A Lick and a Promise

Corrie walked into the kitchen. “Anya says her dinner is going to die an unnatural death if we don’t go up to her place in five.”

Margot frowned. “Okay. You guys go. Daniel and I will finish up the pizzas and bring them in ten.”

Corrie nodded, but her gaze stayed on Daniel. “So what do you think?”

“About what?”

“Us. This. Margot.”

“It’s interesting. Not at all like Greenwich.”

“That’s a pretty big jump,” Margot said as she spread pepperoni. “Why Chelsea?”

“I was ready for a change. Something big.”

“Why?”

He shook his head. “You don’t give up, do you?”

Margot stopped. Looked him right in the eyes. “Not until I get what I want.”

Daniel’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I see.”

She smiled. She still didn’t know why he’d moved to Chelsea, but she did know for certain why he’d moved to this building. To meet her, that’s why. To become an adventure. A challenge. He might have been ready for something big, but she had the feeling he had no idea just how big the change was going to be.

“Well, I’ll just see you two upstairs,” Corrie said. She touched Daniel on the upper arm. “Don’t be scared,” she said, her voice gentle and calming. “She won’t hurt you.”

Daniel put down the rolling pin. “I’m not so sure.”

Corrie laughed as she headed for the others.

Margot added the toppings to the first pizza, then stepped back. “Get creative, Daniel. Make this the best pizza you’ve ever had.”

He looked at her in that way of his, as if he was trying to see underneath her mask to the alien life-form underneath. “Well, that wouldn’t involve pineapple and ham.”

She leaned against the counter to watch him. And as she suspected, he went traditional. Tomato sauce, oregano, garlic, sausage and mozzarella. With all the fresh, tasty surprises she’d spread out before him, he’d gone for the white bread. The mayo. As she saw it, she had a duty to step in. To introduce this man to the cornucopia of treats all around him. He lived in New York, for heaven’s sake, the melting pot of the world, where one could get anything, anywhere, anytime. The hell with contact lenses, he needed to expand his frame of reference, to step out of the box he’d built around his life.

She had no idea about his architecture, but she’d be willing to bet her new job that it was as constricted and narrow as his pizza.

What she wasn’t sure about was if he was willing to truly open his eyes, but so far, she had a good feeling about it. Hell, he’d put up with her weirdness, and she’d caused more than one man to leave skid marks on their mad dash out of her life.

He stepped back, eyed his creation. Then he reached for the basil.

Her heart swelled as he tore it into bits and sprinkled it over the cheese.

When he was finished, he turned to her, his eager smile proud, yet a little unsure.

She nodded. “Very, very nice.”

“Fresh basil, huh?”

“One of nature’s incredible wonders,” she said, moving toward him. “And there’s more.”

His smile faltered the closer she got, but he stood his ground.

“There’s rosemary and marjoram. Dill and lemon-grass. All of them fragrant, some of them spicy. Meant to be tasted. Savored.”

He swallowed again, and she couldn’t blame him. She’d totally invaded his personal space. In fact, she was so near him she could smell the hint of his cologne, feel the heat of his breath on her cheek.

“You ready?” she asked.

“For what?” His voice was just above a whisper.

“Adventure. Excitement. Derring-do.”

He blinked again. It was incredibly endearing and she wanted to lick his chin like a cat. “Sure.”

“Okay then,” she said. “Let’s get those pizzas on the grill.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

She sighed with happiness, then turned to the counter again. “Thank you,” she whispered, to whoever was responsible.

He didn’t move at all as she took the laden boards and left the kitchen. Hopefully, he’d join her. He wouldn’t bolt, even though she’d left him the opportunity. She focused on her job, getting the food on the grill.

She didn’t even look up when she heard the sliding-glass door open. She simply smiled.

4

DANIEL STOOD ON THE PATIO wondering what the hell he was doing there. Not the patio per se, but this situation, with Margot, grilling pizza. It was an experience that on the face of it shouldn’t be bizarre, but it was. She was…

He didn’t have a clue what or who she was. Different didn’t say nearly enough. He’d never met anyone like her. Not even close.

The way she spoke. It was like being in a Quentin Tarantino film, sans the violence. He had absolutely no idea what would come out of her mouth next, and he couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that had happened to him. There was a rhythm to the conversations of his life, a logic. With her, there was nothing to hold on to.

“So, tell me more,” she said.

“More about what?”

“You. Brothers, sisters, parents, friends. The entire scoop, please, leave nothing out.”

He laughed. “It would put you to sleep, and you have to watch the grill.”

“Try me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, then moved to the far end of her patio to look over the edge. It would have been utterly appropriate if there had been an endless chasm below, but instead it was just the street with packed-in cars on both sides. “Well, my parents live in Port Washington.”

“Ah, Long Island.”