Waiting for Lisa

The day crawled by in fits and starts. Natalie kept her focus pinned to her screen, but the numbers and campaign notes blurred together more than once, as her mind circled back to that morning. To Aiden. To Lisa.

By late morning, she caught herself staring out the office window instead of finishing the copy she needed to send. She could hear the echo of Lisa’s voice the night before letting her know when she expected to be there, and how she always sounded so bright and cheerful, paired with the memory of Aiden’s groin near her in the kitchen. He’d been close enough that she couldn’t help but notice his reaction to her, or how it left her pulse ramping up. She’d promised Lisa she’d look after him. Instead, she felt like she was unraveling every time the two of them were in the same room.

“Rough night?” Melissa asked from the next desk over leaning back in her chair with a smirk.

Natalie blinked, trying to gather herself. “Oh, uh, just a deadline. I need to get this wrapped up by the afternoon, and I was just thinking about ideas.”

Melissa hummed as if she didn’t quite believe her but turned back to her own monitor. Natalie bit her lip and **** her fingers to get back to work on the keyboard, determined to push through. She needed the distraction, and something besides the swirl of thoughts waiting for her at home.

Natalie buried herself in the work, pushing through the afternoon with only a short break to grab a coffee. The pace helped, and by the time she shut down her computer, she’d managed to claw her way back on top of things. Leaving the office a little earlier than usual felt like its own small victory after so many evenings working at home.

She slid behind the wheel and headed toward the store, mentally running through a checklist of what she’d need for dinner that night. Lisa’s visit pressed at the back of her mind, so that every decision was tinged with the thought of how things would look, and whether the visit would feel normal enough to convince her friend that everything was fine.

By the time she pulled into her parking space, the backseat held two bags of groceries containing the simple staples she’d decided on for dinner. She’d shot Aiden a text from the checkout line, asking him to set out a few things she would need, so he could get started with some simple prep.

When she stepped inside the apartment, the counters showed signs of his effort, with a cutting board out, a bundle of vegetables stacked to one side, a pot and a pan on the stove, and a few spices pulled from their racks. Aiden was leaning against the counter, staring at his phone, but set it down quickly when she came in.

“Got everything?” he asked.

She set the bags down beside him, brushing the hair back from her face. “Yeah, thanks for getting started. Okay, here’s what I need. Go ahead and pound the chicken a bit thinner; the mallet’s in the drawer by the stove. Then get the pot of water going for the pasta, and put the skillet on medium so it’s hot by the time I’m back. I just need to change, so I’ll be quick.”

Aiden blinked, processing, then pulled the drawer open. “Do I need to cover it before I start, or just go at it?”

“Cover it with plastic wrap,” she said, turning toward the hall. “It’ll keep it from making a mess. I don’t want my clean kitchen covered in chicken juice.”

He nodded, quirking his mouth. “Guess that’s why you’re in charge,” he muttered.

“I heard that. And you are correct,” she tossed back with a tease in her voice, before disappearing down the hall.

Left alone, he filled the pot he’d set aside, turning on the stove to get the water going before moving on. He set the skillet on the other side to warm up, then turned to the cutting board. Laying the chicken flat, he covered it with plastic wrap and lifted the mallet with a mix of caution and determination.

The loud thwacks carried through the kitchen. By the time Natalie reemerged in jeans and a blouse, the pot was beginning to steam, the skillet was hot, and the chicken lay in even pieces, ready for her next step.

“Looks good,” Natalie said as she came back in. “Why don’t you go ahead and season those, so we can get them in the pan once it’s hot enough.”

Aiden reached for the spices she’d had him pull out. “You think she’s really gonna want a full dinner after the drive up?” he asked, shaking a light coat over the chicken.

“Of course,” Natalie replied, pulling open the fridge to grab a couple of ingredients, “that’s how she is. She’ll want to sit down, talk, make a night of it. Which means you’re sticking around long enough for dinner before you head out.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a small shrug, watching what she was doing. “I was already planning on it. I don’t want her thinking I’m avoiding her.”

“Good. I’m sure she’s been looking forward to seeing you.” Natalie slid past him to set the ingredients on the counter, then nodded toward the dining area. “You can make yourself useful and set the table before she gets here, while I finish this up.” She slid the cutting board aside and reached for another pan, getting into her groove.

Aiden grumbled something under his breath but did as he was told, collecting plates and silverware. By the time he’d finished laying out glasses and napkins, the smell of garlic and herbs filled the apartment.

A knock sounded at the door just as Aiden set the last glass in place.

“That’ll be her,” Natalie called over the hiss of the pan she was tending to.

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