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Eliot glanced at the cute penguin-shaped appetizers I’d made, and the carefully arranged fresh veggies on skewers, which looked like a blooming flower garden. “Alright, I get that,” he said. “Is this stuff really selling that message, though? It might come across as a little…”
I finished for him. “Childish. I know, but I’m not trying to pretend I’m a different person. I might be trying to come across as more capable and responsible than I really am, but I’m never going to stop loving things that are fun, cute, and silly, and I think Dylan actually likes that about me.”
“Cool. Then carry on,” Kel said. “Eliot and I are about to head out to a movie. I hope the date goes great.” JoJo and Yolanda were having dinner with friends, and of course Casey had moved in with Theo, so Dylan and I would actually have the house to ourselves this evening.
After my friends left, I took a look around the kitchen and sighed. How had I managed to make so many dirty dishes? There was no time to clean up, either, since Dylan would be here any minute. Hopefully he wouldn’t want a tour of the house and would never see this mess.
I picked up the tray of appetizers and the flower arrangement-style salad and carried them down the hall to the living room. I’d set up a card table in front of the fireplace and covered it with a white table cloth, then set it with the prettiest dishes we had—well, that Yolanda and JoJo had. All I had were paper plates with poop emojis on them.
Dylan arrived right on time, looking hot as ever in a dark blue Henley and jeans, which were just tight enough to show off his big, sexy body. He kissed my cheek and handed me a long, rectangular box, and then he looked around and said, “What a wonderful house. It reminds me of the Victorian I grew up in.”
“I’m super happy here. Before this, I was renting a room in a plain apartment across town, and this is so much cuter. But what I really love about it are my housemates.” I raised the lid on the white box he’d given me and squealed with delight. It was the type of box that usually held flowers, but this was filled with mini donuts on stems, wrapped up in pretty paper and a ribbon, like a dozen roses. Each was iced in a gorgeous pastel color and decorated with sprinkles.
After I carefully put the box on the bench in the entryway, I threw my arms around Dylan and exclaimed, “Thank you! They’re perfect. How can you possibly know me so well?”
“It’s easy. Any time I see anything absolutely adorable, I think of you.” That was really sweet. I gave him a kiss, and then he smiled at me and pointed out, “We’re almost the same height today.”
That made me grin. “And all it took was a five-inch heel.” I picked up the box and gestured at the living room. “Let’s go sit down. I made some cocktails and nibbles for us to enjoy before dinner.”
I moved the donut bouquet to the couch, and as I sat down across from him at the decked out card table, he said, “This is amazing.” He picked up one of the penguin appetizers and studied it from all angles. The head and body were black olives, and the bottom one was cut open and stuffed with a little slice of fresh mozzarella, to give it a white tummy. Bits of carrots made up the beak and feet.
“I’m not a great cook,” I admitted, “but I can assemble things like a boss. Just be careful of the toothpick hidden inside there, I don’t want you to stab yourself.”
He stood the little olive penguin on his plate. Then he carefully lifted a veggie flower out of its mason jar vase and held it by its skewer stem. Red bell pepper spikes and rolled up spirals of thinly-sliced cucumber formed the petals, around a carrot medallion center. “I’m blown away by the time and effort you put into this. It must have taken you all day.”
“I wanted to make it special for you,” I said. “Be careful of the toothpicks in those too, it took a lot of them to hold the flower salad together. Also, there’s ranch dressing in that little cup by your plate, so you can dip your veggies after you pluck them.”
“I feel bad about taking them apart and eating them.”
“No, don’t. It’s what they’re for.” I pointed at the silver goblet next to his plate and added, “That’s home-made fruit punch, by the way. It’s currently nonalcoholic, but as you can see, there are a few different ways for you to doctor it up.” Four tiny booze bottles were lined up beside the fancy cup. I’d been absolutely thrilled when I went to the liquor store earlier that day and discovered they sold cute, miniature versions of the full-size bottles.
“You really thought of everything.”
“I tried. This is actually the first time I’ve ever thrown a dinner party, so I wanted to get it right.”
Dylan poured a tiny bottle of rum into his cup, then stirred it up with a palm tree-shaped swizzle stick and raised the goblet in a toast. “To you, Lark, the most thoughtful and adorable dinner party host I could ever imagine. You’ve done an extraordinary job and have made me feel special, so thank you.”
It felt good knowing he appreciated the effort I’d made, and it felt even better to watch him devour the veggies and appetizers. “I figured you’d appreciate something healthy, since you’re so fit,” I said. “There’s a stromboli for dinner, which is kind of like a rolled up pizza if you’ve never had one. And then dessert isn’t even going to pretend to be anything but fat, sugar, and yumminess. But at least I tried to start us out on the right foot.”
“That all sounds great.” He plucked a baby carrot and ate it without dip before asking, “Are any of your housemates around? You speak so highly of them, and I’d love to meet them.”
“They all cleared out for a couple of hours to give us some privacy, but hopefully you’ll meet them later this evening. Well, except for Casey. He officially moved in with his boyfriend, and even though he still comes around a lot, he won’t be here tonight.”
“Were you with your housemates on New Year’s Eve?” I nodded, and he said, “I remember seeing them, but I don’t know who’s who.”
I took a sip of fruit punch, which had turned out yummy if I said so myself, and told him, “So, this house belongs to a woman named Yolanda Gutierrez. She’s a nurse, and a total bad-ass. People might underestimate her because she’s only like, five-four, but she’s strong and tough and amazing.”
“I’m guessing she was the Latina with long, dark hair at the party.”
“Yes! That’s her. She put the down-payment on this house with an inheritance she got after her dad died, and she rents out the four upstairs bedrooms to help cover the mortgage. She’s a total boss lady, and I admire her. No matter what happens, she just handles it, like when the water heater died and flooded the laundry room a couple of months ago. She’s a first time homeowner and it’s not like she knew what to do, but she stayed calm and figured it out. I wish I was more like her.”
“You don’t think you are?”
“Not even close. Then there’s her wonderful girlfriend, Josephine Deveraux. Oh wait, make that fiancée. They got engaged last month. Anyway, JoJo is transgender and a gorgeous blonde goddess who’s all about living her life proudly and authentically, with grace and dignity. She’s just incredible. She had this awful family who kept dead-naming her and refusing to support her, so she struck out on her own at eighteen and completely built herself an amazing life from the ground-up. She studied jewelry design and makes these absolute works of art—literally. They’re sold in several museum gift shops, and she also runs a successful online shop. I admire her so much.”
Dylan said, “You’re a lot like that, you know.”
“I wish. When my parents kicked me out, I never would have made it if Gran hadn’t taken me in. And I can only dream about being able to support myself by creating things of beauty, the way JoJo does.”
