Cook the Books

pitch-black when I got back to my condo. I cursed November’s early sunsets. The dark seemed to exacerbate depression and make bad moods worse. I briefly considered investing in some sort of bright light to shine on my face; my breakup had probably given me a case of seasonal affective disorder. I let myself in the back door and dropped my notepad on the coffee table. I hadn’t yet typed up today’s client notes and was hoping to have time to complete the task after the recipe-testing dinner party. In fact, because of client confidentiality, I was probably supposed to have left the notes in my office, but I’d wanted to get home as quickly as possible to get ready for Kyle, Adrianna, and Owen. Cooking would be fun and, especially after the day I’d had, my spirits needed lifting
    Danny’s situation was still hanging over me. When I’d talked to my supervisor about him, she’d reminded me that change happens slowly. Even though it was obvious to me that Danny needed to stand up to his father and make decisions for himself, it would take time before he was ready. She reminded me that some cases were inevitably more gut-wrenching than others: for every eye-rolling Alison, there would be a Danny. I was impatient, though, and the urge to rescue him was powerful.
    I fed Gato and Inga, and gave them some cuddles before reviewing the dishes we’d be making tonight. I had two of Digger’s recipes, the one for stromboli and another for pork tenderloin with cranberry glaze, smoked bacon mashed potatoes, and celery root slaw. I’d also chosen a few other recipes ' from Kyle’s research: a pan-seared swordfish with butternut squash risotto, a ragout of Brussels sprouts and wild mushrooms, and a dessert called aloha fruit salad. I’d chosen the salad because Owen, whose cooking skills were more than limited, could help to prepare it without having the opportunity to burn anything. Adrianna and I were solid cooks, and Kyle could presumably hold his own in the kitchen. The combination of dishes was strange, but they wouldn’t all be grouped together in the cookbook as a suggested menu, which we’d have to keep in mind when tasting them.
    I started the stromboli dough, which had to rise for at least an hour. Kyle arrived just as I was setting it in a bowl. He waved at me though the glass window on the back door, and I yelled for him to let himself in. When I smiled and held up my dough-covered hands, he smiled back. Good. Maybe things between us wouldn’t be horribly awkward. For all I knew, he’d even appreciated my enthusiastic, if clumsy, attempt at romance. Tonight could be a romantic evening for all of us. Two couples in the kitchen, whipping up delicious food, maybe sipping some wine....
    Contemplating the possibilities, I struggled to push the Josh situation to the back of my mind. Amazingly, I hadn’t told Adrianna about seeing Josh. Since Ade and I always told each other everything, usually as soon as possible and at great length, it was very unlike me not to have immediately called her up after the emotional reunion. On this occasion, however, I just hadn’t wanted to deal with my feelings about Josh, and a big two-hour talk with Ade about my turbulent emotions and the implications of seeing him would only have made the mess more real. The new Chloe was forging ahead!
    “What are you making, Chloe?” Kyle was dressed casually tonight in a pale blue fitted shirt and jeans. I realized that it was the first time that I’d seen him in anything other than a suit. I wasn’t complaining either.
    “Stromboli dough,” I said. “I thought I’d get it going early since we’ve got so much to do.”
    Kyle followed me into the kitchen, where I showed him the recipes we were going to make.
    “These all look really good,” he said. “I’m glad you were able to get hold of your friend Digger’s recipes, too. We’ll do a nice section on him. I’m sorry again about how my father behaved the morning of the fire. He’s just very focused on getting this book done right, and he wasn’t thinking about anything else.”
    “I’m happy about the food, too. This stromboli is Digger’s, so I’m sure it’ll be good.”
    “So Adrianna is helping us out tonight, too?” Kyle sat down at my small kitchen table, but I immediately grabbed his hand and lifted him up.
    “Yes, help will be here shortly,” I promised. “You’re in charge of washing vegetables, so roll up your sleeves. ”
    “Aw, really? That’s