Chapter 3
Jonas
I was watching the clock, hurriedly finishing my case notes so I could leave on time. Half the office was already gone, and with Dave still on his mini “vacation,” I’d managed to get a lot more paperwork done than usual. It had been a hard week, but I had managed to make a few breakthroughs with some of my most troubled kids, and one teen had even earned her way back into the traditional high school.
I had high hopes that she would stay there, and for the first time since she’d entered the alternative schooling program, she seemed committed to making a change in her life. “If only I could get through to more of them,” I muttered, then smiled when I caught Rose watching me from the cubicle across the aisle. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
She laughed. “I totally get it. We all come into this job wanting to make a difference.”
“What happens then?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Some of us get stuck in a rut and feel like there’s never an end in sight, and then there are people like you. You have a gift with these kids, Jonas. Case workers like you come along once in a blue moon.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I mean it. After the week I’ve had, I need to hear that I’m making a difference.”
“You really are. And what about your son? How is he doing in high school? What’s he in, eleventh grade?”
“Tenth.”
“He acts so grown.”
“He really does, but he knows how to play the game. He gets good grades, he’s the model citizen when it counts, and he flies under the radar when he messes up.”
“I can’t imagine Eddie doing anything wrong,” she insisted.
I had to laugh. “You and everyone else. But really, he’s a good kid, and even when he’s stepping out of line, it’s nothing big.”
“After what you deal with here, I’m not surprised that Eddie’s mistakes pale by comparison.”
“They really do,” I said, closing the last file and putting it in my outbox with a huge sigh. “Done.”
“Big plans this weekend?”
“Tonight. In an hour, in fact." I grabbed my jacket and stood, smiling apologetically. “I’d love to chat, but I have to be at a cooking class.”
“Enjoy!” she said.
I rushed out the door and hurried home, changing quickly and tossing my debit card across the kitchen bar to Eddie. “Gina is coming as soon as she gets out of class. Can you handle ordering dinner?”
He rolled his eyes. “Just go. Have fun. And try not to be so judgmental.”
I mock saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
He was still laughing when I left. I almost called him to make sure he would be all right for an hour until Gina got there, but I fought the urge. Rose was right; Eddie was a good kid, and even his worst was nothing, compared to what I’d seen. I knew I could trust him alone for an hour.
“You paid for this class, and you’re going to enjoy it,” I told my reflection, running my fingers through my hair one last time before I pulled into the parking lot and followed the group of men making their way down a long hall to the classroom, ingredients already set out on each table.
“Come in, come in,” a friendly man in an apron called out, motioning us closer. “Everyone grab a pen and write your name on a sticker so we know who you are. Then pick a date, and pick a table.”
The man’s happiness was contagious. I was grinning like a fool by the time I found myself face to face with a stunningly gorgeous blond with startling blue eyes. I stuck my hand out. “I’m Jonas,” I said.
“Your name tag says the same thing,” the guy said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
“And yours says that your name is Lance." I smiled, and he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. I watched him until he sighed and opened them again, the same muted smile working its way across his passive face.
This is going to be a fun night, I thought. It was a struggle not to roll my eyes.
I could hear Eddie’s voice in the background, reminding me not to judge someone too quickly. But we were off to a rocky start, and we hadn’t even started cooking yet. We listened carefully to the teacher as he explained the steps that were laid out on index cards at each table. When he was finished, he set a timer, and we went to work on the appetizer.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had caprese-stuffed portobellos before,” I said. “This is pretty exciting.”
He was looking at the index card, his face falling into a scowl that seemed all too natural. “This isn’t how I would do it, but I guess if the outcome is the same, it’s not important to some people how we get there.”
He shrugged, and I groaned inwardly. It was just my luck that I would meet someone like Lance on my first date as the new-and-improved, less-judgmental Jonas.
It was going to be a long class.
I glanced at the other tables, envious of the smiling partners who seemed to be enjoying themselves while Lance brooded over the instructions one last time before getting started. He didn’t ask for my help, and he didn’t appear to realize that my attention was elsewhere. And when I picked up the orange and red cherry tomatoes, he stopped me.
“I’ve got that,” he said, his tone short.
“I’d like to help.”
“It’s easier if I just do it. These instructions are all wrong.”
I rolled my eyes, but Lance wasn’t looking at me. He was too busy running the show, completely oblivious.
My eyes roamed, stopping at the table across from us, where a man with shoulder-length, wavy brown hair and a trimmed goatee was trying to walk his partner through the steps. His partner was frazzled, too uptight and worried about messing everything up.
“It’s no big deal,” the man with the goatee said. “If it’s not perfect, it will still taste good.”
The other man fretted, but I wasn’t paying much attention to him. I was watching the man with the goatee as he effortlessly guided the anxious man through the recipe with the patience of a saint. He caught me watching him and smiled, winking at me across the aisle. My breath caught, and I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed.
They hadn’t. Each couple was concentrating on the task at hand as the timer counted down the minutes.
Lance was still muttering when he put the perfectly-stuffed mushrooms in the mini broiler and set the timer. He watched them intently, ignoring me completely. I looked up at the teacher, surprised to see him watching me.
He smiled at me then clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “When the appetizers are done, feel free to switch partners and get to know a new face. In fact, I insist that we trade partners for the next course.”
I caught the goateed man’s eye again, and he nodded with a huge grin on his face. The timer on his broiler went off and he pulled the dish out, laughing at the sad state it was in.
Lance removed our appetizer, producing four picture-perfect mushrooms filled to just the right level with alternating-colored tomatoes. “That’s beautiful,” I offered, not sure what else I could say.
The teacher saved the day, hollering to be heard over the crowd. “Switch partners,” he called out.
I quickly thanked Lance for cooking with me and moved to join the bearded man at the other table. Lance shrugged and stood motionless, waiting for someone else to join him.
“I think you dodged a bullet,” the man said, holding out his hand. “I’m Arthur.”
Arthur
After I’d introduced myself, I held his hand for a moment longer than I needed to, looking into his hazel eyes and wondering where he’d been all my life.
“Jonas,” the man said, then laughed. “I guess you could just read my name tag.”
“I like hearing you say it,” I said.
He smiled, then looked at my hand. I could feel myself blush as I let him go. “Sorry,” I muttered, laughing nervously. “I haven’t done this in a while.”
“How long?”
“About seven years.”
His eyes widened, and then the chef clapped his hands again. We listened intently to the instructions before he set the timer again, then started working, dividing the ingredients up as naturally as we would have if we’d been cooking together for years.
My heart fluttered, and I caught myself smiling foolishly at him more than once. The table across from us caught my attention, and I leaned over so only he could hear me. “I can see your former date hasn’t figured out what ran you off.”
He looked over at the other table and grimaced. “Is there anything worse than a control freak?”
“Not really.”
He smiled, then went back to stirring the base for our Alfredo sauce. I watched him work, then grabbed a yellow bell pepper and started slicing it like the instructor had showed us.
“Seven years?" His tone was nonchalant, but I knew better. It wasn’t the first time I’d been asked.
“Nothing happened,” I said. “I just have a lot on my plate, and a relationship wasn’t a priority.”
“And now?" He looked at me, still stirring the contents of the pan, his hazel eyes boring into my very soul.
A shiver passed through me. He was so handsome, those eyes set off by dark-brown hair, and that smile was to die for. But it wasn’t just that.
He was so calm and steady. It was clear that Jonas was a man who owned his life, and that effortless balance was just so sexy.
When he chuckled, then elbowed me playfully, I realized I’d been staring. “Oh, right,” I said. “Sorry, what was the question?”
“Is a relationship a priority now?”
“It depends on the guy. I still have a lot going on, but it’s time I put a little more effort into making sure that I’m taken care of. My son is a teenager, and pretty soon he’ll be out of the house. I don’t want to be left wondering why I didn’t date sooner.”
“A teenager?”
I froze, taking a deep breath. I hadn’t meant to bring Leo up, at least not on the first date. But it was out there, and I prepared myself for rejection.
I was still tense when he laid a hand on my arm, the heat from his touch shooting up my body and creating an intense reaction. It was almost too much.
He pulled away and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be too forward; I just recognize that look. I’ve had it myself a few times. You see, I have a teenaged son, too. I get it.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “I do. He’s fifteen, and he’s my world. I totally understand.”
“Wow. I wouldn’t have expected that.”
He tilted his head. “Why not?”
“You just seem so young.”
“I’m thirty-five.”
“What do you do for work?”
“I work with at-risk youth at the alternative school.”
I cringed inwardly, but pressed on. For once, I wasn’t going to let Leo’s bad choices get under my skin. There were a lot of teachers at that school. The chances of this man running into Leo were pretty slim, especially if I managed to keep my son from getting expelled.
“Does your son go to the high school?”
“Yes. He’s in tenth grade, all A.P. and Honors classes." Jonas beamed, his pride in his son’s accomplishments obvious. “At this rate, he’ll spend his senior year taking a few college courses.”
“That’s exciting. Leo is in tenth grade, too. He’s a little more laid back about school, but he’s making it.”
“Don’t think that I had anything to do with Eddie’s drive. He’s been an overachiever since he first learned to walk. Every kid is different. What about Leo? What does he like?”
“Video games.”
Jonas shook his head, laughing. “Eddie does, too. I don’t like it, but I let it go because he’s a good student.”
We both went silent, taking in deep breaths and letting them out almost simultaneously. We worked silently for a few moments, putting the rest of the sauce together while Jonas checked the linguine.
Jonas laughed, a little nervously. “This is going better than I’d hoped,” he said.
“It is for me, too.”
The timer went off, and the teacher demonstrated how to plate our food, then started working his way around the classroom to check our progress. I held my plate out for Jonas. He piled the linguine high and placed one of the messily-stuffed mushrooms on the plate.
“Sorry, they’re a little wonky.”
“They look delicious." He poured sauce on the plates, and I took the fresh basil, carefully arranging it like the teacher had, then sprinkled some freshly-grated parmesan cheese on it.
I finished just in time for the teacher to reach our table. “Excellent,” he said. “You two make a good team.”
He winked at us, then left to chat with the next table. I looked at the clock, aware that time was quickly getting away from me. If I was going to take a chance, I had to take it now.
“Listen, I’ve really enjoyed this. I know we just met, but we have so much in common, and I was thinking, maybe we could get together again?”
I waited, holding my breath. Then Jonas nodded, and relief flooded through me. “Sounds good,” he said. “Can I have your phone?”
I handed it over, and he put his number in my contacts, then sent himself a text before handing the phone back. “Just like that?” I said, with a huge grin.
“Just like that,” he said, then he looked at the meal in front of us and smiled. “We worked hard on all this. Let’s eat.”
The first bite was heaven, but it was nothing compared to the thrill that went through me when I realized that we’d committed to a second date. Just like that.