Cook the Books

you want us?” Owen looked around my cramped kitchen.
    “I think it might make sense to send you and Kyle into the living room. You can prep all the vegetables and fruit that we’ll need there. Just move whatever’s on the coffee table onto a chair. Here,” I said, reaching behind my toaster, ' “take this cutting board and the two from the table. Kyle, is everything washed?”
    “Yup, just about.” Kyle handed Owen a colander filled with ingredients and then grabbed the stack of bowls I’d set out for him. “We’ll chop, slice, and dice, and be ready in no time.”
    “And, here, take this.” I gave Kyle a large serving bowl that held the ingredients for the aloha salad dressing. “Ade and I will work on the stromboli filling, the pork loin, and the swordfish.”
    “Hey, Chloe?” Kyle said softly.
    “Yeah?”
    “Thanks for doing all of this. I know you have a lot going on with school and your internship, and maybe this job is more than you bargained for. But I’m really grateful for your help.” He followed Owen to the makeshift prep station in the living room.
    “Well, well.” Adrianna shot me a questioning look. Almost whispering, she asked, “What’s going on between you two?”
    I shook my head. “Nothing,” I murmured. “He’s my boss.”
    “Yeah, right,” she said with a laugh. “We’ll talk later.”
    Adrianna was great in the kitchen. In particular, she helped me follow the recipes exactly as they were written; if we improvised, we’d be playing with the recipes rather than testing them. So far, I’d found no glaring errors in what the chefs had written, and I expected tonight’s dishes to be successful. Adrianna talked about Patrick: he was growing so quickly and doing something new every day. We could hear Owen and Kyle talking in the background, and I was pleased that the two were getting along so well. This was a fun foursome we had tonight. Maybe it would become a regular thing?
    “Chloe, do you want to come taste this dressing?” Kyle called.
    I joined the men and surveyed their progress. Bowls were spread out on the table, and they’d done pretty well slicing and dicing the ingredients. Then I eyed the bowl of dressing that Kyle held out. “Oh my. That’s quite a bit of dressing.”
    “Yeah, the recipe made a large amount, but it’s good. I actually ran out of lemons to juice, but it’s good anyway.”
    I saw Owen’s eyes widen as I dipped a spoon into the bowl and took a taste. Oh God! I puckered my lips. “It’s rather... acidic.”
    “You think? I like it. I followed the recipe. Look,” he said as he held out the typed page. “Oh, wait. Oops. I thought it said three cups of lemon juice.”
    “That would explain it. It’s supposed to be one-third cup of lemon juice.” I smiled falsely. “No problem. I have a few more lemons in the fridge, so we can make another batch.’ I retrieved the lemons and handed them to Owen, hoping that he’d get the hint to keep an eye on Kyle. I laughed inwardly at the idea of putting Owen in charge of anything even remotely related to cooking, but clearly Kyle needed supervision, and even Owen wouldn’t use three cups of lemon juice when a recipe called for a third of a cup. I could hardly believe that anyone, never mind a cookbook writer and Hank Boucher’s son, had failed to notice the overwhelming taste of lemon in the dressing. Worse, Kyle had told me that the dressing was good! What kind of palate did he have? Ugh. Did he have a palate at all?
    Despite the dressing mishap, I was having a good time. Adrianna was putting the pork loin into the oven and I was just about to fill the stromboli dough when the phone rang. “Hello, Chaos Central!” I chirped happily.
    “Hi.” There was a long pause. “It’s me.”
    My stomach tightened and I swallowed hard. It was the call I’d been both longing for and dreading. It was Josh. He must have gotten my new cell number from someone. I strongly suspected Ade or Owen. “Oh. Hi.”
    “How you doin’?” The sound of his voice practically knocked the wind out of me.
    “Um... fine.” I saw that Adrianna was staring at me. I could feel my cheeks heat up and wondered whether my best friend could hear my heart pounding. “Hold on a second.” I went into the hallway. I couldn’t go to the living room, where Owen and Kyle would overhear, or to the bedroom, where Patrick was sleeping. That left the bathroom. As I stepped onto the tile floor, Kyle let out a sharp cry.