Page 19 of Leo
“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think violence is the way to go here.”No matter how much I wanted to just shake someone myself… I groaned, closing my eyes as Edward hooted victory in the other room.“God, Naomi, I feel bad for feeling good.Does that make sense at all?”
She gave my shoulder a little push, making me rock into the wall behind me.“I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told you since you declared martyrdom at the sight of a positive pregnancy test: Edward is your priority, but he doesn’t replace having a life.If you keep denying yourself, you’re going to end up smothering him as he gets older, and that’s not healthy.”
“I’m dumping him on you to go have dinner with Ambrose.I should be spending quality time with Edward, not running off to flirt with the pretty guy who smells like cinnamon and Old Spice.”
Naomi sighed, reaching out to gently cup my chin and give me a little shake.“I just want to point out one thing to you, okay?One thing.”I nodded.“You keep saying you should stay, just drop what you’re doing and not go out.”Another nod.“But you’re not doing it.You haven’t messaged him saying you changed your mind.You drove Edward all the way over here.Hell, you’re dressed up in non-funeral clothes and,” she paused to take a sniff of my neck.“Yep.Sandalwood.Leo is on the prowl.”She made a ridiculousrawrnoise and batted her hands at me like claws.
“Good lord, how does Mike stand you?”
“I put out pretty regular so…” She shrugged.“You know.”
“I’d rather not.”
She chuckled.“But I’m right, right?About you not canceling.About you dressing up… You want this, Leo.You want some happy.And that’s what this is—happy.It’s not a commitment.It’s not some dire declaration of undying love.You’re having dinner with the man then going to a stuffy old chamber of commerce meeting to talk about the float for the autumn festival.I’ll bet dollars to donuts it’s another boring rainbow with the board members in business casual, looking like they’re in the middle of a hostage situation.”
“I won’t take that bet,” I sighed.“Damn it, Naomi…”
“Damn it, Leo,” she parroted.“Go!Have fun!I promise you, you are not the first single parent to date—or have fun—and you won’t be the last.Edward is loved, cared for, and probably already neck-deep in Mario Smash Blast Brothers Kart or whatever Leslie’s got queued up.””
“Right, right… Just…”
“Justgo.”She laughed.“And don’t come back without at least one kiss under your belt.Or, you know,under your belt.”
“I hate you and I’m withdrawing best friend status.”
“Nope, can’t.I already had my membership card laminated.Now go before I turn the hose on you to chase you off.”
* * *
We’d agreedto drive separately—it just made things easier than trying to figure out whose car to take and, even though neither one of us said it, it also meant an easier getaway if the night sucked.Ambrose had suggested a small burger joint near the beach.Somewhere that wasn’t aimed at the tourist trade and most people would walk right past unless they knew exactly what they were looking for.He was waiting outside when I pulled up, looking the opposite direction from where I was coming.I took a minute to just look at him and take in the compact lines of his body, the way the evening breeze made the longer strands of his hair blow around his face as he stared off toward the sliver of beach visible through the trees.And I sent up a prayer of thanks to whoever had told him that slightly too tight Henley was the right choice to wear for the evening becauseunf.He glanced my way, looked away, then did a double take, grinning and raising his hand in greeting.
“Hey,” he called as I got out of the car.“I was hoping I gave good directions.I found this place by accident a few years ago and I swear it’s Brigadoon, just vanishing into the mist every few years.I’ll go months being able to grab a burger here, then some days I just can’t find it to save my life.”
“Well, this is the first time anyone’s ever taken me out for possibly magical burgers.This date’s off to a great start.”
“So, it is a date?”he asked, holding the handbill-plastered door open for me.“There’s no wrong answer but I know which one I’m hoping for.”
“It’s alet’s see how this goes,” I said.“But we can call it a date.”
“Excellent.”
We were shown to a small table near the back of the restaurant, overlooking a sliver of the ocean where it pressed a finger inland.The server showed up with glasses of water almost as soon as we were seated and took our drinks order before leaving us to decide on our food.
“Pretty much everything I’ve had here is good,” Ambrose said.“Though the fish burgers are little less great than the others.”
“There’s something weird about fish burgers.It’s like getting ice cream and its parmesan flavored or something.”
He made a face, laughing.“I’m not sure how that’s even the same thing but I’ll accept your analogy.”
“It’s a food that shouldn’t be served in a certain form.Parmesan as ice cream, fish as burgers.”
“But any other cheese as an ice cream?That’s okay?”
“I’ve heard good things about goat cheese,” I teased.
“You’ve been lied to.There’s nothing good about goat cheese.”
We ordered and then fell into surprisingly easy conversation, joking about our food choices and then sliding into our histories.He told me about growing up in rural Oregon before going to business school in Portland and pivoting to becoming a baker after his parents died— “I’d always loved old recipes and I collected those weird cookbooks you find at garage sales and resale shops, things like the First Church Lady’s Book of Microwave Fudge Recipes and stuff like that.I really got into the strange recipes and decided to try making some of the more iconic ones into desserts.The idea took off and people in baking school loved trying them, so when I decided to open my own place, I ran with the idea.”
