Millie
I FLOATED THROUGH THE STOREFRONT, across the kitchen, and into the office in the back I shared with my sisters.
It was a good-size room. Big enough that you could fit three desks, some bookshelves, and a couple chairs. My desk was the smallest, since most of my work was done in the kitchen, with Tasha and Dru having full-size desks, which were always put to use.
While Dru’s was completely covered, and cluttered at all times, Tasha’s was organized and always clean. Dru had an old oak desk with decorating magazines, a large organizer, and swatches all over it, while Tasha’s had a modern feel, with chrome finish and smooth lines.
My desk was shoved up against the corner with a small purple chair tucked under it. It was white and feminine, and held only my recipe cards, cookbooks, and notes full of ideas.
Tasha and Dru had been talking about the wedding reception we had this upcoming Saturday, but when I walked in their heads turned to me and their conversation stopped. Dru’s lips turned up into a grin, and Tasha slapped her hand on the table, causing me to jump out of my daze.
“You didn’t take him to your apartment,” Tasha complained.
I chuckled softly. “You knew that wasn’t going to happen.”
“A girl can dream . . .”
“Something happened though,” Dru said, still grinning. “I’m thinking the only thing that could put that dazzled look on Mills’ face is a big, sloppy kiss.”
“Ooooh,” Tasha exclaimed, scooting forward on her chair and clapping her hands. “Do tell.”
“You guys,” I began, then sighed and spun in a circle, letting my dress flair up, much like I had after my first kiss in high school. “He’s . . . amazing.”
“She’s smitten,” Tasha said, then pushed back and spun her chair in a circle.
“I think you’re right,” Dru agreed, her eyes soft on me. “The girl’s in deep smit.”
Tasha chuckled and I shook my head.
“He teaches Shakespeare and Austen to teenagers . . . He talks about his daughter like she’s a miracle, and he kisses like a dream,” I gushed, then fell in the overstuffed floral chair that was in front of Tasha’s desk with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m in trouble. I really, really like him, and I don’t even know him yet.”
“Why does Millie get all the luck? Perfect boobs, the ability to make people weep with her talent in the kitchen, and now? She’s caught the eye of a swoony, dimple-having, glasses-wearing, romantic, who’s great with kids.” This Dru asked Tasha dramatically, before turning to me and saying, “We shared a womb, you know . . . you could have left something for me.”
I rolled my eyes at my gorgeous, funny, and equally talented twin.
“Pulease,” I replied sarcastically. “The one thing you’ve never lacked, my dear sister, is confidence.”
“True,” Dru said with a shrug, then her expression turned wistful. “But I wouldn’t mind a dreamy stranger walking in off the street and sweeping me off my feet.”
“Maybe if you worked less than eighty hours a week, you’d meet someone,” Tasha said, and I knew she was right. We’d been so focused on building our business and following our dreams, that we’d forgotten to live our lives.
“Maybe it’s time,” I suggested as I sat up in the chair. “We’ve talked about making some of our part-time employee’s full time, and hiring more part time. I know this is our baby and we’ve put everything we had into making it work. But, now that it is working, maybe we should loosen the reins a little and take some time to actually enjoy our success.”
“I am enjoying it,” Dru grumbled, sticking out her lower lip at the thought of having another person taking over the control that she held on to like a lifeline.
“I know you are, honey, but just think about how nice it would be to do something on a day other than Monday. Take in a movie, or maybe go on a dinner date . . .” I suggested, and knew I was busted again when her eyes narrowed on me.
“Mr. Adorable Dimples asked you out to dinner, didn’t he?” she accused.
I nodded slowly.
“So, this isn’t so much about us enjoying our lives, but about you fitting time into your busy schedule to get Dimples in the sack.”
I could feel my face flush as I stammered, “No . . . uh, it’s not that. You know I’m thinking of all of us, not . . . just me . . . and I don’t want that . . . errr, at least, not yet.”
“Calm down, Mills, you know she’s just messing with you,” Tasha said gently, shooting a glare at Dru, before admitting, “You and I both know she’s right. It’s time to grow a little bit and take a little time for ourselves. As much as we love what we’re doing, we’re all exhausted. Plus, if we had a full team, we’d have to turn away less clients. It’s a win/win, Dru.”
“I’ll think about it,” Dru said, which essentially meant she was giving in.
“Yay!” I cried, jumping from my chair and bounding over to lean down and hug my twin. “I’ll talk to Claire about coming on full time when I ask her to cover for me Friday night.”
Claire was my hardest working part-timer in the kitchen, and I knew she’d be a perfect sous chef. She was my first hope for a full-time employee.
“This Friday?” Tasha asked. “Where’s he taking you?”
“Prime Beef,” I replied, too happy to notice Tasha’s scowl at the mention of the restaurant across the street. “I figured I can get almost everything done before four, then head upstairs to get ready and let Claire finish up. Then, maybe I’ll ask Jackson up for dessert.”
“Whoa!” Dru exclaimed, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “Dessert, huh?”
“Bow chica wow wow,” Tasha sang, then started laughing.
“Shut up,” I hissed, hating that I was blushing once again. I hated that I was so much more conservative and easily embarrassed than my sisters, even as a grown woman. “I mean actual dessert. I thought I’d make him my Lemon Crème Brule.”
“One bite, and he’ll never leave . . . I guar-an-tee,” Dru said sweetly, allowing my subject change and having my back, as always.