Fatal Attraction || COMPLETED!

21.

Farrah POV

8:03pm

There was nothing for me to be nervous about, but I was. I could barely keep still and bounced from one side of the kitchen to the other. The rice had finished boiling and I was straining it in the sink while trying to wash the last few dishes I messed up on the other side. I wasn't on call tonight, so I wasn't expecting any interruptions, but I still made sure my phone was glued to me. I kept it in the front right pocket of my black apron that was practically bran new because I barely cooked. And I'm sure my nonstick pots and pans were screaming in joy after finally being let out of the box. I opted for takeout most night if I ate anything. It was faster and less of a hassle to have food at my fingertips.

I pulled out my good china, not wanting to use paper plates, and positioned the hollowed-out pineapple halves on each other. I had found this jerk chicken and rice recipe online while I was at work simultaneously working on paperwork from the few cases I had closed over the last couple of days. I told a small lie that I was hoping to cook dinner for myself and Laney told me a good site that house new and fun recipes to try out. I had never eaten Caribbean food and I doubted if Michael had too. So, the old and bland chicken and broccoli alfredo dish was out.

I was covering the bottom layer of the pineapple with the drained white rice when someone knocked on the door and my phone rang. I knew one of the two had to be Michael. I wiped my hands on my apron and walked to the front door while pulling out my phone. I was answering Michael's call right as I was opening the door to see him on the other side. He was balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder and quickly dropped it in his hand, disconnecting the call.

He looked good. Some of his hair was pinned back, a few curls dripping in his face and then the rest falling to his shoulders. They brushed against the collar of his royal blue button-down that was covered with a tribal-patterned sweater. Black pants, as all ways, were his choice of pants and the same old black shoes were on his feet. I had a feeling he was following the 90s esthetic trend with the way he dressed because he dressed like it all the time except for when he was in his work uniform.

Michael was anything, but discreet as he looked me up and down, undressing me with his brown eyes. He looked at me under his long eyelashes a wolfish grin causing me to take a step back. The predatory smile turned into a demure one and my body relaxed under his gaze.

"Come in," I said holding the door with my hand and using the other to gesture inside my apartment. "Welcome to my humble abode..."

Michael looked around as if he had never been inside my place before when he knew good and damn well he hand. I smiled amusingly and shut the door behind him, locking it. He turned at the sound of the lock with one brow raised. I raised mine in response before lightly brushing past him and going into the kitchen. He followed me and I went back to plating our dinner for the night.

"What? No flowers? Wine? A gift?" I looked at him through the corner of my eye as I used a fork to spread the rice out evenly in the pineapple. I moved to adding the still-hot jerk chicken on top. Michael had his hands in his pockets and was leaning against my counter right in front of the sink. His ankles were crossed which made him looked somewhat relaxed.

"Girl," his laughter was contagious, and it made me smile. "Bills were paid this month, so my presence is gonna have to be a big enough gift."

I had just topped our meals with a pineapple salsa I made last minute, wanting to garnish the food with more than the usual dash of parsley. Michael's brows furrowed as he pushed off the sink and came over next to me, looking down at our meals though he didn't look disgusted. Intrigued would be the correct word. I picked up the rag next to the left plate and wiped at my hands as I looked at him, taking a half step back.