Nothing like a hot shower to release the tension of the day. However, I had a moment when the water hit me that took me right back to the spa pool encounter with Nick earlier today. Great. Just what I need. To associate the man with the smoldering eyes with my hot showers.
This is so not happening.
As I pull on a comfy shirt to match my soft lounge pants, my doorbell rings. I wrap my wet curls in a jersey towel as I rush to open the door.
Madi grins and holds up the Turtle Tide bag. “Ready to indulge?”
I grin. “You’re timing couldn’t have been more perfect.”
As if she’s on a mission, she zips past me and heads to the kitchen island toward the back of my apartment.
Originally, the building functioned as the courthouse fifty years ago. Once Mango Lane became the bustling downtown center of Sarabella, they moved to a new facility and sold this one. The new owner had the vision of turning the place into apartments, exposing the original brick outer walls inside, and giving the place a more industrial, yuppie vibe. Later, when I found out the owner was originally from Manhattan, the concept made sense and felt like something you’d find in New York or Seattle. But it was the brightly lit spaces with open plans that clinched the deal for me.
Madi empties the contents of the bag onto the counter. “Do I detect a story in that statement? Did someone have an interesting day?”
“You could say that.” I love how Madi says, ‘interesting.’ She would never say bad things as the woman is always the optimist. She can turn the most challenging situation into an opportunity like no one I’ve encountered to date.
Familiar with my kitchen, she slides two plates out of the cabinet and sets them on the counter. When she opens the container of fettuccine, the divine cheesy aroma makes my mouth fill with saliva faster than the treadmill in my office fills with water. Madi uses tongs to load our dishes, digs into the white paper bag, and pulls out garlic knots for each plate.
I have to swallow or choke at this point. My stomach growls so loud that Madi stops midstream in her explanation of how she decided to take the evening off from the inn.
“When did you eat last?”
I scour my brain for my most recent memory of eating. “Last night?”
Madi grabs two forks from the drawer, adds one to each plate, and then slides one toward me. “You’re worse than I am.”
I shovel a bite into my mouth, then groan with pleasure. “If I ever had to choose my last meal, this would be it.” I settle in at the one end of my overstuffed couch.
Madi sits on the other end with her back against the arm to face me. “So spill the deets. What happened today to make you think you needed fettuccine andwine.”
Her emphasis on wine launches me to my feet. “I knew we were missing something.” I set my plate on the coffee table and dash to the fridge for the bottle of white Riesling. In short order, I’m resettled on the couch with my fettuccine, garlic knots, and wine.
Madi takes a sip from her glass. “This is wonderful. German?”
“Of course.”
She grins, knowing my opinion when it comes to Rieslings. The best ones are inevitably from Germany, at least in my experience.
After setting down her glass, she wiggles into the cushions and twirls her fork. “Now, back to your day. What happened?”
Do I really want to talk about Nick when I’d hoped for an evening of distraction from that very subject? “Nothing major. What about you? How are things at the inn? Any new juicy stories?”
Madi rolls her eyes. “Aside from the week we had Jake Ward staying with us, nothing remotely interesting has happened.”
The infamous Jake Ward. The one who turned our little beach town upside down while filming an episode ofWave Watcherson Mango Key Beach and also the one responsible for Nick’s injury. Until the accident, I used to devour that show because, one, my brother’s a lifeguard, and two—here’s my guilty confession—Nick.
And here we are again. A three-sixty spin back to the subject I’m trying to avoid.
She chews her bite thoughtfully, leading me to believe I’m off the hook until she points her empty fork at me. “You know, you only dodge telling me about your day when something big happens. So, I’m thinking you’re the one with the juicy story tonight.”
Busted.
I groan and gulp down half my glass of wine for courage.
Madi raises her brows at me. “That challenging?”
More like bad, but like I mentioned, she’s a queen of positivity.
