150 Pounds (14 page)

It was crowded, but the room was big enough that the twenty or so people taking the class were assembled in the front on white leather couches and matching chairs. Noah stood in front of a fireplace that gave the room a pleasant smoky aroma. Alexis found herself catching her breath. Noah was very, very tall and even more handsome in person; those coal eyes contrasting with the sleeves of his white cashmere sweater pushed back to showcase his rich, dark skin and sculpted forearms. He wore a pencil behind one ear. He was standing very close to two women who were waving cookbooks around and asking him questions. He appeared to be listening deeply, nodding his head as they spoke. Alexis could tell by their happy demeanor that they couldn’t care less about the program. They were just happy to talk to Noah.

She walked over to Sarah and Carlos. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like a flash of annoyance ran over Sarah’s face as she approached but she quickly recovered and gave Alexis a broad smile. Alexis had known both of them for years, but never seen them socially. She felt absurdly shy. As a child she’d beaten people into submission until they were her “friend.” Other than Billy, she didn’t have any other friends. She sometimes wished she had better people skills and wasn’t so neurotic. It was almost as if she couldn’t ever relax enough to not care what other people thought, and she gave off tense vibes. She wasn’t sure how to be perceived differently. Bitchiness was all she knew.

“Hi, Alexis! You look fabulous, as always. Those squats are paying off. Carlos and I were just talking about how we hope the cooking gets started soon. I’m starving!”

“Hi, Sarah, Carlos. I have some edamame in my purse,” Alexis offered, pulling out a small plastic bag and opening it for Sarah. She made a mental note to adjust the calories on her phone app later.

“Thanks!” Sarah said, reaching her hand into the offered bag. “I guess I’m going to have to get used to eating all the time. I’m always either watching what I eat or stuffing a ton of protein down my throat for various triathlons. Eating more moderately is going to take some getting used to, so I think I’ll learn a lot tonight.”

“I was just hoping to be taught some good dishes to impress the girls,” Carlos said, and Sarah punched him in the arm. He was wearing a hot pink netted tank top over a white wife-beater and jeans. Alexis could never tell if Carlos was gay or straight. He dressed pretty flamboyantly, but he was always flirting with her when she checked in at the front desk. He seemed to just simply like everyone.

“Do you ever not think with little Carlos?” Sarah asked. “You’re just like my husband, with sex on the brain twenty-four/seven.”

“Shhhhh, I think he’s getting started,
mamacitas
. Pay attention.” He put his arms around Sarah and Alexis, turning them both toward the front of the room.

A murmur went through the crowd as some of the women began taking their seats. Looking around, Alexis saw most had taken as much care as she had with choosing their outfits. She saw short skirts, high heels, expertly done makeup, tasteful jewelry. She crossed her arms. Noah might be hot, but she was here to learn recipes for
Skinny Chick.
Not to be suckered into drooling all over this guy, who probably had a big ego, what with all these women fawning over him.

“Hello, hello,” he was saying, as people wrapped up their conversations. He had a warm baritone. He ran a hand through his curls, making some hair stand up on its own. He had two-day-old stubble, which bothered Alexis. If you’re teaching a class, is it too much trouble for you to shave your face? She admitted it gave him a handsome kind of rustic outdoorsy look, but still. She didn’t tolerate anyone who wasn’t neat, like her—and a chef, no less!

“I’d just like to take a moment to thank everyone for coming to my cooking class tonight. I know a lot of you have families and it’s difficult to get away.”

“Not if you force your husband to watch the kids!” the red-haired, freckly woman who was sitting near Alexis shouted out.

“What is this, bingo night?” she whispered to Carlos, who choked on the iced coffee he was drinking. He loved Alexis. She was such a
diva
. Alexis got a pad of paper from her purse and started jotting down notes.

Noah laughed. He had a goofy laugh, a deep sound that was too dorky for a man so handsome. It sounded like the mating call of some exotic bird. Alexis found herself wondering if people teased him about it.

“Good for you,” he was saying, nodding. “I know how important it is for some of you to have a night off from child care, and I promise you that I will be teaching the wonders and beauty of cooking low-fat, healthy chili. It’s a recipe I perfected while hiking the Appalachian Trail. I ran out of food and had to borrow ingredients from other hikers. This recipe I hope to use someday when I open my own restaurant.” He chuckled humbly. “
If
I ever open up my own restaurant. It’s called Noah’s Nasty Chili, and it’s got a
major
spicy kick. So hold on to your seats, everyone! And be sure to drink lots of water!”

He gave a brief bio of his work, from helping in restaurants in Colorado where he was from, to his experience in various New York restaurants with names Alexis was impressed by.

A few oohs and aahs from the audience.

“Also, while we work we’ll be sipping some of my organic beer, which I make in my apartment in Brooklyn. Trust me, it’s worth the calories!”

Hmmm. Very few things were worth the calories. Alexis would skip the beer.

“He can come over to my place and cook for me anytime,” a woman standing nearby whispered to her friend.

There were the sounds of shuffling feet as people formed groups around the gleaming stoves in the center of the room.

“Right! So I’ll start passing out the ingredients, which I got at the Union Square farmers’ market this morning,” said Noah. He stood in the middle of his audience. Alexis was sitting on a low stool and he was so tall she had to crane her neck up to see him. He continued, “Always buy vegetables when they’re in season, not when they have to be imported.”

Alexis sighed loudly. So far she wasn’t learning anything she didn’t know. She’d blogged just recently about the importance of buying local and attending farmers’ markets, and accompanied the entry with pictures of her wearing an adorable striped sailor dress she’d bought used at Tokio 7 and holding up squashes, zucchinis, and plums. She’d posted a picture of Billy with dark circles under his eyes. (He really did need to get more sleep.) She made a mental note to tell him. He held two coconuts as mock breasts on his skinny chest like a Hawaiian hula girl’s bra. Alexis giggled every time she saw the picture.

Also, she didn’t think making chili or drinking beer were very healthy, or appropriate for a gym cooking class. But she’d already paid the money, so she might as well learn something. If nothing else, it was fun to hang out socially with Sarah and Carlos.

Just before Noah went around the room passing out various foods, he flipped a large chalkboard over like a somersault in the front of the room. He’d drawn the ingredients in chalk, which included wasabi sauce and a few alarming-sounding hot peppers … and was that
scorpion sauce
? What the hell? At the bottom he wrote in all caps, =
NOAH’S NASTY CHILI
, like it was a math equation. That equal sign endeared him just a little to Alexis. It looked so determined up there. So complete, like Noah really cared about each person here adding up all the ingredients and ending up with piping hot chili. She cocked her head and peered at him closer. Her blunt, chic bob swayed forward. The lights on the ceiling glowed, a shimmery ring.

Noah had dropped off small silver bowls with colorful handfuls of ingredients. Carlos was fidgeting with the dials to turn on the stove. “This is about the only thing I can’t turn on,” he muttered, making Sarah and Alexis giggle.

Alexis picked up various shiny instruments that were lying on the table, like they were performing an operation. There seemed to be different-shaped knives, a few tools made from wood, and something that must be for pressing garlic. Or an egg. She wasn’t very savvy in the kitchen, having never cooked before.

She leaned toward Sarah. “Can I help do something?” she asked.

“Sure!” Sarah’s brow was furrowed. She clearly had no idea what she was doing, either. Yeesh. You’d think this Noah character would give a little more instruction. Right now he was standing with another nearby group of all women, laughing and touching one on the shoulder. Alexis rolled her eyes. She’d never learn how to make healthy chili at this rate.

Sarah handed her one of the shiny knives from the table. “Want to chop these onions here into small pieces? If the knife doesn’t work you can bash them with this wooden mallet thingy. Just be careful, the knife is really sharp.”

Carlos looked over from where he was now washing cilantro in the small sink attached to their island counter. “Hey, you can use the mallet on Aldo if he doesn’t do diaper duty!”

“Totally!” Sarah responded, laughing and pushing her dark curls off her face.

“Hey, so what the hell do you think scorpion sauce is?” Alexis asked. “It sounds really weird. I can’t imagine it makes for very good chili. What are we, living on top of a mountain or something?”
I’m trying too hard
, she thought. She was trying to be funny, but she had a bit of a Valley girl voice and the joke came out sounding bitchy.

“Beats me,” Sarah responded cheerfully. “Can’t wait to find out, though. Maybe it will clear up my sinuses. I’ve had really bad allergies lately.”

Alexis began chopping, wondering if Billy had recorded
The Real Housewives of New York City.
She hoped so. She’d shown him how to work the TV but half the time he came home from either a shoot or work tipsy and would press all the wrong buttons. Plus, he’d gotten red nail polish on the remote and she couldn’t get it off, so the play button stuck. She was lost in thought.

The hum of chatter was all around her, women’s laughter. Music was playing, something by Bob Marley that Alexis didn’t know the title of. Just as she was starting to enjoy the class despite the unusual ingredients, she suddenly felt a sharp pain on her right hand, like someone had bitten her.

“Oh, honey, you’re bleeding!” Carlos exclaimed, walking quickly to her side and taking her small hand in his own. Sarah looked down, and indeed, she’d cut herself pretty deeply.

“Oh!” she said, as though the screaming-red blood now coursing over her finger and wrist had surprised her somehow. Like the knife had betrayed her.

Suddenly a flock of women crowded around her, fussing over her finger, which Alexis realized with alarm was looking worse by the second.

“Here’s some paper towels!”

“Put pressure on it!”

“Lay on your back and hold your legs up in the air!” Carlos shouted.

“That’s when you’re trying to get pregnant, dumbass!” Sarah shot back. “And I should know!”

Alexis found herself giggling, despite the situation. She probably should have eaten more than a few slices of turkey breast for dinner. Blood was seeping out of the paper towel Carlos had wrapped around her finger and dripping onto the floor.
So much for super absorbency
, she thought. Her finger pulsed in time with her heartbeat, a steady rhythm.

She felt a pair of strong hands wrap around her shoulders, and just as she realized how dizzy she was, she found herself staring into the warmest pair of chocolate-brown eyes she’d ever seen.

“Let me take you to the hospital,” Noah said in a calm, steady voice.

“You’d make a good politician,” Alexis told Noah, slightly giddy from the blood loss. She suddenly felt like being silly. “Like, okay, America, stay calm. Lock your doors. Go under your house into the bunker and lay on the floor.” She giggled even more. Carlos and Sarah exchanged a worried look. Alexis never acted silly. She must be near death.

But Noah frowned. “My car’s parked just out front. I think you’re going to need stitches.”

“You can’t just leave your own class,” Alexis said meekly. Sarah found a white towel and wrapped it around Alexis’s finger.

“My class, my responsibility,” he said firmly.

“We can hold the class next week instead,” Carlos told Noah. “There’s an opening during the week.”

“Done,” Noah said definitively.

And before she could protest any more she was being ushered up the aisle between stoves and felt hands clap her gently on the shoulder from all the women in the class as Noah led her gently by the elbow through the room and out the doors.

His rusty blue Subaru was parked in front of the gym, a small detail which Alexis was grateful for, as she really was beginning to feel quite dizzy. She’d bled a trail through the gym as they walked.

“Uh, what’s that?” Alexis asked, gesturing to a yellow boot on Noah’s right front wheel, which was quite deflated.

“Oh, I just put that on so I can park wherever I want,” Noah said distractedly, as he removed it and threw it through the back window. There was an orange kayak strapped to the roof.

“So it’s like a fake boot?” Alexis asked.

“Yeah.” He quickly unlocked her door for her before running around to his side and sliding behind the wheel. He was so tall his head touched the roof.

Alexis was amused. She liked people who beat the system.

Maps and water bottles were strewn everywhere, and the car smelled distinctly of
dog
.

“I figured I’d take you to NYU, it’s close,” he said. He drove quickly, never hesitating before turning or looking in the mirror. He drove
forcefully,
Alexis thought. She imagined him in bed, bossing her around. She had to look out the window at a wet New York evening to avoid smiling, despite the pain in her finger.

“What?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Oh! Nothing,” she said. “Just thinking about … chili.”

He shot her an odd look.

“How’s the finger?” he asked. He had an old-school CD system in his car, the kind one had in high school where the deck pops out so no one can steal it. He pressed play and strains of Phish rang out.