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Claire glares and bumps into me until I move into the kitchen.
“Stop looking at me that way, Angie!”
“Whatever do you mean?” My eyes dramatically blink.
“Shut up.”
“So, um, I guess you enjoyed your night,” I comment with a chuckle. “Bacon, huh?”
“Ethan is a big meat eater. And so am I.” She winks.
“Ew, gross, Claire!” I whisper-shout. “So, no faux-turkey-tofu-torture?” I ask with a hint of sarcasm.
“No,” she loud whispers. “That stuff tastes like Styrofoam. In the shittiest kind of way. Even I have standards.”
I wiggle my brows up and down. “I like him already. Can he move in so that I can feel less guilty when I come back from the grocery store?”
“This is part of a cheat day experience,” she whispers every word. “Shh, he doesn’t know about my—”
“Food avoidance quirks?”
“Whatever,” she huffs, throwing the drying towel onto her shoulder.
“One night with a man who likes real food and Commander Claire loses all of her inhibitions in regard to organi—”
“The pigs were pasture raised and organically fed. So stuff it!”
“They are also highly intelligent animals that could have—”
“Stop, please,” she whines, holding her hands over her ears in horror. “I saw the documentary. Twice.”
“Then obviously you are an expert.” My tone is deadpan.
She flips me off, and I belly laugh loudly enough to be heard from the other room. I can’t hold it back anymore. “If a man can get you”—giggle—“to relax your tyranny”—giggle—“of all things food”—giggle—“then he has to be a keeper.” Seeing for the first time that Ethan’s shirt is buttoned wrong on Claire’s petite body only makes it next to impossible to stop the laugh attack, as I point out the error.
Claire props her hands on her hips as I finish up my shit show. “Poor piggies.”
“I’m sure it’s a fast ethical death with dignity.”
“La, la, la, la!” she yells, recovering her ears. “Hush, please.”
I pull her hands away from the sides of her head. “I had my fun, and I am done now,” I promise.
“I like him,” she says suddenly.
“I know.” I smile and nod. “I’m sorry for teasing you.”
“If you didn’t, I would think you were ill. Want to have breakfast with us and channel surf? I need to order some As Seen on TV items that I’ll never use.”
I shake my head at her. “Sure. Then I have to go to the lab to work on some research.”
“Don’t forget about open-mic night,” she reminds, scrambling the eggs in the pan over the stove.
“I won’t. Pissing off my tech support isn’t best for business,” I joke. “Zander still needs to exorcise my latest malware STD from my laptop. It is running soooo slowwww.”
Claire’s bubbly laugh makes me smile. “Yeah, Z is very excited that you agreed to come.” She gives me a knowing glance that I elect to ignore. With Claire, there are a lot of things I choose to ignore.
“I wouldn’t miss it. Plus, he agreed to accompany me to the charity gala. At least I’ll have someone to dance with this year. Surely, I can suffer through being stuck in a room with a bunch of drunken college students at The Shack, flashing fake IDs like they are going out of style.”
