“I’ll make eggplant parmesan.”
“Clementine.” I don’t know how to reply. “You didn’t even know how to turn on a coffee machine a few weeks back. How are you going to cook?”
“I know how to turn on a coffee machine. It’s your machine that’s crazy tough. Just like you.” She giggles, but when I don’t return her smile, she sobers. “How will I learn if I don’t try?” She has already dumped two eggplants in her grocery bag.
Finally, we are fucking out of the store. Looking at all the bags in the trunk of my car, I’m not sure if Clementine’s savings plan was a hit or miss.
I’m about to get in when Clementine grabs my arm. “Wait.” She points to the café next to the store. “I haven’t had a real cinnamon latte since—” She rolls her eyes, moving her head side to side. “—forever. I also want you to taste it and know it’s not the same as mixing all the ingredients together.”
“Clementine—”
“I’m not spending any money. I’ve accumulated points enough to buy us two free drinks.” She flips her phone to me and shows me a local food app. “Please don’t say no. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have a hard time spending your money on buying the latte you don’t even consider coffee.”
When I don’t respond, her lips turn into a sad smile and her words mess with my heart and head. “Do this with me, Keith. You’ve taken half a day off. It’s only eleven. Please.”
She is already pulling me toward the café.
“What about your work? Aren’t you on some deadline?”
She smiles, and every time she does that, something warm crawls in my heart, unfreezing the decade-long cold bit by bit.
“I broke my designer’s block. I’m already halfway through the dress. Vanessa will die when she sees it.” Then she adds hesitantly, “I think.”
I know about her contract being shortened. I’m sure her family is counting the days on her failing. After talking to Oscar, I feel for Clementine. I have no idea what she does or if she’s any good. But I appreciate her effort for trying to make it on her own, even if most of the time she’s clueless about it.
Above anything, she’s a nice person. I’ve no doubt about it. A little crazy at times, but nice nonetheless. I cannot deny the fact that since she came to my house, something has shifted. My house is happier.
“Come on, Keith.” I let her drag me inside the café.
After we place our order and sit, Clementine asks, “What do you think?”
She takes a sip of her drink and looks at me carefully. The huge smile on her face stops me from spewing the concoction loaded with sugar, cream, and foam.
“Okay,” I grunt.
She bursts into laughter. “You hate it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. You twitched your lips, like every time whenever you don’t approve of something Mere says or when you don’t like something I’m doing. Which used to happen a lot, but now it’s less frequent,” she blabbers while I’m stuck at her comment about my subtle tell. I close my eyes.
“You have a tell, Sergeant,” Melanie whispers in my ear.
“I don’t,” I reply, lying sick on the bed as she brings me her mother’s soup, which tastes like shit.
Her fingers graze my lips. “This sexy twitch is your tell. You twitch your lips when you hate something. I’m happy to tell you it’s very subtle. But I’ve spent so much time staring at your gorgeous face that I can’t miss it.”
“Keith!”
My eyes open and my head jerks at Clementine staring at me with wide eyes. My gaze shifts from her face to where I’m clutching her hand tight. Her fingers twined with mine as I unknowingly use her warmth to bring me back from the cold.
I loosen my grip immediately.
“Are you all right?” she asks, caressing her hand.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
She quickly hides her hand under the table and smiles. “It’s okay.”