Keep helping

You take the hint with a slow, appreciative grin, but instead of crowding back into her immediate space, you step back and walk around to the opposite side of the central prep island. The wide, polished wooden counter now sits between you, giving you the perfect vantage point to openly admire her.

You wash your hands at the sink, dry them with a linen towel, and pull the cutting board with the garlic toward you, never breaking eye contact for more than a second.

“Alright, I can play by the rules,” you say, picking up a heavy flat-bladed knife to crush the first clove. “But looking from over here, I have to say, the uniform policy at Whispering Pines is definitely overdue for an upgrade.”

Lauren keeps her focus on the zucchini, but the persistent flush on her cheeks and the slight, amused twitch at the corner of her lips give her away. “Oh really? And what exactly does this upgraded host uniform look like in your mind, Mark?”

“Well, for starters, that apron,” you tease, resting your forearms on the edge of the island and leaning forward. “It’s efficient, sure. But I’m realizing it hides far too much of the view. I think the new regulations should require just the apron. No shirt, no shorts. Just a chef’s apron and a smile while you’re working the line.”

Lauren lets out a soft, startled laugh, her knife slipping slightly on a slice of squash. She stops, pointing the tip of the blade at you in a mock warning, though her eyes are bright with playful defiance.

“You are terrible,” she chimes in, shaking her head as she tries to regain her rhythm. “If I did that, the garlic would be the least of your concerns. You wouldn’t get a single thing done today, let alone finish chopping that pile in front of you.”

“Try me,” you murmur, meeting her gaze with an easy, confident smile as you smoothly slice through the crushed garlic. “I’m an excellent multi-tasker. I can appreciate fine art and do prep work at the exact same time.”

She bites her lip, her eyes dipping down your frame for a brief second before she looks back up, matching your bold tone. “Is that so? Well, keep up that pace, Mark. Because the faster those vegetables are prepped, the faster I might actually consider letting you see what’s underneath the apron up upstairs.”