Chapter 9

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"They won't open. Not while he's here. Trust me on this," I hear next to me as I give another fruitless shove to the iron gate before me.

I suppose I'm not surprised. Did I really think he would sense my presence and welcome me with open arms?

Maybe? Obviously not.

I had an awful lot of time to think during the rest of my solitary journey. I memorized my speech and practiced it out loud, much to the amusement of the people I encountered along the path. I even rehearsed my facial expressions and hand movements to emphasize my words and I really think I have it down.

Now, I'm stuck behind a gate, looking up to assess how difficult it would be to climb.

"Yeah, not gonna happen. You get to the top and something zaps your ass and then you go flying through the air. It's not pleasant," he says, and I turn to look at my chef friend.

He's leaning his thin frame against the intricately formed bars of the gate, his arms crossed in front of his chest and he has an odd expression gracing his thin face.

"Why would you even want to come here again?" he asks before he straightens. "Unless...you like him too. Is that it?"

"No!" I respond maybe a bit too forcefully.

"Hey! Don't overcompensate for my benefit. Your cheeks are flushed, by the way," he comments wryly before pushing from the structure.

"Come on, I'll feed you and you can wait until leaves," he says as he walks past me toward the path.

I don't hesitate in following him. Ever since I've been in the general vicinity of his home, the aroma of something that smells divine has wafted around me.

Minutes later and I realize the smell didn't do the taste justice. It's incredible, this dish he has created. The large mushroom cap resembles the most tender filet with a delicate blend of herbs that weren't available to him before, he says as I shovel it in my mouth.

"I want to ask you a favor," I say between bites.

"What?"

"You don't have to say yes. I won't be offended," I add.

"Sure. Ok, what?" he responds.

I take another bite because I can't seem to get the words out. I am the absolute worst at this...

"Liz! What?" he barks, and my eyes fly to his as I chew.

"Would you be willing to cater a wedding?" I ask with a full mouth.

"I'm sorry, did you just ask me to cook for a wedding?" he responds, and I nod vigorously before swallowing.

"Whose wedding? Oh my god," he gasps. "You're gonna ask ole' Kritty to marry you? Is that what you're doing here?" His eyes are huge in his skinny head.

"Noooo, ugh. Not...no," I finish with an exasperated shake of my head. "Ava and Woody. That's what I'm doing here. I got suckered into asking Krit to officiate and I'm asking you if you'll cook for the reception."

"Really? You want me to cook?" he asks, and he seems surprised.

"Well, of course. You're the best cook here. Especially if you make this. You'll knock their socks off," I reply honestly.

"I would be honored," he answers in probably the most serious tone I've heard from him yet.

"That's great! It's going to be the best party ever," I gush enthusiastically. "We're going to have flowers and music and beer...well, if I can get everyone on board..." I amend more to myself.

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