Page 49 of In Good Company

“Everything’s fine,” I assure him, walking back over to where I’ve prepped the ingredients for our meal.

Cal watches me carefully. His blue eyes track my every move as I rearrange the items on the counter just to give myself something to do.

He clears his throat. I meet his gaze as he grabs the edge of the countertop and leans forward. The intensity with which hestares at me, his lips set in a hard line, makes my pulse spike. “You know you can talk to me, right?” His voice comes out gruff.

I nod, my face feeling suddenly flushed. He stares at me like he cares, and that’s dangerous for my heart. I give him what I hope is a believable smile. “I do. Like I said, everything’s fine. My mom just needed help with something, but it’s all good now.”

He sighs. His knuckles tap against the countertop with a second deep exhale. “Okay. If you say so. You good to record?” He gestures to the film setup.

I nod my head, walking over to him and looking down at my phone. I don’t have any more notifications from my mom, but I turn the ringer on just in case she calls while it’s recording. “Hopefully you won’t regret offering to do this with me,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

He scoffs. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Lucy Rae.” I watch quietly as he carefully places my phone in his makeshift camera setup.

His eyes find mine as one corner of his lips lifts. “I’m going to press Record now so we can get started.”

Nervous butterflies take flight in my stomach. Even with him here, I feel anxious about talking while the camera’s recording. I try to push that to the back of my mind. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” I answer with a groan.

TWENTY-SIX

CAL

“Okay, just like that,” Lucy says softly from my side. She leans over the counter, watching me closely as I grate parmesan onto the platter in front of me.

“Is that enough, or should I add more?” I ask, loving how natural it feels to be in the kitchen with her. I’ve never been particularly interested in cooking. I’m all about being efficient. It’s always made sense for me to hire someone to prepare meals for me so I can focus on work. But being in the kitchen with her tonight and learning from her has turned out to be a better time than I expected.

“Personally, I love the way fresh parmesan elevates breadcrumbs, so I’d say you can do more.”

I nod, doing exactly as I’m told. She stands by my side, using a spoon every now and then to mix the breadcrumb mixture around.

“Next, we’re going to take our pounded chicken breasts, dip them in egg, and then we’re going to coat them in the breadcrumbs.” Lucy looks at me as she explains what we’re going to do, but at the end, she gives the camera a shy smile.

I can’t help but smile too. It’s obvious the further we getinto this lesson, the more comfortable she becomes speaking in front of the camera.

“Got it,” I respond, watching carefully as she shows me exactly what to do.

“And once it’s nice and coated, we’re going to place it on our lined pan before repeating with the rest of the chicken.” It’s quiet as she lets me take over coating the chicken breasts in the egg wash and breadcrumbs. I don’t miss that with each minute that passes by, her shoulders loosen little by little.

It struck something deep inside me to see the concern written all over her face when she got the call from her mom. I’m not sure what happened, and it was obvious Lucy didn’t want to tell me either.

However, whatever it was, it worried Lucy…which means it worried me. From the moment she took the phone call, I’ve wanted to ask what was wrong, but I’ve kept myself from doing so.

If Lucy wanted to tell me, she would. And for some reason, it’s bothering me that I’m not someone she trusts enough to confide in, even though it makes sense why she wouldn’t. We haven’t talked about a lot of personal things. What goes on in her personal or family life shouldn’t be my business.

But I want it to be my business. I just don’t have the nerve to tell her that yet because I don’t want her to tell me no.

“Those look perfect,” Lucy compliments as I finish putting fresh basil leaves atop the slices of mozzarella she had me place between each piece of chicken.

“Only because I have an amazing teacher.” I fold my arms across my chest, basking in the warmth that comes from her smile.

“Chicken parmesan is pretty simple,” she mumbles, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she focuses on the ground for a moment.

“Maybe some of the best recipes are simple but delicious.”

It seems like she’s forgotten all about her phone, which is still recording, by the way her entire face lights up at my words. “Simple but delicious. I like that. That’s what I want my recipes to be.”

I cock my head in the direction of the pan of food we need to put into the oven. “It seems like that’s what they’ll be. My stomach is already growling thinking about eating this meal.”

She rolls her eyes before sliding the pan off the counter. Carefully, she walks it to the large oven range. “The trick to the perfect chicken parm is to make sure your oven is hot. You don’t want to overcook the chicken, but you want the cheese to get nice and melted and the crust of the chicken to be crispy. A hot oven is key.”

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