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Derek laughed with me, offering me his hand to help me up as I finished with my giggling fit.

“I can’t believe I did that.”

He dusted snow off my back and legs while I brushed the front. “How about you keep both hands on the bars from now on?”

“No more racing; I can’t keep up with you.”

“Alright, but let’s do a little off-roading.”

He got back on his bike after helping me on mine, and I followed him as he led me away from the mountain and into a thin layer of trees. We spent the next few hours exploring the woods on the bikes, Derek my unofficial tour guide as he told me about the town and the wildlife nearby.

By the time we returned the bike rentals, my stomach was growling loud enough to cause an avalanche.

“That riding burned off my breakfast sandwich. I’m starving.”

He smiled. “Good. I have the perfect spot.”

I lifted a brow. “Let me guess: it’s a surprise?”

He nodded, and we headed back towards Main Street. Just like bike riding, I knew whatever he had planned, I’d never be able to guess no matter how hard I tried.

“Are you serious?” I asked once we stopped walking, ending up in front of Dej’s Ethiopian Cuisine.

“Yup,” he said, opening the door for me. I sucked in a huge breath and put on my big girl panties. Derek was right; the day’s success depended on my attitude, and I was having a good time so far. I didn’t want to ruin it.

We walked past a huge statue of a lion wearing a crown as we entered the restaurant, and I was immediately immersed into a world completely different than the environment outside.

Ethiopian and African art splashed all across the brightly colored walls. An upbeat, but catchy melody strummed in the air around us as we were shown to our table.

“I would never imagine a place like this here,” I said, studying the decor as we sat. “I definitely didn’t expect this for lunch.”

“I have to keep you on your toes.”

“You’re doing a good job of it so far.”

I’d never eaten Ethiopian food before. I wasn’t a big fan of trying new foods, but I was willing to try if it meant continuing to have a good time with Derek.

After scooting in my chair, I picked up one of the moist towelettes that sat on the otherwise bare table.

“That’s nice of them to offer these. I’d still rather wash my hands, though.”

“I figured.”

A man approached us with menus and glasses of water.

“Good afternoon. I’ll give you a minute to look over your menus.”

I picked mine up right away, scanning the list of dishes I’d never even heard of.

“Have you eaten this before? Or did you choose this place for the shock value?”

He nodded. “It’s one of my favorites. I eat it once or twice a month; fell in love with it after visiting the country.”

My eyebrow rose. “You’ve been to Africa?”

He smiled at my reaction, nodding. “A few times.”

I opened my mouth to barrage him with a ton of questions he probably wouldn't answer, but then the waiter returned.

“Do you need a few more minutes?”

“What would you like?” Derek asked me.

I looked at the menu with a smile on my face, but I wasn’t reading it. I had a better idea.

“Surprise me.”

The day was about trying something new, so why not let him choose? Besides, he was comfortable with the food, so he would be better than me.

He didn’t try to mask the smile on his face as he ordered.

“Yetsom Beyaynetu, kitfo and Tej to start out, please.”

“Of course.”

After ordering, we stood and went to the bathroom to get a proper handwash.

“So, what makes you like this food so much?” I asked after we’d both returned to the table.

He shrugged. “I suppose the memories it invokes, above all else. Different cultures have different views on food. To us, it’s just nourishment for our bodies. A systematic process to keep us alive. But I’ve learned to appreciate it as so much more. It nourishes our mind and spirit as well. Using all of our senses to eat gives us a deeper connection to it. I learned a lot during that trip. I went for business, but it ended up being a much-needed healing experience for me.”

I wanted him to elaborate; I wanted to know what he needed healing from and how the motherland helped him. But I knew well enough to ask. That answer was all the details I was going to get out of Derek Anderson. Our food approached, and even if I wanted to ask, I knew the food would be his distraction away from answering.

The waiter presented us with a large platter in the center of the table. Cabbage with carrots, potatoes with ginger, lentils, peas, some kind of cheese, and a seasoned meat. It looked divine.

I took a sip of the wine before us, and Derek watched my eyes widen in delight.

“It’s good.”

“Tej. Honey wine.”

He pointed to a flat, gray, spongy substance that was under the food on the platter.

“Injera.”

“Huh?”

“Injera. It’s bread. Use it to scoop up the food.”

I searched for utensils. “With my hand?”

“
‘Eating with a fork and knife is like making love through an interpreter.’
Eating is more than just filling your belly; it’s an experience, and all of your senses should be utilized.”

His passion for the mechanics of eating was surprising, considering how he scarfed down most of his meals standing up in the kitchen.

“But-”

He smiled, still trying to sell me on his crazy idea. “Eating with your hands forces you to take your time, instead of shoveling food in your mouth. It makes you mindful of what you’re eating.”

I folded my arms as he explained. I didn’t care what he learned in Africa; eating with my hands seemed preposterous.

“That’s going to be a mess!”

“Here. Look.”

He ripped off a piece of the bread, placed it over some food from the platter to gather up the filling before twisting it up into a neat little pouch.

“Push it in with your thumb. Try not to get your fingers in your mouth.”

He presented it to me, and spices hitting my nostrils made my cavernous stomach growl. I was starving and therefore, done trying to talk sense into him. I looked around, making sure no one was watching before opening my mouth.

“
Gursha
.”

“What?” I asked after I finished chewing the savory bite. Fork or no fork, the food was delicious.

“It’s when you feed someone by hand. It’s a loving act, an act of endearment.”

I smiled as he wiped the corner of my mouth with a napkin before scooping up a larger amount for himself.

I ripped off a piece, trying not to cringe as the light grease coated my fingers. He chuckled as he finished his bite.

“It’s not even that bad.” His eyes widened as he pointed to me with narrow eyes. “You’re one of those people who eats pizza with a knife and fork, aren’t you?”

I paused before answering. “There’s nothing wrong that.”

He continued laughing while preparing another bite. “Weirdo.”

I shook my head, unable to stop my smile from forming. He pointed to a section of the platter.

“Try that.”

I scooped up a pathetic helping inside of the injera.

“So, how many countries have you been to?”

He shrugged. “Many. More than I ever thought possible. You’d have to check my passport. I’m constantly traveling.”

“For business?”

“And pleasure.”

As I chewed, I wondered if he befriended a woman like me on every trip. Someone desperate, alone, and on vacation to forget about their problems. I had no doubt he did.

It was the ultimate bachelor life. Learning about different cultures, sampling a variety of women, no responsibilities. I felt myself becoming a little jealous at the thought of the other women.

“Where are you going next?” I asked, unsure of if he would answer.

“Home for a while. Probably for a month or two. After that, who knows?”

“Is D.C. where you’re from?”

He shook his head. “Moscow.”

My face twisted. “You’re Russian?”

He laughed at my expression, taking a sip of his wine. “Is that a problem?”

I shook my head. “No! I just wouldn’t have guessed. Did you grow up there?”

“Left when I was eleven.”

“So, you speak Russian?”

“Yes. English is my second language.”

“I would never have guessed. You speak English perfectly. Wow, and now you’re living the American dream. What a life you have.”

He smiled. “You wouldn’t like my lifestyle.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t plan ahead. I love walking into an unknown situation. You would have a panic attack without your structure.”

I scoffed. “I can be fun. Not
everything
has to be planned.”

“You’re an accountant.”

“That has nothing to do with how I behave in my personal life. I mean, you’re a business professional in finely tailored suits, and you act like a wildman off-the-clock.”

“A ‘wildman?’ Okay, now
you
need to work on your insults.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, and he smiled. “Whatever; and I don’t even like my job.”

His brows shot up. “Why not?”

The scoop of food I picked up dropped from my Injera. I tried again.

“I chose to do it because I’m good with numbers and the pay is great. But I don’t like it.”

“What would you want to do instead?”

I shrugged, taking my meat filled bite. “Never given it much thought. So, is all your business just rental properties?”

“No. Real estate is my main business, but I’ve invested in a few other businesses as well.”

“I’ve been with you for a couple days, and it doesn't seem like you’ve been working much despite your busy schedule. Do you have a lot of help?”

“Yes. Every area I own rental properties in is run by a property management company I contract. I pop up on occasion to make sure things are running smoothly. It’s my main reason for traveling. It’s nice because I always have a place to stay. And I have been working. Unlike you, I’m a light sleeper so I’m usually up early to get work done.”

“I’m not a heavy sleeper.”

“You could sleep through a tornado siren. You sleep like a brick. Or maybe it’s just a result from all of our fucking.”

He smiled, proud at the thought and I rolled my eyes. But he was starting to open up, so I had to stay on track.

“So how do you balance all that without driving yourself crazy?”

“I love what I do. Work is fun for me, so I don’t really consider it stressful.”

My job would be fun too if I could sleep around in between cabin rental signings and travel the world with a pretty much open schedule. I sighed, taking a sip of my Tej.

Here I was, crying over losing one man, worrying I’d never find someone again, and Derek was running through the opposite sex like it was nothing.

We finished our meal, and he picked up my eating hand. “Great job. I bet you wouldn’t have thought you could eat that without much mess.”

My hand was relatively clean. I smiled. “Yeah, but still dirty enough to have to wash them.”

I cringed watching him lick his fingers. I was sure that wasn’t part of the cultural etiquette. I also had a feeling he wouldn’t be washing his hands.

At least he reached for a moist towelette. He threw me one before ripping open his own. “Just use the wipe. You want the scent of the food to stay on your hand. So later, the scent will remind you of the experience.”

“I think it’ll just remind me that my hands aren’t clean.”

He rolled his eyes, but had a smile on his face. I understood what he was saying. The food eating experience didn’t end when you left the table, but I had to draw the line about my day of surprises somewhere. I’d had more than enough culture shock for one day.

“You’ll be fine. Come on, we’re running late.”

“For what?”

I didn’t even know why I asked. I snatched the wipe as he grabbed my hand and led me back out the restaurant, a scowl on my face at my improper hygiene.

The stark white cold was a major shock to my senses after being in such a vibrant restaurant. The once serene whiteness now seemed bland in comparison.

A few minutes later, we entered a tiny theater. Despite the shabby and outdated interior, the set was pristine.

I looked at him, confused. “I love theater, but this seems like a tame choice for a ‘day or surprises.’”

“Seemed like something you’d like. I wanted to end our outing with something for you, just in case I made you miserable throughout the day.”

I hooked my arm around his as we walked our seats.

“Miserable wouldn’t even come to mind when thinking about today.”

If I’d left in the morning like I was supposed to, I never would have had such a crazy, unexpected, memorable and
fun
day.

14

Derek nearly jumped out of his seat after the ninety-minute show.

“Ready to get out of here, huh?”

He smiled. “Theater is not my cup of tea.”

We walked back to Derek’s cabin, all smiles along the way.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“I enjoyed the entire day. Thank you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really? Even the bikes?”

I shrugged. “It’s not something I would’ve come up with on my own, but I enjoyed myself. Going to be sore in the morning, though.”

“I can help you with that,” he said as we stepped in the cabin.

My heart quickened. “Oh, yeah? How so?”

He immediately stripped down to his boxers, heading to the kitchen for a beer. Just a few days before, the sight sickened me, and now not only did I expect it, I loved watching him in the buff. The pile of clothes he trailed behind was still bothersome, though. He popped the cap and dropped it on the counter.

“I can do one hell of a Thai massage.”

“Let me guess- you learned in Thailand?”

His eyes sparkled as he tilted his beer towards me. “You got it, babe.”

I shook my head, walking over to him, grabbing the cap, and throwing it in the trash before wiping up the spilled drop of beer on the counter. He watched me intently.

“I don’t want to hear it,” I warned.

He shook his head. “Wasn’t going to say anything. If you didn’t do it, it would have bothered you for the rest of the evening. Thanks for cleaning the bathroom, by the way.”