Page 8 of The Chef's Kiss
“I was thinking veggie omelets and toast.” He retrieved the eggs from the fridge.
“If you must.” I sighed, hoping I could keep the eggs down this time. Certain foods were not my friend these days.
I turned to watch the two lovebirds moving around the kitchen together. Resting my head on the back of the couch, I smiled. Seeing my brother in domestic bliss gave me hope. If the surly, reclusive Conrad Ashford could find love, then there was still hope for me.
Leyla and Conrad were adorable together. I’d never seen my stern brother act so goofy before. He had nothing but smiles for his girlfriend. It wasn’t fair.
“Should we tell her our news?” Leyla grinned as she set the kitchen table for three.
A sinking feeling hit me like a truck. I liked Leyla. She was great, and she was good for my brother. I should be thrilled they were in love.
“I proposed.” Conrad’s cheeks flushed with pleasure. “She said yes.”
“Well, that was the most underwhelming recap I’ve ever heard.” Leyla shook her head. “After I got back from my last assignment in Peru, he picked me up from the airport and was acting weird,” she began.
“Weirder than usual?” I asked, not bothering to help with the dinner prep. I was exhausted and a little ill from my afternoon of eating too much chocolate.
“Exactly, so I knew he was up to something.” Leyla busied herself finishing the spinach salad she’d started to go with the burgers we weren’t having now. I knew very well two of us wouldn’t be eating that salad unless it had something deep-fried on it.
“The short version of this story is, I botched it,” Conrad cut in, whipping eggs in a glass bowl. “I tried to do the fancy dinner proposal, but it was a disaster, so I brought her back here and we took a late-night ride up to the cliffs overlooking the ocean, and I asked her to marry me right there under the stars.”
“Because that’s the way you should have done it from the start.” I rolled my eyes at him, still not helping. “You’re not the fancy dinner proposal kind of guy, but you do have the whole nature thing working for you. Stick to your strengths, bro.”
“That’s what I said.” Leyla laughed, moving to set her wilted spinach salad on the table.
“When’s the big day, then?” My appetite slipped away as I watched the two of them together in their happy little bubble. It was good to see Conrad with someone. I was happy for him. Even happier to see Leyla, a woman killing it in her field, who didn’t have to make compromises to get her happily ever after in her professional and personal lives.
I was jealous.
Insanely jealous. I wanted what they had, and I didn’t want to wait for my thirties to get it. I wasn’t used to waiting for the things I wanted. When things didn’t go my way, I didn’t exactly know how to regroup and move on.
“Not sure yet.” Leyla shrugged.
“It depends on when she leaves for her next assignment,” Conrad added.
“Have you hired a wedding planner yet? Because all the best ones will be booked up for ages.”
Conrad snorted. “We’re not the wedding planner sort of people.”
“We thought we might have a small wedding here on the island when the time is right.” Leyla placed a platter of cheesy omelets and sauteed peppers and onions onto the table.
My stomach growled, and I lumbered off the couch to wash my hands and fill my plate with cheesy goodness. I’d eat anything covered in melted cheese, even Leyla’s wilted spinach and mushroom salad.
“We have plenty of time to talk about wedding planning.” Leyla slid into the wobbly kitchen chair opposite me. “What have you planned for your graduation party?”
“Party? No party.” I focused on the food, hoping for a quick subject change.
“Wait, you haven’t planned the celebration of the year?” Conrad’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You feeling okay, sis?” He checked me for a fever, and I dodged his big, meaty hand.
“I’m so over college.” I dove back into my eggs, thinking if I had to write one more academic paper, I might scream.
“What about grad school? The whole five-year plan to get your MBA a year early?” Conrad stood to retrieve the ketchup from the fridge, setting it on the table beside me.
“Awe, you remembered my weirdness.” I took up the bottle and squirted a blob of ketchup across my eggs and grilled veggies.
“That’s kind of revolting.” Leyla giggled. “Aren’t you Ashfords supposed to have refined tastes to go along with your superior wine?”
I snorted at her awful pun. “Did I tell you I like this one?” I pointed at Leyla with my fork. “Don’t screw this up.”
