Hungry for Love (4 page)

His accent almost impenetrable
,
he shrieked
,
“
It is unthinkable! I have cut my finger.  My knife is dull.  I have a dull knife.  Can I truly be a man with a dull knife
?”

Angie grabbed a towel
,
and gently wrapped his hand in it
,
holding it tenderly
,
although the laceration had produced a virtually imperceptible quantity of blood.

“
You
’
re a great man.  Nobody is better than you with chiles.
”

Comforted
,
Raul nodded
,
clicking his heels together and saying
,
“
Yes
,
true!  And I will set you on fire like a roasted jalapeno.
”
  Reaching for the sprig of basil he
’
d previously flung on the counter
,
he pressed it between his teeth as though it were a rose
,
and lurched into an arrhythmic flamenco
,
whisking the towel off his hand and snapping it at Angie
,
who watched it all wide eyed and silent.

With a gesture that far exceeded grand
,
Raul swept the ingredients off the counter
,
pressing Angie against it
,
kissing her passionately.  She was dazzled.  This great man did like—perhaps love—her.  Oh
,
she thought
,
oh
,
yes
,
I am his pet.  Closing her eyes and sinking into a sensation of deep bliss
,
Angie stood there lost in the moment and wanting it never to end.

Raul spoke.
“
Wait my darling.
”

Angie
’
s eyes snapped open.  Oh no.  He was coming to his senses.  He was going to send her home.  But no—he didn
’
t—he just reached over to turn off the burner.

And then they were lying on the counter
,
heaving and moaning against each other.  As Raul began to untie her apron and remove her clothes
,
he muttered
,
barely able to speak because his words were interspersed with heaving and panting. 
“
You are so beautiful
,”
he gasped
,
“
You are like the tiny threads of saffron
,
begging to be warmed.  Like the most exotic Tahitian vanilla
,
and I will open your pod
,
liberate your sweet aromas.
”

But before pretty much anything could be liberated
,
they were greeted by a group of astonished students
,
who didn
’
t dare enter the room but couldn
’
t manage to look away.  Their clothes flung on the floor
,
Angie and Raul each grabbed a chef
’
s toque and attempted to regain their modesty while the students laughed and Raul snarled
,
“
Get out of here
,
you mangy dishwashers
,”
  except he said it in Spanish so nobody understood or obeyed.

Angie snapped out of her reverie and turned to Ben
,
“
Okay yes that was humiliating.
”

“
And he was just a stand in for…
”
asked Ben.

“
Gordon Ramsay
?”
laughed Angie. 
“
C
’
mon they
’
re ready for us.
”
  Ben followed Angie to the pedicure station and winced as the girl tickled his feet.

“
Just hold on and bear down
,”
said Angie.

“
I
’
m not giving birth
,”
he snapped
,
shivering a little and pulling his feet away from the determined woman who kept reaching for them. 
“
I can
’
t believe you go through this rigamarole every week just to see a doctor.
”

Angie sighed. 
“
I really think Dr. Flicker—Kevin—has a thing for me.  So please stop implying it
’
s some wacky infatuation. I know what I
’
m doing this time.  It
’
s real. I
’
m not a kid in school any more.  And I need you to believe in me.
”

Ben shook his head sadly. 
“
I
’
ve believed in you since we met in third grade.  I just want to protect you.  To….
”
  Ben blushed and stopped speaking as Angie smiled at him.

“
You can be my best man—er….
”

They both leaned back in their chairs as green masques were applied to their faces and then Ben watched Angie follow a woman into a closed room marked
Waxing.
When she yelped loudly from inside
,
he crossed his legs and grimaced.

Chrissy loved the way her feet felt as they skimmed across the sidewalks.  She was in the Zone.  The whole Zone idea didn
’
t make much sense to her
,
but wherever it was
,
she was in it.  She could run for a very long time and the more she ran
,
the farther she felt like running.  Her breath came in even strokes and her heart pumped perfectly.  She
’
d gone an extra mile and didn
’
t even feel the strain.  She could run
,
relax and look at the scenery.  There were nothing but beautiful houses here
,
perfectly maintained landscapes to become the backdrops for all the people who lived inside these elegant
,
very expensive homes.  And now she was one of them.  It was such a far cry from when she was a nothing little sales girl at Godiva—merely thinking the name made her shudder inside.  All that de… she couldn
’
t even think the word let alone say it.  But Bill had come along like Sir Galahad and had rescued her and now here she was
,
living the life she had always wanted.

She ran smoothly to his—her—front door and opened it
,
and maximizing on endorphins
,
ran right into what used to be a tastefully appointed family room.  The soft blue and taupe hues were very welcoming.  The cottage style cushy sofa and chairs faced a big flat screen television
,
tastefully hidden inside an armoire crafted of reclaimed wood.  Artistically painted and distressed tables sat before and beside the couch.  It was at once elegant and comfortable
,
a place where a family could feel at home and not worry about making a mess yet which could host visitors who would look around and nod approvingly. 

And now
,
it was her gym.  She had managed to fit all the exercise equipment she wanted right into the den.  The family could work out together.  They didn
’
t
,
but they could.  She was the wife—well the girlfriend—of a
Beverly Hills
doctor and that required she look the part.  She dug in her purse
,
quickly downed two over the counter diet pills as well as two special Chinese herbal pills
,
thinking if only she had the real thing
,
the thing that would make all the difference.  Doubling her dosage on these pills was barely doing the job
,
but at least she wasn
’
t a victim to all those old cravings.  She just wasn
’
t thinner.

Not wanting to lose any momentum
,
Chrissy grabbed her boxing gloves and stuffed her hands inside.  Whack
,
whack
,
whack.  She began socking the punching bag in the corner.  Dancing and lurching and whacking.  A kick.  Another kick.  She loved the feel of it.  When people said she worked out like a cheetah on acid
,
she took it as a compliment.  Exercise made it so much easier to stay on her diet.  But she hadn
’
t lost so much as a pound in several weeks—how was that even possible
?
  Her plan was to investigate something called negative calorie foods although that seemed like a big lie to Chrissy.  Since when did eating make calories disappear
?
  Wait
,
it must be really disgusting food
,
the kind that made you throw up without having to stick your finger down your throat.  Of course.  Chrissy puzzled over this for a while
,
the music from her iPod rather loud
,
so loud in fact that she didn
’
t hear the phone ringing.

Bill sat in his office
,
having cleared away the crowd of patients in his waiting room and ready for a little lunch break.  His desk was like Kevin
’
s although it contained none of the desk toys Kevin loved.  Seeing those balls crash into each other and bounce back would drive Bill crazy.  And he had no desire for a teeny golf game or a Zen garden either.