Love Is Overdue

by Natalie Myrie

  But then my rational senses took over again and I snapped myself right out of all my ridiculous thoughts. I definitely wasn’t crazy enough to have coffee with this woman, no matter how curious I was about her.

  “Sorry.” I found my voice again. I took a deep breath. “I think we’d all agree that to forgive and forget is a great motto to live by, but unfortunately it’s not a decision you can make for someone else...at least...in my opinion.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not right. I mean, those two...they’re not really the same without each other. I can’t imagine them taking this shit to their graves...it’s not worth it.”

  I thought about that. Then maybe you need to back the fuck off and get out of both of their lives. My evil little subconscious was attempting to put in her two cents.

  I needed to get out of there. And then, like magic, my cell phone rang.

  “Where the hell are you, Gabby?” Tony sounded frantic, but then he was always worked up about something.

  It was all the excuse I needed, though, and I bolted my ass straight out of there, promising Tony I was only minutes away.

  I decided to text Ben the minute I got out onto the street.

 

  His reply came about ten minutes, just before I got to the tapas bar to meet Tony and the rest of his crew.

 

  I smiled to myself and lit a cigarette, enjoying the cool breeze that seemed to soothe me all over. Tony could wait a few minutes.

  Ω

  The address Ben had given me didn’t really mean much to me until I realized that a place on Spruce and West 6th Avenue meant that he lived in a semi-detached condo overlooking False Creek. Obviously, I knew that owning a restaurant as popular as The Rock meant that he had to be somewhat financially stable, but I still didn’t seem prepared for exactly how comfortable he must have been.

  Because the condo was situated on a hill, the front door opened to the second level. Lena opened the door for me a few moments after I rung the buzzer.

  “Hey, what’s up, come on in...” She greeted me and stepped aside for me to enter. “Ben told me you were on your way, he just had to step out for a minute.”

  I smiled and then glanced around, taking in my surroundings. The upper level of the condo consisted of a foyer and a couple bedrooms and a bathroom, but the doors to the rooms were closed. I noticed right away a few more of his mother’s black and white photographs framed on the walls in the foyer along with a picture of Ben and his daughter on the beach. The lower level of the condo was visible over a railing from the foyer, as the whole place had an open concept that overlooked huge windows with a magnificent view of the harbour.

  Lena led me down the stairs to the large kitchen and living room that had a balcony off the eating area. I noticed the camera equipment already set up in the kitchen, which was ultra-modern. Granite counter-tops with an under-mounted double sink, stainless steel appliances, a state of the art cooking range and an island with a few bar stools. It definitely served as the perfect set up for a cooking show.

  I was floored. He actually fucking lived here?

  Lena seemed to notice the look on my face as I took in my surroundings. “Nice, huh?” She seemed to read my mind. “Ben bought this place through a foreclosure about...six months ago? I still can’t believe his luck, I tell him all the time...”

  “Yeah...” I caught my breath as I stopped to take in the view from the harbour. The Vancouver sky-line was always one of the most breathtaking vistas, in my mind.

  “Check out the herb garden,” she said, leading me onto the balcony.

  It was surprisingly large. Not only did Ben have enough room for a modest herb garden, but he also had a monstrously large stainless steel BBQ grill and beside it an ancient-looking charcoal smoker, and enough room for a decent sized patio table and chairs.

  “Fuck. Ben...” I was beyond impressed, and Lena laughed along with me.

  “You’re telling me...lucky bastard,” she muttered under her breath, collapsing down onto one of the patio chairs and lighting up a cigarette.

  It was all the temptation I could handle, so I decided to sit down and join her, gazing out over the water. “So where is everybody?” I wondered.

  “Well...Adam and Patrick went on a beer run and Ben had to go pick up some stuff from the market and check on things at the restaurant. This shit never runs on schedule, just so you know...”

  I kind of laughed. “That’s okay. I was told I’m only observing.”

  Her phone went off all of a sudden. She glanced at the screen and then picked up. “Hey, what’s up?” Slight pause. “No, it’s all good, everything ready to go...yeah, they’ll probably be back in a few minutes...I don’t know, I was gonna ask you the same thing...” Another slight pause and then she laughed. “Yeah, she’s right here, you wanna talk to her?” My ears perked up. “Oh, okay...cool, see you soon.” She clicked off her phone and turned to me. “That was Ben...apparently he’s on his way.”

  I smiled, taking another drag of my cigarette. “You guys known each other a while, huh?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, like ten years or something. I used to date his cousin and we all used to hang out back in the day...”

  “Ben told me you’re the one responsible for the whole youtube sensation he’s become,” I joked.

  “I know,” she said dryly. “Ben owes me fifty percent of all his success. Half this shit you see should rightfully be mine.”

  I laughed at that. I was starting to enjoy her wacky personality and dry humour. She was my kinda chick...

  “So you two have gotten kinda tight,” she said, putting me on the spot. “What’s up with that?”

  My eyes popped open. “Uhhh...not sure yet,” I said quickly, playing it safe.

  She smiled. “It’s all good... All his faults aside, Ben’s a good guy. But am sure you know that.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Faults, huh?”

  She shook her head. “No, am just messin’ wit you. I’m actually kind of surprised he allowed me to be alone with you. It’s a good sign, though. It means he trusts you.”

  I laughed again. “That’s good to know...”

  Ω

  A few minutes later I excused myself and headed back through the kitchen and up the stairs, in search of the toilet. I resisted the urge to peek inside the two closed bedroom doors but I was impressed enough with his pimped out bathroom. His tub/shower had a jet spa. This really was fucking unbelievable. I was starting to second Lena’s sentiment. He really was a lucky bastard...

  I peeked inside the medicine cabinet, needing to satisfy my urge to snoop just a little. I smiled to myself when I noticed only the one toothbrush, if you didn’t count the child-sized brush alongside the bubblegum-flavoured toothpaste. And of course...he hadn’t lied about the Armani cologne.

  I heard the front door open as I was washing my hands and reapplying my lipstick, so I composed myself quickly and set back out to find Lena.

  As I stepped back out into the foyer I glanced over the railing and saw Ben in the kitchen, looking as gorgeous as ever, wearing a pair of distressed blue jeans that hung so irresistibly low on his hips and a yellow t-shirt half-tucked into his waist, which sported a silver ganja-leafed belt-buckle. He looked good enough to eat, his dreads tied back in that sexy way of his.

  I took one glance back at the mirror, embarrassingly noting that I had taken a cue from his ex, Angela, and was wearing some tight-fitting skinny jeans and a purple low-cut top that showed off that cleavage that Ben seemed to love so much.

  I saw Ben glance up the stairs as I made my way down to meet him.

  “Hey.” I smiled sweetly as I watched his eyes molest me from head to toe
.

  “Hey,” he said simply, not taking his eyes off me. “How you doing?”

  I sighed as I stopped in front of him, leaning up over the kitchen island. “Good...nice place, Ben.” Understatement, of course.

  He smiled. “Glad you like it.”

  I noticed Lena still out on the balcony, talking away on her cell phone.

  “Yup. This is my dream kitchen actually. This and that view.” I gave him a little teasing look. “You a lucky boy.”

  “Yes I am,” he agreed with me easily, as he started unpacking a bag of fresh vegetables and arranging them in a large fruit bowl. “Lena get you a drink yet?”

  “No. Just got here though,” I admitted, as I saw Ben glance over at Lena on the balcony and then watched her mouth the words “on the phone” as if it wasn’t obvious.

  Ben kind of laughed. “You want a glass of wine?” He nodded toward the three bottles of red on the counter behind him next to the refrigerator. “Take ya pick...” He pulled out a glass from the cupboard and a corkscrew from the drawer and set it down next to me as he leaned over and gave me a quick little kiss on my forehead. It gave me goosebumps. “Make yourself at home...am just gonna go change...”

  And so before I turned to make my selection I decided to watch his delicious-looking body head up the stairs and through one of those closed doors.

  Before Ben made it back downstairs, Adam and Patrick showed up with two six-packs of Heineken and introduced themselves to me briefly before busying themselves with the camera equipment and a sleek Mac Book Pro. They were both white boys, which surprised me a little, both around the same age as Ben. Patrick was covered in tattoos, which looked good on his muscular body, and Adam was smaller, skinnier, and looked like a metal-head with his long blond hair and scruffy beard.

  “Damn...” Lena stepped back in through the sliding doors, clicking off her phone.

  Patrick looked up. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “Oh nothing – just drama with Lisa,” she said then, making herself comfortable on one of the bar stools. “My sister,” she said then, turning to me. “She left for Barbados with one of her girls last night and they lost her luggage at the airport and she’s trippin’...”

  She turned to grab the bottle of Shiraz I had opened and poured herself a glass, just as Ben started making his way back down the stairs, looking fine as hell in a light-grey button down shirt and those same sexy jeans. He had tied his dreads back neatly with a thick black band.

  He grabbed an apron from a drawer in the kitchen island. “So we ready to roll or what?”

  Adam was sitting browsing something on the lap top. “I got a rough cut of the new promo video – wanna check it out?”

  “Yeah, man...hook it up in there,” Ben said nodding toward the living room.

  And so instead we all headed over onto the massive leather sectional in the living room. Adam set about hooking up the lap top to Ben’s giant 52 inch plasma television mounted on the wall, while Patrick began rolling up a massive communal blunt for us, some Tupac pumping from the surround-sound.

  I smiled, settling back to watch Ben in his element, all the back and forth banter between him and his boys making it obvious they were tight. I knew he’d met Patrick through Lena but it turned out him and Adam had been friends since high school – an odd pair physically, but looks could definitely be deceiving, I realized, as I witnessed most of the conversation – along with all the typical male-ego-driven jibes and ribbing – went on between the two of them.

  “Do you get high, Gabby?” Lena knocked me out of my daydreaming, as I silently lusted over Ben and his gorgeous body which was resting an achingly twelve or so inches away from me on the sofa.

  I smiled and turned to Lena, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, holding out Patrick’s blunt for me to take a turn on.

  “Thanks,” I answered simply and took a long pull on the joint. Too long, I quickly realized, as I suddenly found myself assaulted by a minor coughing fit.

  Ben glanced over at me and took the joint away quickly. “Easy, girl...you almost as bad as Lena over there,” he teased me, and then turned back to his boys.

  “All right, here we go,” Adam announced suddenly, taking the blunt from Ben and settling in with the lap top, which was suddenly in sync with the TV on the wall.

  He cut the music and we all turned to focus on the footage that began playing across the screen. I realized it was some kind promotional video for the restaurant, scenes of Ben and his crew in the kitchen, customers dining at the tables, Ben at work plating his creations, scenic shots of the restaurant from the street, and interviews with some of the diners themselves – which was the best part – as Ben and Lena started putting in their two cents on which customers to scrap from the video.

  Then, suddenly, the screen focused in on Ben, a shot of him in his chef coat, leaning up against the counter in the restaurant kitchen, speaking to someone just out of camera-shot, who had obviously just posed a question to him. Then his voice. “Well, end of the day, to me, you come hungry, you leave happy. Pretension never filled anyone’s belly where I come from so the way I see it – art belongs on ya walls and food on ya plate.” His eyes turned to the camera. “Plain and simple. One love.” And the screen cut to black.

  There were a few moments of silence and and then Lena was the first to pipe up. “It should be our new motto. ‘No pretences – Just damn good food!’”

  Ben sucked his teeth at that, but then let out a little laugh. “That’s so fuckin’ corny…”

  “Well, you said it,” Lena shot back.

  Ben was still chuckling to himself. “You know what that was, right? Footage from the interview I did with dude from the Georgia Straight – that article they did on the restaurant.”

  My eyes went wide. “You were featured in the Georgia Straight?”

  Ben glanced at me. “Yeah, last month. He asked me somethin’ about what my take is on the whole avant garde dining trend poppin’ up all over the city...”

  “Oh, shit, that’s right,” Lena said, remembering. “They ran that quote in the article.”

  “I guess we can use it and piss off some more food writers from Yaletown,” Adam suggested.

  Ben sucked his teeth again. “Fuckin’ ask me where I store my liquid nitrogen…”

  They all laughed.

  I was confused. “Liquid nitrogen?”

  Ben glanced at me. “It’s just a joke. When I used to work at the Four Seasons they liked to pick on me ‘cause I was in charge of all the science projects…the traditionalists over here won’t ever let me live it own…and I mean, I don’t know, there is something to be said for mixing food and art, I get it and everything, but if you’d rather sit and stare at your plate of food for half an hour and discuss the symbolism behind it – I mean if you put the fucking space-needle on a plate down in front of me and told me it was a hamburger, that would impress the shit out of me but I’m not sure I’d want to eat it…” He gestured back at the TV screen. “See, I guess that was my point there but am not sure it come across that way…”

  Lena’s eyes popped open. “No way! I totally disagree...”

  Ben sighed and then leaned back on the couch. “It don’t work in this context, Lena – I should have just said, ‘Don’t worry if ya food looks like shit, it’ll still taste good.’”

  “Nah...” Adam piped up then. “I wouldn’t run that either…”

  Ben turned to me again. “What you think?”

  I smiled, flattered that he wanted my opinion. “I like it. Unpretentious has nothing to do with unappetizing. That’s like calling someone easy just because they’re approachable.”

  Ben kind of laughed. “Yeah, maybe...”

  “Well, we gotta get this shit up on the website soon, the festival’s less than a month away,” Patrick pointed out.

  The back and forth critique of the video footage continued for another ten minutes or so, but eventually it was time for business
and the set-up for the shoot in the kitchen was underway. Adam controlled the images from the lap top while Patrick got behind the camera, setting up a few tripods at two different angles and fidgeting with his hand-held, for what I guessed were all the close-up shots.

  I settled back with my glass of wine, still feeling some of the effect of the weed we’d smoked, as Ben got a big pot on one of the burners filled with water to boil, set a large skillet on another burner and then assembled his ingredients out on the kitchen island, next to the bowl of vegetables.

  “Lena, can you shut off my phone?” He looked over then, and nodded toward his blackberry, which was lying next to her glass of wine.

  That reminded me as well and I set mine to silent.

  “This gonna be a one-shot wonder again, man – or we in for multiple takes?” Adam asked from behind the screen, popping open a bottle of Heineken.

  “Nah, I think I got this one,” Ben said, setting up a mahogany cutting board and a scary-looking chef’s knife, along with a few other cooking utensils and setting them up strategically in different locations.

  When Adam called “Action”, Ben didn’t skip a beat, his voice coming out as smooth and sexy as always. “Hey, whassup people – it’s the Dreaded Fuzion comin’ back at ya again for another mouth-watering fill of what y’all been missin’ for a good month or so... and I’ll start out by expressing my sincerest apologies for that – to alla you who been blowin’ up the website and the youtube page, I wanna make sure y’all know it mean a lot, and much love to each and every one of you... Anyway, today we gonna keep it simple and go a little ‘Old World’ on alla you – I’m gonna show you a simple, easy, de-licious Italian pasta dish with a little Island twist...” He picked up a small pepper from the vegetable bowl on the table. “The Scotch Bonnet pepper. Brace yourselves ladies...” He gave a little wink at the camera, and I narrowed my eyes. He was such a flirt...