When Jack finally had her right side up, he relaxed against the headboard with Keila on his lap and her throbbing bottom getting relief because of the angle he held her in. She was pretty much cradled, with her hands nestled between their bodies.
That first part, the one she was happy to never visit it again, was intense and awful, but snuggling up with Jack on her bed, that part was something Keila could see herself doing again and again.
Putting that memory behind her, Keila went into Jack's kitchen to start her prep. She knew he wouldn't be upset by her being in his place instead of her own; it was why he'd given her the keys, but she also knew she needed to be a slightly downgraded version of her usual kitchen-tornado self.
First, she pulled down all of her mixing bowls, pots, strainer, pans, and measuring cups/spoons, and covered one of the counters. Then she wiped down the island so she could generously flour the surface to roll out her pasta dough. Not enough flour was a huge flaw the first time she'd attempted this little feat. The counter space closest to the stove was reserved for all things braciole. Getting the meat started first was important, since it took the longest, and even though she was feeling more confident about the gnocchi, she didn't want it sitting around drying up and getting dense on her.
Keila put on a little Beyoncé. She loved Jack's sound system. He had speakers built into all the rooms, and once you plugged into his system, you could command any playlist and fill the house with the noise (his words not hers) of your choice. He had offered to have the same done for her, but at the time, it didn't feel right to squeeze him for extra luxuries. A few dance moves later, she had on her meat handling gloves and was ready to pound that steak into submission. Jack loved to tease her about her aversion to touching raw meat. He didn't see what the big deal was when you could simply wash your hands when you were done, but Keila said it grossed her out and made her feel like she was massaging dead old people skin. Jack wanted to know how many dead old people she had massaged in her past.
Once the meat was beat to a thinness of her liking, she disposed of her gloves and prepared her stuffing of breadcrumbs, fresh herbs, and three kinds of cheese. If this was going to be a treat, she wanted to commit to it. Removing the top plastic wrap and putting on new gloves, Keila commenced with stuffing and patting down. She kept taking a peek at her recipe pictures to make sure she was doing it right. Besides the meat being like shoe leather the first time, she'd also lost most of her filling. She was being so careful; she used the butcher twine and toothpicks to secure her parcels. Luckily, she had dedicated her Wednesday night to her sauce, and it was already in her pan creating a nice sauce bath for what better be a perfect braciole.
Even though cleaning as she went was against her inherent nature, Keila didn't want the night to start with her in Jack's crosshairs because of a messy kitchen. So, steak fixings aside, she turned to her mixing bowls to begin her two batches of dough. First up, was the plain ricotta; she must've looked at her recipe for each ingredient. Then she did her spinach batch. After covering the island in half a bag of AP flour, she emptied her bowl and commenced to rolling. No gloves for this. Every video she watched said you had to feel that the dough was coming together right, so no latex barriers. Covering them with plastic wrap, Keila felt the urge to peek in on her meat but stopped herself. Jack scolded her repeatedly on the purpose of the timer and that every time she opened the oven, she brought the temperature down. Now was a good time for cleaning and a distraction phone call to Brianna.
"Hey, sissy, I'm getting dressed to meet Michael, and you know I'm already ten minutes late."
"Hi, Bri. Where are guys headed tonight?"
"Some boutique gallery opening for a friend of his and, apparently, we can't miss it."
"I sure hope that's not the attitude you plan on showing up with and late to boot."
"Did you call to harass me? Or, do you want something? Oh, your big dinner is tonight. How'd it go this time? You should be able to audition for Master Chef with it at this point. You've practiced it so much."
"Everything is doing what it should. Jack should be here in a little while and I'm doing my best to put his kitchen back the way I found it."
"You don't clean that good. Sorry to be the one to break the news."
"Funny girl. Let's see how many jokes you have when you show up late."
"Okay, okay, truce. How's the rest of your seduction plan going? I mean, I know things went sideways the last time. My fault. I thought Jack and Michael were truly cut from the same cloth."
"No, that was on me. I'm starting to think this is all my fault. I acted like a scared little girl when he met me and, obviously, I haven't done enough to change the way he sees me. I'm telling you, though, one more forehead kiss and I swear I might seriously go postal on him. Poor guy won't know what hit him, but it'll be me."
"Easy, warrior princess. More flies with honey and all that. Subtle might not work. I know how much you hate a direct conversation, but you might just have to say, 'Jack, we need to change our arrangement.' I bet if he thinks you're going to start sleeping with other guys or you leave a picture around of 'Professor Hottie,' he'll be a real willing participant."
"This is your advice. Slut it up to make him jealous?"
"Oh, no, that was not and is not my first advice. My first advice, little sister, is to grow up and have that courageous conversation. As long as he sees you as a kid and keeps calling you one, you will never get him in your bed."
"I know you're right, in my head. My stomach, my nervous system, my heart, and all my other inside parts are struggling, though. Okay, I'm letting you go. The longer we talk, the more valid your excuse to Michael will be that you're late because of me. I love you. Be safe."
"I love you. Be wild and do all the things!"
Keila could hear the wild cackling in the distance as the call was disconnected.
Four
Jack
The smell hit him as soon as he stepped off of the elevator. Jack couldn't remember a time when he had come home and someone on their floor was cooking something so enticing that the scents floated all the way to the elevator. From what he could smell, someone had gone all out on a Friday night. Considering there were mostly professional couples and college athletes in the building, the clientele leaned more toward takeout and delivery. It didn't matter. Perhaps someone was having company or getting ready for a party. One thing was for sure; he knew what he wanted for dinner now. As soon as he showered, he would pick up his Kid and they were going for Italian.
Damn it. It was his neighbors cooking like that. Putting the key in the door, Jack was temporarily stunned and confused. First, there was music coming from every corner of his apartment and, secondly, the delicious smells he'd been envying for the last hundred and fifty steps were also coming from his apartment.
"Keila? Kid, if you left all of this on and aren't here—"
"Of course, I'm here. Don't get all growly on me as soon as you walk in the door!"
"This smells like you're buttering me up for something."
Jack was smiling, but he was also searching her eyes for a clue.
"Just a hug," Keila answered sweetly and looked up at him in the most innocent way she could muster. Sure, she wanted a hug, preferably a naked one, eventually, but he didn't need to deal with all that now.
It was the one thing they both had been looking forward to all day. Jack dropped his keys in the bowl and his bags at his feet. Keila practically climbed him in her bare feet. Jack held her close and took in all that made the tiny blessing in his arms possible. Even when she was being her most stubborn and contrary, Jack was in awe of Keila. He slid her back down his body but continued to hold on.
"So, to what do I owe this fabulous surprise? What am I smelling that is so delicious? I'm guessing it's not takeout."
"Take out, after you've been gone so long, um, no way. Come on. I'll show you."
Taking the lead, Keila pulled on his hand and, of course, he went without a fight.
If he put even a miniscule amount of resistance effort in, she wouldn't have been able to move him an inch. When they got closer to the center of the living room and his line of sight was clear into the kitchen, she suddenly spun him around. It was so unexpected, Jack braced his hands on her forearms and looked down at her like she had gone a little crazy.
"Why am I getting the doom along with the surprise feeling? Whatever it is will be easier if you tell me than if I find out on my own."
Keila reached up and put her hands on either side of his face and gazed up into his eyes.
"Now, Jack, you have to focus on the positive and trust me that it's nothing bad. I was just going to explain that contrary to what you see, I really have been cleaning as I go. Who knew 'from scratch' could be so messy? Oy vey!"
Jack removed her hands from his cheeks and kissed each palm. He figured when he turned around, he would be in for at least a half night's worth of work putting his kitchen back together. This time, he took the lead and pulled her in front of him and gently frog-marched her toward the kitchen and those magnificent smells.
"Keila? What is all of this?"
It wasn't even close to the disaster he was expecting, but he could absolutely see that whatever smelled so good had taken more than a considerable amount of effort. His baby girl had put in work for him, and despite the flour covering the black granite surfaces and the sink that he could see filled to overflow, Jack could feel the smile spreading across his face.
"Not too bad, right? See, you think I don't listen to you or remember all of the things you teach me, but I do. So, now are you ready to enjoy your surprise?"
Jack wrapped her in his arms. Keila leaned in with her head against his heart. They stayed that way for a few moments, Keila saying a silent prayer that she could convince him to move their relationship in a new direction—the next direction.
"If you don't let me go, the surprise will be ruined for sure. Go get cleaned up for dinner. Everything will be set by the time you get out of the shower."
"Someone got bossy while I've been gone." Jack still hadn't let her go, but his hold was more relaxed as Keila leaned back and looked up at him.
"Just a tiny bit, but only for the sake of my surprise."
"Okay, Kid, I'm going. This better be good."
Kissing her on the forehead, Jack finally fully released his hold. As he made his way back to his bedroom, he stole a glance at her across the room. She had turned back to her dishes and various piles, dancing to the music that was clearly still playing in her head since he'd silenced that noise she called music, and started working. He was a goner. He'd been aware of that useless feeling for a long time now, but this was all so domestic, so normal, so right, he couldn't bear the thought of it disappearing. He was a man of his word, though. He wouldn't change their dynamic, one she confessed to needing and wanting, because his hormones were raging like a pubescent boy.
It didn't feel like he spent too much time in the shower, but he had taken the time to settle his libido and do some extra grooming. He loved his facial hair, but tried not to ever let it get out of control. Flying international overnight was exactly the thing that could do that to him. He'd have to speak to Michael later in the night, but right at the moment, his focus was a hundred percent on the little lady in the kitchen. Jack slipped on a comfortable pair of his Calvin Klein microfiber lounge pants and a fitted black and grey Henley. Since, for a change, they were at his place and not hers, Jack got more relaxed than his usual jeans and a t-shirt or sweatshirt. He even left his feet bare. He'd been in nothing but dress oxfords for a week and appreciated the feel of the thick carpet beneath his feet.
When he opened his bedroom door, he could see and sense the change in the atmosphere. The delicious smell of whatever Keila had prepared was now intermingled with the subtle fragrance of warm vanilla sugar from the candles she'd picked up for him a long time ago. The lights were out in the open space, except the ones over the sink and stove and what bled out of his bedroom. He didn't know if she had dashed across the hall to change or if she'd used the half bath off the foyer, but Keila had taken off her cut-off shorts and replaced them with a simple red and white polka dot one piece short set. She'd called it a romper when she described it, after one of her shopping days with Brianna. Why he remembered that at this moment was beyond him. There were far too many other things to focus on right now. Things like the impeccable table set on his rarely used dining table. Usually, Jack had to press Keila to sit at the table, as she preferred sitting on the floor in front of his coffee table or hers between Jack's legs, at his feet, while he sat on the couch with his plate in his hands. He was perfectly comfortable, too. She was close, and his bachelor days, after Julia, were filled with meals on the couch in front of the television. Tonight, was special, though, and there wouldn't be any couch or floor sitting.
"It's going to be really hard to enjoy all of this from all the way over there."
"I'm just— Wow, I'm blown away. I mean, sure, it smelled amazing and I didn't see any sauce on the ceiling, but how long was I in the shower? When did you get all this done?"
"I'm not a witch or anything. I just planned ahead. Now, come on, please. It took a lot of work to learn to get this right and I can't be sure of the results if it's left to get cold."
"I'm all yours, Kid. Come and sit."
When she went to the other end of the table, Jack was at her side in a single move and brought her to sit to his left.
"This is why you get a round table, Jack."
"This is why I'm in charge, Keila. Besides, I've been missing you too much to have you even that far away. Now, I'm more than ready for my surprise."
Her eyes lit up, and Keila was back on her feet removing lids with a flourish and naming the dishes as she went. Jack sat in awe. He couldn't believe the young, skittish college girl he taught to make French toast a short while ago had mastered some of his favorite dishes, and from scratch. Jack supposed he should applaud, or at least say something endearing and sweet, but he was truly at a loss for words. Thinking of the time she must have spent learning how to make the dishes and then to execute it as a surprise, he was stunned. He hadn't been on the receiving end of this much directed care in more than a decade.
Five
Keila
She was so caught up in her own enthusiasm and explanations that when she finally stopped, she realized that Jack hadn't said a word. He was staring at her like he didn't understand a word she'd been saying. Did she get it wrong? Could he tell that she'd messed up before he even tasted it?
"What did I do wrong? Jack?"
It took another moment too long before he realized that Keila was standing there watching him with her eyes getting a little full. He could see it building and that got him off of his ass in a shot.
"Oh, my sweet Kid. You did amazing. I can't believe it. I am completely stunned. Blown away even. You made homemade ricotta gnocchi. When did you have time to learn all of this? If this tastes half as good as it looks and has even the tiniest fraction of your passion in it, I know it's going to be phenomenal."
Jack threw his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap. "This is one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me."
"Oh, my goodness, you scared me. You weren't saying anything. I thought you saw a disaster before you even tasted it. Don't do that."
Keila buried her head in his neck. She didn't expect to be so emotional, but there she was, sitting on Jack's lap sobbing like a ten-year-old whose gift was rejected.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Jack asked over her head. Keila was speaking into his neck and not his ear, so her last few words were lost on him.
"Can we stop talking and just eat, please?"
"Of course, honey. I really am so wowed by this, Keila. I want to hear all about every step and everything else that's been going on with you while I've been gone."
At first, all she could do was steal peeks as Jack ate. Keila could hardly swallow her own meager helping. He
seemed to mean what he said about it and he was eating like he enjoyed it, but her confidence was shaken. Jack handled it the way he did everything, with surety. In essence, he told her to knock off the whining and eat the delicious meal she had prepared. She called him mean, and he told her he could show her mean. That made her give him a more cautious side glance and pick up her fork with a bit more gusto. They relaxed and laughed, and it was the mellowest Keila had been in weeks. After chatting through a second helping of food, Keila realized that Jack hadn't said much at all and was also on his second helping.
"It looks like tomorrow is going to require an additional mile on my run. But, FYI, I don't care. Any chance you made dessert?"
"Dessert, Jack? I used every bit of skill and focus to do this," Keila answered while fanning her hands across the table.
"That look tells me there's more to your answer than you're letting on. What's going on, Kid?"
"Maybe I do have one more little surprise up my sleeve."
"You don't have any sleeves, missy, so where is it?"
"Give me a second." Keila went into the kitchen and peeked at him over her shoulder before she bent down to get something from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.
Jack started laughing as soon as she pulled away from the fridge and let the door close behind her.
"Where in the world did you find mini a cloche? I'm sure, even I didn't have one of those hiding in my cabinets."
"No, you absolutely did not, but I saw it at the bakery and thought it added flair."
"Okay, it was unexpected; that's for sure. Now, come here so I can remove the lid."
Keila went over to sit it in front of the man she was falling more and more in love with and tried to remain focused on the task at hand. Jack took the covered dish from her and placed it in front of him and her back on his lap. He made quite a big deal about the reveal in an attempt to make up for not being quick enough with his praise and gratitude when the meal was revealed.
The Girl in Apartment 1203 Page 4