Page 35 of In a Pinch

Seriously, for once in my life, can I just like the right and easy thing?

Chapter Sixteen

Sam

Nope, I am not at all looking for her fiery hair around the classroom. Is she not going to come again? It’s the last class we are doing, and I stupidly thought she’d make it. Especially after the other night. I wanted to text her right after it happened, but we never exchanged numbers, and as badly as I wanted it, I wasn’t asking Cal for it. Then, I saw her with him. And I hated the way he had his hands on her. The way she laughed with him.

It was stupid to be even a little interested in her. She’s Isla’s right-hand woman, and she has her shit together. She’s smart, kind, and her smile feels like sunshine.

Fuck. I have a crush on my soon-to-be sister-in-law’s best friend. Having a crush in your midtwenties seems lame as fuck.Especially when it appears that she’s already moved on to the next interest.

When all hope is lost, I catch a glimpse of her red hair as she shuffles to the front of the class. Just in the nick of time. She’s usually never late, unless something happens with work. I can always tell those days because she is still in her business attire. I love Addie in business professional, but Addie in a tight pair of blue jeans? I have to avert my eyes to keep my cock from wanting to wave hello.

“Welcome to the last day of class. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have. Tonight’s assignment? Make a complete meal with no recipe. I have provided protein, starch, carb, and vegetable options, so you should be able to make pretty much anything.” I point to the options on the table behind me. The meats and dairy are on ice to keep things safe. Lord knows, if I give someone food poisoning from unsafe food temps, the boss would have my ass to serve on a platter as the nightly special. “Any questions?”

The class shakes their heads no and begin shopping.

I will go to my grave with this, but I really enjoyed this class. Watching people’s love for cooking come alive while creating dishes was motivating and fun. Even Isla grew on me. It makes me wonder if my brother is the douche I think he is, since he bagged someone like her. Other than that her cooking skills are that of a twelve-year-old’s, I can’t say a negative thing about her. You could say this class has restored my faith in humanity. Well, almost.

Checking on the class, I swing by every station. Everyone is doing well. There are no fires, and no smells of things burning. I save Isla and Addie for last. Addie is struggling with a jar of sun-dried tomatoes. I reach for it and brush her hands.

She moves her hand, motioning for me to stop. “Get your dick beaters off my jar of tomatoes. I’ve got it.” Her voice has an extra edge to it. Icy, like when we first met.

“Dick beaters?” My eyebrows pull up, and my hands drop to my side.

“We all know what you’re doing with your hands. Or does your little, blond friend do that for you?” Still refusing to give up on the jar, she puts her whole body into it as she looks directly into my eyes, shooting little daggers.

Oh. Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. She’s jealous. That shouldn’t make me feel as good as it does. She’s still thinking about me, which means I’m not out of the game, yet. A brief smile flicks across my lips. I figured she was mad, but jealous? That’s a new development.

Ignoring her comment, I urge her on by motioning to the jar. “Well, go ahead. Open the jar there, She-Hulk.”

Her face turns an adorable shade of red as she holds her breath and uses all her might to open the jar with no release.

“You sure you don’t want help?”

She sets down the jar and puts her hands on her hips. My lips slip between my teeth to keep myself from being visibly amused at her struggle.

“If I wanted help, I would ask for it. Thank you very much.”

Stubborn, stubborn girl.

There’s no way she’s going to get that jar open, and there’s no way she will accept my help. She will be buried with this unopened jar before she admits she needs my help. So, that leads me with only one choice: the art of distraction.

Pointing to the back of the classroom, I say, “Oh my gosh, Mary and Carl’s station is on fire.” That does the trick and Isla and Addie whip around. I seize my chance to snag the jar from the counter and have it opened by the time they turn back around. Darting out of their station, I hear Addie curse.

“I didn’t need your help,” she mutters under her breath, immediately pulling out the tomatoes.

Not seeing the point in replying, I remain quiet. I’m either going to be an ass and piss her off worse, or she will chuck the jar at me. Safety first, I always say.

Class ends without a hitch. They all get to take their meals home to their families, and I pack up. It dawns on me that this will be my last time seeing Addie every week and having an excuse to talk to her. The thought makes my head spin with ways to rectify that problem.

My back is turned, wiping down the stations and packing up the left-over food to take to back to the restaurant. The meat will go home with me for safety reasons.

I hear footsteps, and a little hope fills me that maybe Addie has come back and wants to talk. The hope leaves me as quick as it came when I realize it’s a male figure, which sends my pulse flying. My heart rate calms when I notice it’s Chef.

He holds both his arms up and wide with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Well, you did it. No one even called and complained.”

“It turns out, it wasn’t as unbearable as I thought it would be.”

---