AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Brad pulled one of the chairs from the counter height dining table over and parked it next to the counter along the back wall. He patted the seat and watched her hop up. “Tell me all about the meeting with Shepherd while I finish chopping the salad.”
She told him every detail from the moment she entered Shepherd’s office until she exited when it was over. She said nothing about the panic attack after. While she talked, she watched him expertly chop salad ingredients. Then he got a small stainless-steel bowl, and he whisked together mayonnaise and sriracha sauce. She continued to tell him what she and Caleb had discovered so far.
“I’m optimistic that we will be able to identify at least six women he did the same thing to. One that’s very promising is from last year, a legal major who suddenly left the university in the middle of the semester. She didn’t report being raped, but Caleb got into the medical records of the university’s clinic, and she was treated for injuries consistent with a rape, though she just called it rough sex with her boyfriend.”
“And she was in West’s class?”
“Yes, and her records show she was struggling early in the semester but then pulled it out to get an A on the last test she took before leaving school.” Laura Lee knew she sounded too excited to be discussing what could have happened to this poor young woman.
She watched Brad remove a roast from the oven. He set it on top of the stove. Then he stirred the brussel sprouts that were in the cast-iron skillet, and he re-closed the oven door. “They have about five more minutes.”
Laura Lee hopped up from her chair. “This smells fantastic. I can’t believe you made a roast and roasted brussel sprouts.”
Brad took two plates down from the cabinet. He handed her silverware and two paper napkins. “Can you put them and the salad on the table? And what else would I make?”
Laura Lee shrugged. “I don’t know, a frozen pizza.” She took the items to the table.
Brad laughed. “If that’s what you’d serve me, remind me to be the one who does the cooking.”
She laughed. “I’ve been living in motels for the last year. There hasn’t been a lot of cooking done by anyone. But I did cook for my mom the last time I was home.”
Brad sliced the roast. “What did you cook for your mom?”
“I’ll have you know I made her, my sister, and her kids fried chicken from scratch, meatloaf with a bourbon glaze and real mashed potatoes, and I even made a vegetable lasagna.”
“I’m impressed,” he said.
“No, I’m impressed by what you made.” She watched him take the brussel sprouts from the oven and transfer them to a serving dish. He drizzled the sriracha mayonnaise sauce over them.
“They were roasted in balsamic vinegar.”
“Fancy,” she said. Was she flirting? She was the worst at it. And Brad Dupont had never indicated that he had any intentions beyond friendship.
“Not really. I like to cook. This may come as a surprise to you, but I like HGTV and cooking shows. I guess I’m kind of a nerd.”
Laura Lee laughed. “I think you’re awesome, just the way you are.” Ugh! Yes, she was flirting. She couldn’t stop herself.
“Thank you,” he said.
She watched him transfer the roast onto a serving platter. Then she followed him to the table, bringing the chair she’d sat on with her. When she’d set the table, she’d momentarily silently debated the placement of the plates, finally decided to set it so their plates faced each other. Overthinking it, she knew.
“I really appreciate you inviting me over for dinner,” she said after they were both seated. “I appreciate your friendship, Brad.”
His eyes met hers. “And I appreciate yours too, Laura. I know it took a lot of courage for you to tell first me, and then Shepherd and everyone else in that meeting about West and what happened. I’m glad we’re friends and you felt you could tell me.”
Laura Lee smiled shyly. “When I talked to Joe this morning, and I told him I confided in you first, I basically said lucky Brad for being the one who got this dumped on him.” She said it with the same sarcasm in her voice that she had when telling Lassiter.
“Please don’t feel that way,” he said as he reached across the table to take her hand. “I’m honored that I was the lucky one.” His voice was sincere.
The sensation of his hand holding hers stirred things inside her she hadn’t felt in a long time. She was sure her heart had skipped a beat or two and it was now racing. “Thank you,” she said. She pulled her hand back and picked up her fork. “We should probably eat this before it gets cold.”
Dupont noticed her awkwardness in how she broke the contact with him. He’d probably overstepped. She’d never given him any indication that she welcomed being physically touched. And duh, he should have thought it out. She’d just talked about a sexual assault for the first time in a decade. She was apt to feel physically insecure and not want to be touched. He was sure it was as bad as offering a recovering alcoholic a drink. “Yes, dig in,” he said.
They filled their plates, and each took a few bites. The room was noiseless besides the occasional scraping of a fork or knife against a plate. Dupont wished he’d put some jazz on, to have soft music in the background to help with the quiet moment, but when he’d originally thought about it before she arrived, it seemed corny, like he was trying to set the mood with music.
“What kind of music do you like?” he asked.
Laura chewed the bite in her mouth. “All types and these brussel sprouts are amazing. What do you normally listen to?”
