He nods over at the dairy stall.
“Just a few bits for the starters, then we’ll head over to meat and fish; fish for tonight, meat for tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait.”
Eric smiles.
“You’re so… So talented. I’d never be able to even come up with all those dishes, let alone know how to make them.”
He shrugs, as if it didn’t matter.
“One day I’ll hopefully have my own place.”
“A restaurant, you mean?”
He nods. “I’m saving up so that I can do it all on my own, you know?”
“Of course,” I say, a sense of pride swelling in my chest which doesn’t belong to me.
“My dream used to be a family-run restaurant, but…” He shakes his head. “It’s not easy to find someone with the same dream as you.”
I want to tell him that he’ll find it, one day. But I don’t think it’s the right time.
“That’s a nice dream.”
He smiles again, and I melt a little more under his kind gaze.
“What about you? Did you always want to teach?”
“I think so. I mean, I always liked reading, and I used to tutor the kids in my neighbourhood. I guess I always knew I’d be good at it.”
“I’m sure you’re really good.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m sure you’re good at lots of things, Mr. Quinn.”
“Oh, well… I manage.”
He sighs. “You do more than that.”
“Is this an innuendo, by any chance?”
“You got it.” He turns to me, his gaze hungry. “I really want to take you back home.” There’s a pause laden with meaning. “I want to take you to bed.”
I swallow nervously.
“I thought you’d be busy cooking, and…”
He steps towards me, his hand grabbing my scarf, bringing me just a hair’s breadth from his mouth.
“I could find some time. It would be worth it.”
“Or we could wait.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Wait to see if you’re sure about what you’re doing,” I say, stupidly, more masochistic than ever.
