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“We should figure out a plan for after the show is over in that case,” Gabe suggests, and we agree. “For now, I think setting her up with a condo that’s central to us makes the most sense.”
“If that’s what she wants,” Bennet pipes in.
“Yes, of course. She’ll have the final say on everything, but it might be nice to give her some options in the morning, don’t you think?”
Again, we nod amongst ourselves and get to work planning our life afterHeart’s Desire. And suddenly, I’m extremely excited about the future.
All that protects my bare chest from bacon sizzling on the open stove is an apron which reads, “Hot Stuff Coming Through.”
Gabe yawns at the dining room table for the eighth time in two minutes, even though he’s the last one of the three of us to rise that morning—and only because Bennet had to get him out of bed.
“Should I go get Stella?” Bennet asks before Gabe can complain about the early hour again.
But before anyone can say anything, the door to her bedroom opens, and she emerges in a pair of fuzzy pink pajama bottoms and a matching halter that shows off every curve of her luscious form. She blinks at us from the railing as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing. She rubs her eyes and runs a hand through her disheveled dark hair.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Making breakfast, of course,” I reply pleasantly. “Come and eat.”
She stares at me in disbelief, her eyes lingering on my biceps as she makes her way down the stairs. “I didn’t even know you could cook, Forrest.”
“I guess we all have a lot to learn about one another, don’t we?” I reply as Bennet holds a chair out for her. Her head moves toward the door, suspicion clouding her eyes as if she’s expecting the cameramen, but I reassure her we’re alone. “You don’t have to look so freaked out,” I promise. “It’s just breakfast before we fly down to LA for the day.”
She stands and turns to the kitchen.
“Woah, sit down. What do you need?” Gabe demands, suddenly wide awake. “We’re treating you this morning.”
She plays with a strand of her hair. “Coffee… please.”
Gabe takes charge as she reclaims her seat.
“I don’t understand,” she says, her voice dragging.
I skillfully remove the bacon from the pan and transfer it onto a plate.
“You don’t understand breakfast?” I tease, laying out the strips with the eggs and pancakes I’ve already made. Toast pops up as we’re speaking, and I hurry to deal with it.
“No, I just…” Stella trails off and glances at us nervously.
“Forrest thought you were going to need extra strength today,” Gabe explains. “We all will if we’re meeting the producers.”
“What do you think this is all about?” Stella asks worriedly. “Are we in trouble again?”
“Nah,” I say, certain it’s nothing like that. “We’re getting to the end of the contract. It’s pretty standard to meet at this point and ensure progress.”
“Okay,” she breathes, eying me gratefully. “You shouldn’t have gone through all this trouble, though.”
“It’s no trouble,” I say. “I like cooking, and I don’t really get enough opportunities to do it.”
“Really?” Gabe says slowly. “Maybe you should open a restaurant. All the celebs are doing it now.”
I snort and take my place across from Stella. “Right. I really have time to run a restaurant.”
“You would run it about as much as I run my breweries. I could help you. And you could pop in from time to time and cook. It would drum up sales,” Gabe says. “I saw how much you were getting a kick out of barbecuing and helping make dinner.”
“Let’s just make it out of this studio meeting alive today, and then we can talk about other business ventures,” I chuckle.
Stella watches our light banter, her eyes shining as Bennet digs into his stack of pancakes. For a few minutes, we forget that we’re not a bunch of friends, enjoying a meal, but as usual, our bubble is burst when someone pounds on the door.
