“Like you’re not still hung up on a certain ex-boyfriend.”
“Who, Brad?”
“Yeah, Brad. Lauren said you stormed out of your first interview with him. That sounds like something a mature adult would do.”
“You guys don’t get it. Brad is different. And he and I actually dated.”
Lauren and Paige glanced at each other, clearly uncomfortable with the harshness in Lindsay’s tone. So, okay, maybe she was being unfair. Pablo was an acquaintance of theirs from the neighborhood; currently, he worked at Stories, the bookstore two doors down from the cat café. Evan had harbored a crush on him for years, but hadn’t been able to summon the courage to ask him out before Pablo found a boyfriend. Now Pablo and this guy were in a committed relationship and Evan was with Will, and although Lauren was not convinced Evan had moved on, that situation was nothing like the one between Lindsay and Brad. Still, she could tell she’d pissed Evan off.
Lindsay swallowed and said, “I’m sorry, Evan. But—”
“Ixnay on the Ablo-pay,” said Evan. “Will is coming back.”
A moment later, Will slid back into the booth. He seemed to sense the tension at the table and said, “Did something happen?”
Probably as a cover, Evan said, “I made the mistake of bringing up Brad.”
“I’m new,” said Josh. “So explain this to me. What the hell happened with Brad?”
Lindsay sighed. “Well, we met in culinary school and hit it off right away, and we were pretty hot and heavy. We dated seriously the whole last year of school.”
And, god, it had been amazing. Lindsay hated to think about it now because the memory of losing something so great was too painful, but back in those days, they’d been all over each other all the time. They’d had sex in one of the kitchens at school after hours one night. And one time in a pantry. And all over both of their apartments. But it wasn’t just sex with them. They enjoyed each other’s company and liked to cook together and liked to talk over slowly sipped cups of coffee or tea in the evenings. They’d been in love. Lindsay had been happy.
She could admit that Brad was both hot and charming. He’d cleaned up some now, but back in culinary school, he’d worn his brown hair a little longer so that it hung rakishly over his eyes—he held it back with bandannas in the kitchen—and he shaved less often. Despite baking decadent desserts for a living, he ate very healthy otherwise, and he’d always had a lean, athletic body.
He was hot and funny and easy to talk to. He was so easy to talk to that Lindsay had told him things she’d never told anyone. So he knew that her divorced parents had done a number on her, that her father hadn’t known the definition of the wordfaithful, that watching her parents’ marriage dissolve at a formative age had left Lindsay with trust issues. And what had Brad done? He’d kissed Phoebe. Lindsay had put her trust in a man for the first time in her life, and he’d betrayed her.
“Okay. And?” asked Josh.
Lindsay sighed. “I walked in on him kissing another woman one evening.”
“Ah,” said Josh. “I can see why that would be a strike against him.”
“Not just another woman, but this friend of his who had been trying to get in his pants for weeks.”
“I’m not defending him,” said Lauren, “but he says it was a misunderstanding.”
“Hard to misunderstand his tongue inside another woman’s mouth.”
“Fair,” said Lauren.
“How long ago was this?” Josh asked. “And how did I not know you went to culinary school?”
“We graduated five years ago.” Lindsay smiled, despite still feeling riled up. “I worked as a line cook for a year and hated it, so I decided to write about food instead.”
“Interesting,” said Josh. “So this means you can cook, right? Why don’t we have dinner at your place more often instead of smushing ourselves into this tiny bar?”
“Because my apartment is even smaller than this bar,” said Lindsay, “but if you play your cards right, I’ll cook for you soon.”
“Come to our place,” said Paige. “We’ll have a dinner party. We’ve got plenty of space and a very nice kitchen that we hardly ever use.” Josh was a lawyer who had, until about six months ago, worked at a big corporate Manhattan law firm. He worked for the Brooklyn DA now, which had been a pay cut, but he still did well enough for him and Paige to afford a two-bedroom apartment in one of the fancy new high-rise buildings in downtown Brooklyn. Lindsay remained in awe and not a little bit jealous, since food writing only paid for a studio on the fringes of a good neighborhood.
Lindsay nodded. “Good plan. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on your kitchen for a while.”
“I can be your sous-chef,” said Paige. “I’m not terrible at the cooking.”
“I can verify that,” said Josh.
Hannah started to fuss, so Lauren picked her up and started to rock her a little. Caleb plucked a bottle from the diaper bag and handed it to her. It was like watching a well-choreographed ballet: smooth and practiced.
