Page 73 of Cruel Offer
“I guess so.”
I scoff. “You guess so? Are you going to tell me that you’ve never had a chocolate chip cookie before?”
“Not fresh from my own kitchen, no.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat. Wait half an hour and this whole place is going to smell like a wonderful little corner bakery.”
Lowering the paper, he appraises me and then smiles.
“That’s nice. That will be nice.”
With a distracted nod, he leaves the kitchen. I wonder why he’s acting so odd.
My phone rings just as I’m about to add the chocolate chips. It’s Cleo.
“Hey, girl. Did you get my text earlier?” she asks.
“I did.”
“I sent it like five hours ago and you didn’t respond.”
Putting her on speaker so I don’t have to hold the phone while I work, I measure out the chocolate chips and dump them into the batter.
“Sorry. I’m not sure tonight is good for us.”
She groans. “You’re always putting meoff, Piper. You have to let me meet this mystery man one of these days, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…not a good night.”
I start mixing again and the spatula clunks as it hits the side of the bowl.
“What are you doing, Piper? What’s that noise?”
“I’m making cookies.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. That’s it, you’re coming out with me tonight, man or no man. Your life is not going to turn into housewifery and baking cookies, and if that’s what this guy has got you doing, you better reassess whether he’s right for you. Speaking of which, you sure we can’t double date? Because as much as I love being judgy and suspicious, I’d rather meet him for myself and then decide whether he’s good enough for you.”
The rustle of paper gets my attention. Nate stands at the end of the island, watching me. He points to my phone and nods, and it takes me a second to realize he’s approving the double date.
I mouth,‘Are you sure?’
He nods again.
“Um, well, guess what? We’d love to double date tonight.”
She squeals so loudly over the phone that I wince.
“Awesome! I already made reservations at Sahara for eight. Come early so we can do drinks in the lounge. See you then!”
I end the call and point my mixing spoon at Nate. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Sahara’s great. Sounds fun.”
Sounds fun? Who is this man?
“You’re not going to lecture me about keeping our little secret?”
Moving closer, he contemplates the dough in the bowl, then plucks the spoon from my hand and scoops some out. Snagging a bit on his finger, he pops the dough in his mouth.
