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The events of the past two weeks have tuckered me out. That’s fine because my dating life is on hiatus until Sandy deems otherwise. However, my daily celery intake has increased, so if and when a date materializes, I’ll be ready. I can’t stop thinking about Fabio, and more often Felix too, but my instincts can’t be trusted.
The publishing house’s sales are tanking. The cookbooks have been the only bright spot. I’m due a promotion and need to bring my A-game every day. Maybe I’ll even get to champion my own venture. Jodi occasionally mentions that we should collaborate on recipes from the Double S. A cookbook is an arduous project for someone philosophically opposed to cooking on general principle, but I’ve faked it this far, so maybe....
Ah ha! Jodi and I should create dog treats. If we can find a dozen Princess approved recipes, our publication would be a best seller. Sandy could partner with us. Princess and Snuggilicious would be celebrities and get their own product line. We could–
“Beverly, how goes Celery, the Unsung Kitchen Hero?” My boss stands at my desk awaiting a reply.
“Uh, Scott, hi. It’s great. I was, uh, concentrating. I don’t like to overlook a single detail.”
“Your work’s been outstanding.” He nods earnestly. “Dill Dos and Don’ts is next in the queue, but a higher-profile project has popped up that requires your skills.”
Dill Dos? I’m happy to pass on that. “Whatever the business needs, I’m up for it.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Are you familiar with Harley Johnson, a.k.a. The Big Man?”
“Yes, sir. He’s got that A Man’s Gotta Eat line of books and merchandise. Just a Man and His Steak and Just a Man and His Ribs have been top sellers for years.”
“He had a falling out with his publisher, and he’s bringing his business to us. This could be the project that puts us back in the black. I want you to handle him. His new project is Just a Man and His Balls, featuring prime meatballs. He’s hands-on with his projects, so you’ll need to be diplomatic. He’s stopping in on Monday.”
Just a Man and His Balls? Suddenly Dill Dos looks attractive. Oh well, Princess will enjoy sampling meatballs.
***
WEDNESDAY NIGHT, A blocked number rings on my cell phone. After the call goes to voice mail, I check for a message. “Good evening, Bev. Fabio here. I hope you enjoyed the flowers. I’d like to talk to you. Ciao.” With my eyes closed, I replay the message three times, relishing his baritone voice, before growing angry with myself and throwing the phone on the sofa.
That man’s voice seduces me, stirs something deep inside, and throws my brain off-kilter. Did Fabio realize we belong together, or is that fantastical thinking on my part? His behaviors have been strange, bordering on rude, but maybe he has social anxiety. Oh wait, that’s me. But oh, that attraction. The chemistry is palpable. No one can deny that.
Should I return his call? My fingers itch to pick up the phone, but Sandy’s words loop through my brain: Although I could phone a man on a Wednesday night, I could do so only if it’s been two days or more since his overture, or if I want to look desperate. Furthermore, I can’t make the call on a Thursday or Friday unless I act as though my weekend is already booked, but then I can’t go anywhere because if he sees me out and about, he’d realize I had nothing particularly interesting going on. Rationally, the earliest I can return Fabio’s call is next Monday. This strategy will keep me from looking anxious or needing to fib. Maybe Fabio will think he has to work harder to get me. If I can restrain myself, maybe he’ll call again.
Thursday and Friday, Celery, the Unsung Kitchen Hero e-book edition gets wrapped up and the hardback edition readied for a print run. I’ve noticed everyone who worked on this project eating more celery than ever before. My mind still wanders to Fabio, but more frequently to Felix.
This weekend, Jodi and Doug’s adult children are still in town. Sandy and Darren are taking a weekend getaway. Snuggilicious will hang out with Princess and me. My weekend’s overabundance of free time is on account of my not returning Fabio’s call and Darren’s co-worker failing Sandy’s screening interview. The leisurely weekend is a gift because I need to be rested for Harley Johnson’s project.
Princess, Snug, and I begin our Saturday at the dog park. The day is toasty, but a breeze from the north keeps us comfortable. The girls play with the other dogs, and after two hours in the bright sun, all three of us need a nap.
Back at home, I lay down on my bed. Demonstrating power in her compact terrier legs, Snuggilicious hurdles up to join me. Princess gasps, her mouth agape. Within seconds, Snug snores full throttle. Princess closes her mouth and stands guard. After a few minutes, she pads around the room, perhaps pondering her conundrum. Finally, she springs up to snuggle next to her canine BFF. It doesn’t happen immediately, but soon she’s snoring delicately, as only a true princess could do.
After our long nap, I send a text to my movie buds letting them know I won’t be joining them tonight. As much as I love a flick with sexy superheroes in tights, I sense Princess softening toward me, and I want to make the most of this opportunity.
After dinner, I prepare apple slices, carrots, and celery for us to share, then turn on the television. Snuggilicious doesn’t like Animal Planet, but she settles right in for Lady and the Tramp. They’re not ready to go to sleep after the movie, so I pop air popcorn, and we watch Snow Dogs. The dogs don’t sleep in my bed, but both give me good night nuzzles. It’s been a wonderful day, and I haven’t thought much about Fabio.
Sunday morning, we’re off to the dog park early because rain is expected after noon. The air is heavy, and between the moisture and the wind, my hair morphs into a frizzled, tangled mess. The sticky weather doesn’t deter the dogs, who have a ball.
“Which one is yours?” a kind, masculine voice asks.
I point to my squad. “That beautiful mocha brown girl. The cute shaggy terrier is her BFF.” I look up to find Felix on his bike. “Oh, my goodness. What a nice surprise.”
“Here,” he says, handing me a coffee. “I was at the Double S Cafe. The owner said you’d be here and asked me to bring this over. She bribed me with a muffin, but I’d have done it for free.”
“Well, thank you both. Isn’t it hard to ride with a hot drink?”
“I had it in my messenger bag.”
“This coffee is far superior to the mud I brewed earlier at home. Hey, you got any of that muffin left?”
Felix’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “No. I ate that right away, so I wouldn’t have to share.” I put my hands on my hips and make a pouty face. He says, “I could bring you some later.”
“Hmm. I’d like that, but we’re heading home soon. This weather zaps the energy right out of me.”
“What are you doing later?” he asks.
“Just hanging with the pups. A rainy day calls for a movie.”
“What movie?”
“I’m trying Best in Show, but if they don’t like that, I’ll try One Hundred and One Dalmatians, the animated version.”
“Classics. May I join you ladies? I’ll bring muffins.”
“When you put it that way...hell, yeah.” I give him my address and set a time before he rides off. I wonder if Princess and Snug will like him.
Felix knocks on my door at 2:30 p.m. He brings muffins and specialty dog treats from the Double S. Snuggilicious wags her tail madly, frenetically wriggling her entire body, and slobbers him with kisses. Princess watches Felix and Snug dote on each other before she promenades over to sniff Felix. He reaches to scratch behind her ear, but she backs away.
He asks me, “May I give her a treat?”
“Sure.” I’m curious to see how she’ll react.
Felix holds out a treat to Princess. She gives it a sniff, then a lick. She accepts it, gives it to Snug, and returns expectantly.
“Commendable manners,” Felix says, and holds out another biscuit. She evaluates the treat before accepting it.
“Wow. Either that biscuit is irresistible, or she likes you.”
“Maybe both,” Felix says hopefully.
“Now let’s eat the muffins. Would you like tea?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When I return from the kitchen with our teas and the muffins cut into halves, Felix sits on the sofa, and Snug sits on his feet. Princess watches from three feet away. Conversation feels forced, so I put on the movie Best in Show. Snug doesn’t respond to the movie. After a few minutes, Princess steps closer and shakes her head. I try One Hundred and One Dalmatians. Snug is mesmerized, and Princess relaxes, her hostessing responsibilities fulfilled.
“Is it my imagination, or did your dog select our movie?” he asks. I nod and smile. “Amazing.”
We stop the film at the halfway point to let the dogs out for a bio-break. Conversation flows easier now that we’re outside watching the dogs.
Princess nuzzles Snuggilicious’s ear. “I wonder what she’s whispering,” Felix says.
We get back inside and seated on the sofa. Princess jumps up to the left of Felix and Snug hops up to my right side.
Felix’s and my shoulders touch, and I say, “If it were possible, I’d think they were pushing us closer together.”
“Your pet is one smart and communicative canine.”
Even through two layers of fabric, his shoulder feels cozy and warm against mine. We watch the movie in companionable silence.
The minute the movie is over, the dogs leap from the sofa and trot toward the bedrooms, leaving Felix and me alone. Neither of us moves to separate. Felix wears a bashful smile. He says, “Would” as the doorbell rings. We stay still, but the doorbell rings again.
“Bev,” a familiar voice yells through the door, “we’re here to pick up Snuggilicious. We brought pizza and a surprise.”
Talk about timing. I scurry to open the door. Sandy and Darren stand, holding a pizza, next to a nice-looking man, also holding a pizza.
“He’s dessert.” Sandy murmurs in my ear, then tilts her head toward the man and walks inside yelling, “Snug, Mommy’s here. Oh”
The dogs run to us on the double. Snug prances a happy jig. Sandy crouches to hug her pet and looks at Felix, then at me, then at Darren, then at the dessert man. The only sounds are tails wagging and doggie feet jigging.
Darren recovers first. “We have plenty of pizza. Felix, nice to see you. Bev, we ran into Bennett picking up pizza and invited him to join us. Bennett, this is Sandy’s cousin, Bev.”
“Can I get anyone a beer?” I ask.
“Yes,” everyone exclaims. I escape to the kitchen.
Sandy follows me. “Oh, my goodness. I can’t believe this. I thought–”
“Take these.” I shove a six-pack and a pile of napkins into her hands. “I’m going to splash some water on my face and try to not freak out.”
I hightail it to my bedroom, shut the door, and throw myself backward onto my bed. Inhale–four, three, two, one. Exhale–four, three, two, one.
In the bathroom, I smooth my hair into a ponytail, splash water on my face, swish some mouthwash, and apply lip gloss. After I get a whiff of my stress sweat, I pull off my shirt, wipe my underarms with a washcloth, apply deodorant, obsess for twenty seconds over which clean shirt to wear, and pull on a form-fitting red T-shirt being careful not to mangle my ponytail.
Back in the kitchen, Sandy’s chopping celery.
I gasp. “What are you doing? This is not the time for anyone to be eating celery.”
Sandy furrows her eyebrows. “I wanted to make a salad to go with the pizza, but this is all you had in the fridge. Why would this be a bad time for anyone to eat celery?”
Darren pops into the kitchen. “Are we ready to eat?”
I slap another six-pack and some water bottles on the bar, along with paper plates and napkins. “We are now.” I walk around him into the living room. “Dinner is served.” Bennett and Felix stand.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m heading out. Maybe another time,” Felix says, lumbering to the door with Princess on his heels. “Nice seeing everyone.”
This isn’t good. I want to eat celery with this man. I hurry to the door to say something encouraging and clever. “Um, thank you for the muffins.” He smiles and gives a half-wave as he exits.
That was the best I could do? Princess catches my eye and shakes her head before shuffling toward the bedrooms, followed by Snug.
“It’s buffet style. Everybody, please help yourself.” We fill our plates and sit at the kitchen table. The pizza entices, and I take a bite. “Ooh, my favorite, mushroom and artichoke.”
“Really?” Bennett asks. “It’s a happy accident I ordered that combo tonight.”
“It’s true.” Sandy nods. “We ordered the half meat lovers and half veggie supreme.”
Mamma mia! This man and I share something significant. He’s pretty cute in a Ron Howard as a grown frat boy sort of way.
The rest of the evening goes well. Bennett turns out to be an old college buddy of Darren’s. I tell everyone about my upcoming assignment with Harley Johnson, a.k.a. The Big Man, without mentioning the cookbook’s title. Princess isn’t as enamored with Bennett as she was with Felix, but she doesn’t dislike him. I’m a bit smitten, or maybe it’s the beer and celery, but when he asks for my number, I give it gladly.
After he leaves, Sandy says, “I’m so sorry. I never in a million years–”
I hold up my hand. “Not to worry. Any other night of my life, that would have been an amazing surprise, and sadly, I mean any other night. As it turned out, he’s great. This is great. There haven’t been three men on mind simultaneously since college.”
“Three?” Darren asks. “Uh oh. Don’t disasters come in threes?”
“No minimum is ever required for my disasters.” I recap the week from Fabio’s call to the rendezvous at the dog park.
“You deserve love, but please keep your brain turned on. From my vantage point, you don’t seem to see the difference between fine wine and cheap beer,” Sandy says. “We need to get going.” Many hugs and kisses later, our guests depart, leaving Princess and me alone.