Page 27 of Betting on Lizzie

“Red wine’s good for your heart,” Lizzie offered.

He harrumphed. “Pass the bottle then.”

Lizzie looked at her mother, who gave a subtle nod, before passing down the Merlot.

Later that weekend, Maya texted Lizzie to ask if she could interview her for a school project about women entrepreneurs. She said she’d been grounded over the party incident and couldn’t go out, so she asked that Lizzie come over on Monday evening. Lizzie only agreed after Maya assured her that her dad would be working in Charlotte, and they would have the house to themselves.

Good. Because the last thing Lizzie wanted was another run-in with the stoic, brown-eyed fire inspector. It had been a week and a half since she’d seen him in the emergency department, but the irritation over discovering his relationship with Maya still lingered. He hadn’t lied necessarily, but he’d withheld information, and that was as good as.

On Monday, Lizzie took a long walk with Charlie and shopped online for Christmas presents. Maya’s condo was only a few buildings over. It seemed silly to drive so short a distance, so she walked.

She knocked and was surprised when Ben answered.

“You,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Maya asked me to come over.”

“For?”

“I don’t know. I guess she has to interview someone in business for school or something.”

“Oh. She didn’t mention it. Come on in, I guess.” He backed away. “I’ll get her.”

Lizzie was tempted to turn around and go home but didn’t want to leave Maya hanging. She followed him in and shut the door as he disappeared down the hall. The place was nice. A lot like her condo actually. It faced the water, had large windows on the river side, and a balcony. She walked to the slider to check out his view. A cute little beagle waddled over to sniff her feet.

“Hey, buddy,” she said, bending to pet him. “You’re a cutie.”

She stood and looked around. The open floor plan allowed her to see the living room, dining area, and kitchen. Ben appeared to be a neat freak. The only thing out of place was a pair of pink and white tennis shoes lying by the couch. The table was set for two, and her mouth watered at the scent of spicy onions and melted cheese. It smelled like enchiladas—her favorite.

Ben returned wearing an irritated expression and holding a Post-it.

“What?” Lizzie asked.

He held out the note.

Enjoy dinner with Lizzie. I’ll be back late. She’d signed it with a winky face.

“I wondered why she was cooking,” he said, sighing. “And that explains the two wine glasses on the counter. I don’t think she needs to interview you.”

“She’s trying to set us up?”

He shrugged. “She’s on this new kick, supposing I’ll die alone if I don’t find someone forthwith.”

“Not too smooth with the ladies?” Lizzie asked. “Huh. Hard to believe.”

He ignored the dig. “I’m sorry about this. I will talk to her, and she will apologize.”

A timer dinged, and he excused himself to take out whatever was in the oven. The scent pulled her into the kitchen just as he plopped the cheese-covered dish onto the stovetop. “She’s supposed to be grounded. I’m gonna kill her.”

The same thought crossed Lizzie’s mind. “Don’t be too hard on her,” she said instead. “Teenagers are difficult. Teenage girls are the worst. I know, I was one.”

“I know she’s got you thinking I’m some hard-nosed Neanderthal, but I assure you, I am not. Stern lectures are about as tough as I get. Although, I can make those pretty painful when I want to.”

Lizzie couldn’t help but choke out a laugh. “Why does she think you’re going to die alone?”

He sighed. “Oh…uh…that’s a long story. Look, we might as well take advantage. This looks like my mom’s chicken enchilada recipe, and if Maya did it any justice, it’ll be delicious.”

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