“Perfect, because I’m dying to godmother the shit out of her. I’ll be Auntie Win, and I can stock up on all the Hello Kitty and princess stuff I can get my hands on.” Winnie loved fashion, which translated to her upscale pet boutique, but I could see her trying to market high-end baby gear if she could.
We chuckled and walked into the home economics classroom at the high school, taking our seats behind tall desks made for crafting and cooking.
“I can’t believe how lucky we are that Taylor suggested this cooking class, and even better that Carmen is teaching it.” I put my purse down on the seat next to us.
It was a holiday miracle between Thanksgiving and Christmas I hadn’t burned the house down. I knew Evan wasn’t looking to remodel the kitchen right now, so I’d limited my cooking to the few things I’d mastered under Taylor’s strict FaceTime supervision. I couldn’t have her living in my pantry despite the desire to win the lottery and pay her to come over. So, I had to stick with what I knew.
Luckily, Evan didn’t mind a lot of chicken and pasta because I suck at cooking rice. I was pretty sure there was a rice cooker with my name on it under the Christmas tree, and it was sweet that Evan thought he might be able to change the inevitable.
Who burns rice? Apparently, rice and I didn’t mix.
“I know, it was like someone magically knew that this would be the perfect thing. I know Chase doesn’t say it, but I’m an awful cook except for rice. Must be ingrained in my Asian DNA.” She air-quoted before chuffing into a peal of laughter that had half the class giving us the stink eyes. Winnie was half Japanese and thought all jokes related to cooking were hilarious. I assumed some of the women in here were pretty serious about cooking even though this was a beginner course. It was designed at teaching us how to make a full dinner menu by the end of the session that we could take home and eat. I was mostly looking forward to feeding my husband something edible and not terrifying.
“Nice, Winnie. I’m just glad the class hadn’t sold out when we registered. It’ll be nice to learn something new and not burn anymore pots.”
“I’m pretty sure Chase is going to hire Hunter to redo the kitchen, and I’d like to preserve said kitchen for a long time,” Winnie said, rolling her eyes.
“Hello, ladies!” A young man walked into the classroom, clapping his hands excitedly and taking off his wool jacket. He looked like a beefed-up version of that famous celebrity chef I watched on TV while I folded laundry. Olive skin and broad shoulders that stretched his T-shirt taught across his chest. His face sported a trimmed beard and hair tied up on his head in a bun. Tattoos wrapped around his biceps, and I shared a bug-eyed look with Winnie.
“Holy crap,” I whispered to her.
“Seriously. Girl, get me a fire extinguisher because it is hot in here.” Winnie waved herself off dramatically.
“Who is this guy?” I checked my phone for our email registration because Taylor’s college bestie and bakery owner was supposed to be our teacher. Definitely not this guy, looking like he stepped off the pages of a hipster model magazine.
“So, where are my cooking virgins? Don’t be shy. Raise those hands, ladies.” Hot chef winked at us, practically flexing his pecs under his T-shirt. He wore scrub pants in gray striping like a chef might, except they looked barely legal hanging on his hips. Was he going commando? I couldn’t tell and I shook my head to get rid of the image.
“Um, I have a question. I thought Carmen Malone was our teacher.”
“Oh, yes, Miss Carmen has the flu. So you are stuck me, Federico.” He smiled brightly and went about the room, handing out aprons and helping the ladies in our class tie them on. It was a little odd and when he gave us our aprons, I swore he tied mine a little snug, tugging on the back so I was bumped against him.
“Ah, good, nice and tight, yeah?” His words were whispered against my neck, and I shivered with a chill that bordered on hot creepy depending on how one might view the awkwardness of the situation.
“Um, yeah.” I winced and stepped away. Winnie was quicker and had hers tied on before he could reach her.
“So tonight, my beautiful doves, we shall cook coq au vin.”
Winnie leaned into me and whispered, “Did he just say cock?”
“Cock with something,” I whispered back behind my hand as Federico gave the class instructions in his over-the-top, flirtatious manner.
“Do you think we’ll get kicked out before class is over?” Winnie said from behind her hand.
I shrugged. “He’s passing out bottles of wine. Let’s hope we don’t set the place on fire with a Molotov cocktail.”
“Good point. Last time I made dinner for Chase, I practically summoned a demon, so what could possible go wrong under supervision?”
Yes, what could go wrong, indeed?
Winnie thanked him for the ingredients as we both worked together to cook something halfway presentable.
The good news was that with so many eyes in the kitchen, we didn’t burn anything, but Federico did come over quite a bit to supervise with his roaming eyes. Good thing he kept his hands on his hips, except when he stood behind me and wrapped his fingers around mine, which had been stirring the pot. Holy awkward. I made a coughing sound and he let go, stepping back. I was about to say something to him, but he’d already moved on to the next pair of ladies cooking. Winnie gave me a shrug and we let it go in an unspoken look between us.
Class finally ended and we walked together to our cars and drove home with our Tupperware containers of dinner. I couldn’t decide if our teacher was putting the moves on us or if he was just that way, a little odd and lacking in boundaries. I’d never had an awkward encounter like that before except at the bar when I worked there serving drinks, but David and Andy were always there to run interference. I never felt unsafe, just weird.
All I knew was that Evan ate dinner with a smile right up until I told him about the finer details of cooking with Federico…
My husband quietly and meticulously worked on his portion, cutting each piece with precision as he then put it into his mouth. He made the appropriate sounds of approval and thanked me with a kiss. He then folded his hands over his flat stomach with a strange expression on his face. He asked me if I liked the class and if it was helpful before grunting some intelligible comment about handsy teachers getting their asses kicked. It was sweet but unnecessary, which I told him repeatedly as he led me from the table and right into the bedroom.
Dinner was followed by a thorough lesson on dessert. If I wasn’t pregnant before this, I should be by now.
5
Evan
“I can’t believe this is happening.” I slapped my hand on the table, making the salt and pepper shakers topple, cursing as I did it. I righted them before pushing them back against the wall, frustrated with Remi’s retelling of the class experience.
That fucking-fucker-cooking-cocksucker.
“If I’m not mistaken, it was your idea to sign them up for cooking classes.” Chase took the salt shaker and put a tiny bit in his hand before tossing it over his right shoulder for luck. I was going to need more than luck if I was going to get our ladies out of this mess I didn’t want to own up to.