just a few months.”
“And how do you like it?”
“It’s… It’s fine. I make a good amount of money. It’s an easy job. All of my coworkers are fun to be around.”
“Is that why you came out here?”
I thought about his question before I answered. I already knew what the answer was. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell him. What would he think of me if he knew that everybody else had turned me away and I had nowhere else to go? I had family and friends that wanted nothing to do with me. I didn’t want him to be like the rest of them.
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered. “It was the right opportunity. I was in the right place at the right time. Frank needed another girl and he picked me.”
“So it was just chance that you randomly stopped into that bar when you did.”
“...Yeah.”
All of Vaughn’s questions were making me think about everything I was doing and had already done when I first got into the city. The truth was that I wasn’t completely happy. I didn’t fit in here. After all of these months, it still felt foreign to me. I didn’t want Vaughn to know that though, so I hid my face by looking down at the plate in front of me and quietly eating my dinner.
Vaughn stopped probing me as he continued to eat. His appetite was voracious. I was more than happy to provide him plate after plate of the spaghetti that I made for him. He enjoyed that and the lemonade like he hadn’t eaten in ages. He managed to eat more than I had expected and when he finally finished, there wasn’t a single morsel of food left. I looked across the table at him and he seemed completely satisfied, content with the food that I had stuffed down his throat, but none the worse for wear.
“Thank you, Ariel. I… I haven’t eaten like that in a long time.”
“You didn’t have to eat all of it, you know. I’m just… happy you’re here.”
“I know. It was really good. Thoroughly enjoyable.”
“Thank you…”
We smiled across the table from one another and the awkward silence I had w
anted to avoid started to creep its way in. Before it could settle, I jumped out of my seat.
“Let me get these plates and clean up.”
“Let me help you, Ariel.”
“No. No, please. Sit. You’re my guest.”
I put my hand up to keep him in his seat as I grabbed the plates and brought them back into the kitchen. As I soaked the dishes in the sink, I realized that the easy part was over. Now what was going to happen?
Thankfully, Vaughn had taken some initiative and he sat on the couch in my living room as he waited for me. I took a seat on the sofa across from him and smiled politely at him, thinking of what to say next.
“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.
“For what?”
“About the other night. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’m not mad about that. You didn’t have to stay if you didn’t want to.”
“Not just that. I’m sorry about what I asked you. To stay here in your apartment.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t even know me. It was… I don’t know what came over me, Ariel. Please forgive me.”
“I’m not upset, Vaughn. But maybe, we should… get to know each other a little. Maybe then wanting to live with me won’t seem so ridiculous.”
“You’re right. What do you want to know?”
What did I already know about him? I only knew a few things about him and that was just that he liked the food I made for him.
“Um, what is your last name?”
“Garrison.”
“Vaughn Garrison… Where are you from?”
“From one of the boroughs in New York City. I moved there with my parents when I was a kid and have lived here ever since.”
“Where are your parents now?”
Vaughn shrugged his shoulders and scratched the side of his head in indifference.
“I… I don’t know,” he said. “They could be anywhere at this point. I came to this city and haven't seen them since I was a child.”
“I’m sorry, Vaughn. I didn’t mean to—”
“I know, Ariel. It’s not a big deal to me.”
“No, it’s just that… I know what it feels like. I haven’t seen my parents, my entire family even, in a long time. Sometimes I even wonder if they still think I exist.”