Page 38 of Long Shot

Mac watched Taylor delicately stir the food. “So, do you cook for every girl that sneaks in through your parking garage?”

“Do you ever stop playing around?” Taylor whipped around and eyed Mac.

Feeling a sudden tension in the room, Mac’s forehead wrinkled. “I think that would depend on what kind of dinner this is. Is it a “sorry for kissing you in a gay bar bathroom, here’s an NDA,” or an “I’m sorry I let my mom shove me back in the closet and you out of my life?”

Taylor licked her teeth. “You might have to stick around to find out.” Mac swallowed her nerves, completely unsure what the rest of the night would entail. But from what she could see, they had both dressed up – way too much for a casual dinner between old friends.

After a minute, Taylor turned off each burner on the six-burner range. “Alright, go sit at the table.”

Mac stood from her chair and saluted. “Yes, ma’am.” Walking back into the living space, Mac sat at a Mid-century walnut dining table where two place settings were positioned next to each other.

Leaving the head of the table for Taylor, Mac rubbed her hands together as plates clattered in the kitchen. Taylor appeared at the threshold, two plates in hand. She paused, long enough for Mac to take a mental picture of her like that. Her hair draped perfectly down her shoulders, the stunning red dress.

It was a picture of the future Mac had always dreamed for them.

She cleared her throat as Taylor broke the trance and set the plates down. Before she took her own seat, Taylor walked to a record player in the living room. She had already selected a record, placing it on the table and letting it crackle.

The sound came from every corner of the apartment, startling Mac.

“Built-in speakers, grandpa.” Taylor explained with a giggle. She sat back down on the table and straightened her chair.

Mac’s eyes were glued to the food. It looks unreasonably good. A beautiful steak, cooked rare, alongside crisp asparagus and sweet potatoes.

Taylor gulped, a sudden nervousness taking over her. “I hope it’s okay. I figured we were both on training diets.”

“Yeah, Babs would approve.” Mac smiled.

Before they dug in, Taylor grabbed her glass of wine and raised it toward Mac. “To old friends.”

Mac scoffed as she clinked her glass with Taylor’s, swallowing a massive sip. “Just friends, huh?”

“I didn’t say that.” Taylor’s jaw clenched. For a minute, Mac had almost forgotten why she was here. The bathroom. A part of her wanted to keep pretending that it hadn’t happened. That they could bejustfriends. But Mac knew that was impossible.

Letting out a sigh, Taylor set down her glass. “I do owe you an apology.”

Mac raised her hand, waving her off. “Come on, I don’t think we need to do that right now.” Of course, she had waited years to hear it – to hear Taylor apologize for ripping her heart out. But once the can of worms was open, Mac feared she’d never see Taylor again.

“Please, Mackenzie.” Taylor lowered her eyes.

“No,” Mac shook her head. “Seriously, I’d rather just enjoy this food and catch up.”

Confusion washed over Taylor’s face, but she relented. They both dug into their food.

Mac started to smile. “So, you and Connor gonna to go steady?”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “You’re such a bitch. No, Kim set it up.”

“And how do you feel about that?” Mac asked. She took a bite of her steak, the tender meat melting in her mouth as she chewed. It was delicious, still warm from the stove. She lifted her eyes to meet Taylor’s.

Sipping her wine, Taylor shrugged. “He’s a nice guy and we both need cover so I don’t mind on that front. I just wish she would stop meddling. I understood it more when I was a teenager but now…”

Mac raised her eyebrows.She understood it?

Taylor waved her hands, trying to walk it back. “Notunderstand. But I saw where she was coming from. That old school mindset, trying to protect my fledgling career.”

“Right.” Mac nodded, pushing her vegetables around the plate. They soaked up little bits of juice.

“How’s Babs?” Taylor tried to change the subject. Even that felt like a sore topic.

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