Page 28 of The Kitchen Contract

I must not look very happy because she laughs and nudges my shoulder. “It’s not a bad thing. I’m glad he’s trying something new and growing, whatever direction that takes. He’s been kind of a loner since he moved to Nashville. I keep hoping he’ll make some friends and get a nice girl, but he mostly just works out and hangs out at home or with us.”

I can’t really say much about that since she just described my life, minus the working out part. “I don’t know about any of that, but he’s done a great job on the show,” I say matter-of-factly. “I’m glad to be working with him.” That sounded nice and professional, right?

I’m saved from any further discussion of this topic by a wave of water crashing over us as the boys’ rough-housing migrates to our side of the pool.

“Chris, control your children,” Maddy scolds as she shakes water off of her sunglasses. “Can’t a mom stand here and chat for five minutes without being drowned?” she grumbles.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Annie announces as she climbs the steps out of the pool. “I think I’m going to go see if ‘Alex the Chef’ will grant me early access to any of his food.”

I frown after her as she waddles away, a towel wrapped around her expansive middle. I wish they’d stop making jokes about Alex. They seem to treat him almost like a child. The Alex I know is a good guy and deserves their respect.

“You okay?” Maddy’s question jerks me back to the moment.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I smooth out my features and smile, reaching for a change of subject. “When is Annie due?”

It works, and we chat about the kids for a few minutes until an obnoxiously loud and tinny clanging sound fills the air.

Alex stands by the pool, and I quickly ascertain that the phone in his hand is the source of the awful noise.

“What is that?” I shout over the racket.

“A dinner bell app,” he shouts back. “The food is all ready, so come and get it.”

“Not until you turn that thing off,” Maddy demands, her hand over Ileigh’s ear.

He taps his screen and the backyard goes quiet. Ears ringing, I climb out of the pool and flick him with water. “Please never play that sound again.”

He grins. “It got everyone’s attention, so it did exactly what I wanted it to do.”

“You couldn’t think of any other way to get our attention?” I wrap a towel around my waist and turn to face him. “Like just saying, ‘Time to eat, everyone?’”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He falls in step beside me as I walk toward the patio behind the kids, who took off without bothering with towels. Chris and Maddy linger behind us by the chairs, drying off and laughing softly together.

“I’m excited for this dinner,” I tell him. “How did everything turn out?”

“Pretty good, I think.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I had to make an emergency run to the store this morning for hamburger buns—I don’t know how I forgot them when I got groceries yesterday—but other than that, everything was smooth sailing.”

We reach the patio and I see that he’s laid out all the food on a folding table covered with a red gingham plastic tablecloth. A stack of clear plastic plates—the ones that seem fancy for disposable dishware—waits on one end, along with forks and cups. A pitcher of something pink with dark circles bobbing in it sparkles beside the cups. It all looks very appetizing and put together.

“What’s that in the pitcher?” I ask.

“Fresh squeezed strawberry lemonade,” he replies proudly. “I had to buy a sieve to keep the seeds out, but I think it tastes pretty good.”

“Where’d you get the recipe?” It certainly isn’t one I sent him.

“I googled it. I couldn’t resist the urge to add something that I came up with all on my own for extra credit.”

I reach over and squeeze his arm. “I’m impressed! This really looks good, Alex. I’m so proud of you.”

I look up at him and see him watching me, his mouth slightly ajar. He glances down at my hand, and I drop it quickly before anyone else sees. I clear my throat and put some space between us as my cheeks heat. Did that count as flirting? It’s the first time I’ve touched him outside of a handshake. Or, you know, fleeing hand-in-hand for our lives from an imaginary intruder.

He averts his eyes and turns to face his family, who are milling around claiming seats in the circle of chairs around the fire pit, which is thankfully not burning today. We certainly don’t need any extra heat. “Alrighty, I think that’s everyone,” Alex says. “Let’s eat.”

Cheerful chaos ensues as everyone fills their plates, talking and laughing the whole time. I stand back and wait for the line to die down before building a burger and getting a generous helping of each of the different salads.

The only open seat is on the end, beside Alex. I sit down and settle my plate in my lap, listening to Alex chat with Chris about Maddy’s interior design business and how it’s grown enough that she was able to take some time off when Ileigh was born and let the other designers she brought on handle things for a few months. When Chris stands up to get a refill, Alex turns to me.

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