Page 50 of Breaking Hollywood

But, anyway, I don’t really feel like I’m earning my money, and it doesn’t sit well with me, so I’m going to ask him if there are more jobs that I can do around the house.

Dinner’s almost ready, so I call out from the kitchen to Gabe, “Where do you want to eat dinner? At the table or in the living room?”

“Living room’s fine,” he calls back. “You need me to do anything?”

“No, I got it.”

I serve up the jerk-seasoned pulled pork that I just made into a dish. Then, I turn the heat off the stove and dish out the spicy-jerk prawns with mango into another waiting bowl. I get a tray from the cupboard and put the pulled pork, jerk prawns, tortillas, banana salsa, and coconut dressing that I made earlier on it. I grab the prepackaged salad from the fridge and empty it into another dish. I put it on the tray, which is looking pretty full.

I’ll have to come back for the plates.

I pick up the tray and carry it through to the living room. Gabe is on the sofa, foot up on the footstool, watching TV. Gucci is laid out on the rug, fast asleep, but then her head perks up at the smell of food.

I put the tray on the coffee table.

“I’ll just grab the plates, and I’ll be back. You want anything to drink?” I grab the two empty beer bottles off the coffee table.

“Do you want wine with dinner?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“There are some bottles in the wine cooler. Take your pick.”

“Okay.” I go back in the kitchen and drop the beer bottles in the recycling bin.

I get another tray and put two plates on it along with some serving cutlery. We don’t need any other utensils, as this is finger food. Then, I get two wine glasses and pick out a nice Riesling, which will nicely accompany the food. I remove the cork and then carry everything into the living room.

When I get there, Gabe is sitting on the rug near the coffee table, his leg stretched out on the floor.

“You okay sitting there?” I ask, putting the other tray down.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I thought it’d be easier to sit here, and then I can get to the food.”

“I would have made you a plate,” I tell him as I kneel on the rug across from him and next to Gucci.

She moves up and rests her head against my leg, so I give her head a scratch.

She baaahhhs softly.

And Gabe laughs.

“What?” I ask him.

“Just thinking of when I first heard that noise, and I thought she was a fucking sheep.”

“Now, that would have been crazy, if I had a sheep as a pet.” I laugh.

“Yeah, about as crazy as having a goat as one.”

“Ass.” I laugh again and then hand him a plate.

“This looks great. Not to be ignorant, but what is it?”

“That’s jerk pulled pork.” I point to it. “And that’s spicy-jerk prawns with mango.” I indicate the other dish. “There’s coconut dressing and banana salsa to dress them with.”

“You made all of this?”

“Yep.”