Page 18 of Mama Si's Paradise

I shook my head, not exactly sure what the hell to even think at that point. I just sat down and made sure the robe was covering me completely from my neck down to my ankles.

“Start off with your favorite childhood dish. What was on your mind any time someone asked you what you wanted to eat? And what did you want to make every day for yourself when you grew up? What did you pester your mom about until it was on the table and ready to eat?” Claus smiled brightly. “I like to make those dishes for birthdays, occasionally for a job well done, too. Mostly birthdays, though, and yours is injust five months!”

At that point it would have probably been a very good idea to ask him,how in the fuck do you know when my birthday is?

As it was, I just shook my head again. “I…I don’t know. I’m not…not really big on food. I’ll eat anything.”

The way his smile dropped all the way… “There’s no such a thing asnot big on food,” he informed me. “But regardless. Tell me your favorite dish as a child. I’ll work something out. Just give me a name.”

Shit. I really didn’t want to ruin his mood again. “Mac and cheese,” I said, clearing my throat. “It’s, uh…it’s mac and cheese.”

“Right,” he said, almost like he was disappointed. “And how did you make it?”

“Any cheese works, really. I just used whatever was in the kitchen.” I went for a smile, too. He returned it, but I could tell it was strained.

“Of course, yes. What did you eat for special occasions and birthdays?” he then asked. My cheeks flushed. “And lastly, I need to know your family’s Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I…we, uh…” We ate sardines and yogurt and tomatoes and bread. We ate bananas and apples. We lived in a trailer park and the money Missy got for raising me went to her booze and her colors—she fancied herselfa painter. We didn’t really have much to spend on groceries. “Well, we always made chocolate cake for birthdays with my grandma. She used to make them so I’m not sure how exactly, but they were delicious. They had banana chunks in them,” I lied. “I’d eat that cake all day for each birthday, so, uh…and-and-and Thanksgiving dinner was really special, too. We always had stuffed turkey and-and mashed potatoes, and casserole, and then cheesecake,” I continued in a breath. “And pumpkin pie, too. I love pumpkin pie.”

Claus blinked at me, the smile still on his face. “That sounds…fancy.”

“Gravy,” I said with a nod. “We always made lots of gravy to top it all off.”

“Okay,” Claus said. “That’s a lot of calories right there. You’re lucky you’re skinny, right?” And he laughed. It was so fake it hurt my ears, but my laughter was even faker.

“I run every day.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie.

“Good for you. You’ll meet your fitness trainer, too, I imagine, and she’ll give me an approximate number of calories you need to be consuming per day, as well as protein and carbs and fat. Fat is very importantly.” He pulled out a small pad from a wide pocket in the front of his uniform shirt and began to write something down. “Weight and height?”

“About a hundred and ten or fifteen pounds, and five foot six-ish,” I said, and he scribbled it in his pad.

He then asked if I had any chronic conditions, whether I was allergic to anything specific and what I thought about different kinds of nuts for whatever reason, how I felt about gluten, and which veggie made me the most gassy.

When he wrote everything down, he put his pad back in his pocket and looked up at me.

“I think I have a close idea about what kind of dishes you might like,” he told me. “I’ll speak to Jennifer about your macros, and I’ll make your meal plan by tomorrow.” With a wink, he stood up, giving Marissa a look I couldn’t quite decipher.

“Oh. Thank you, that’s…”absolutely insane,were the words that popped into my head, so I just let my voice trail off. A meal plan with macros and the kinds of dishes I might like? What the hell was this place?

“No need to thank me yet. Can’t wait to explore your taste in the coming weeks, Miss Hayes,” Claus said as Marissa held the door open for him to leave.

“Please, call me Fall.”

“Oh,” said Claus, dark brows raised. “That’s a…sadname.”

Well, damn.

“Beautiful, though,” Marissa suddenly said. “Falling can be beautiful, too.”

“Of course,” said the chef, and with another nod at me, he slipped out the door.

“Your clothes are ready. I think you’ll like this dress,” Marissa said without missing a beat, and then she pointed at the foot of the bed, at a suitcase on the floor that was already open.

“I got you a warm orange to match your hair and eyes,” she told me, and pulled out a pale orange dress with spaghetti straps and a slit up the left side that was much more revealing than possibly anything I’d ever worn so far.

“Oh, that’s…that’s too much for me,” I told her, even though I loved the shimmery fabric of the dress and the way it looked so…sophisticated.Exactly like something those girls lounging by the pool would wear.

“Nonsense—it’s exactly enough. Here, put these on. Let me dress you up first, and then you can decide, okay?” She gave me a pair of panties, white and lacy with so little actual fabric, and a matching bra, too. I’d always had a big behind, and my boobs were pretty small, but the white bra looked gorgeous on me. Fuck—it lookedamazing, and it made me feel so damn emotional for some reason. Maybe because I’d never really cared much about lingerie, never owned anything so sexy, so I had no idea it could actually make you feel likethis.

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