The last thing I need is meaningless hookups coming knocking later. I already have one clinger that’s not letting go just yet. It’s bad enough that she calls my phone and sends messages.
Therefore, Harriet’s never caught me with a girl the morning after.
We sit down to eat, and it’s almost like I’m not here. The two women talk each other’s ears off, and I actually learn some new things about the two.
The things I do know are that Harriet went to cooking school in Paris over thirty years ago. She met her husband while there, and after that, they travelled the world, collecting recipes and culinary experiences that she eventually turned into several books.
I have each one lined up in my bookshelf, and Harriet often brings them out whenever she cooks for us.
After many years of living out of a suitcase, they ended up in London.
I was out to dinner after just moving to London when I met Harriet and her husband.
They took pity on me, eating alone in a crowded restaurant, even though I insisted it was no problem.
“Food is meant to be experienced with others,” Harriet told me, and sat herself down at my table.
The rest is history, as you say.
I developed a great relationship with both of them and offered Harriet the job if she wanted it.
She and her husband are the closest thing I have to friends here, outside of the team.
When Harriet finishes the story, Lily sighs.
“Oh, wow. That’s wonderful, Harriet.”
Harriet also tells Lily about her husband and how they’re planning a trip this winter, but haven’t decided where just yet.
I make a mental note to give her an extra-large bonus this year so they can go anywhere they want.
Next up, we talk about Lily and her degree in sports psychology.
Some of her friends are considering continuing their studies with a master’s degree, but Lily hasn’t decided what she wants to do just yet.
She will do whatever feels right for her, she says—the most Lily thing ever if you ask me.
Her ability to live her life to the fullest is admirable. She says she would love to gain more hands-on experience in the field, rather than spending the next two years nose-to-grindstone in more books.
If that doesn’t work out, she’s planning on spending some time travelling, getting a tan, and checking up on handsome men, as she says.
The notorious flirt that she is.
I imagine Lily travelling all across the world, enjoying the beach, good food, and God-forbid, checking up on the local men who’re going to offer her a drink, and much more.
I stop my train of thought, hoping she’ll be able to pursue the practical side of sports psychology—preferably with a women’s team, where no men can derail her career.
At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself as I sit here and observe the two women chatting away.
No matter what she decides, I know she’ll excel at what she does.
Chapter 8
Lily
“I’m so full I could explode,” I say, falling back onto the couch.
The dinner Harriet prepared was terrific, and I ate way too much, leaving me in the current situation where all I want to do is lie down on this couch and take a nap.
