Free What's Cooking by Gail Sattler Page B

that either the forklift driver was being irresponsible or the machinery wasn’t packaged properly. It shouldn’t have tipped over so easily.”
    â€œDoes this kind of thing happen often? You had to work late one day last week, too.”
    â€œNo. It’s something different every time. I have to consider it an adventure or else it would drive me crazy. Did I ever tell you about the time one of the trucks got wedged in the underpass in rush hour?”
    As they worked to wash the seat, he told her amusing stories of the various disasters that happened in his workplace over the years that sounded funny now, although she doubted they were even the least bit amusing at the time.
    Before long, the seat was as good as new. After they returned the steam cleaner, Carolyn pulled into the driveway behind his car and checked her wristwatch.
    â€œI think it’s a little late to be starting a cooking lesson.”
    Mitchell turned his wrist and also checked the time. “I guess. What about tomorrow?”
    â€œTomorrow is Friday.”
    â€œOops. You’re right. But if you don’t have other plans, I’d appreciate it if you could come over tomorrow and we’ll try again.”
    Carolyn closed one eye and tilted one corner of her mouth to think. She didn’t know if spending so much time with Mitchell was wise, but she’d committed herself to helping him. As his teacher, if he couldn’t do as he’d promised, his failure would also be her failure. She also wanted to bring him up to the skill level of the rest of the class—for the sake of her other students.
    She grasped the steering wheel with both hands, sighed, and turned to him. “Your house or mine?”
    â§
    Carolyn knocked on Mitchell’s door. As usual, the dog barked once and the door opened.
    Carolyn tried not to let her mouth hang open. “Don’t you think you’re a little overdressed for a cooking lesson?”
    One dimple appeared in Mitchell’s left cheek along with his lopsided smile. Instead of jeans and a T-shirt, he wore gray dress pants and a neatly pressed white shirt. Leather shoes replaced his worn sneakers, and his hair was meticulously gelled into a very attractive style. Carolyn narrowed her eyes and looked closer. She could still see some of the blue and orange from the day before, but somehow he’d managed to hide most of the damage. Also, unlike any other evening, night school classes included, he had recently shaved.
    â€œI’m really hungry, and I’m tired of eating snacks. I want real food, so I thought maybe we could go out.”
    Carolyn crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “You don’t intend to do any cooking tonight, do you?”
    â€œI do so, but I gotta eat. Don’t you believe me?” He splayed his fingers, placed his palm over his heart, and pretended to look wounded.
    She wasn’t falling for it. “No.”
    â€œWell, you’re wrong. I just wanted to go somewhere nice, not too fancy, but not the local hamburger joint, and then we’ll come home and get down to business. Please?”
    Carolyn let out a long, exasperated sigh.
    â€œYou’re doing that sighing thing again. I thought we could go to the new steakhouse. I’ve heard good things about it, although I haven’t been there yet.”
    â€œAll right, but you had better be prepared to do some cooking when we get back.”
    Mitchell reached into the closet and yanked out his jacket, then stepped outside.
    He opened the car door and waited for her to get in. “You look nice, by the way.”
    She wore her comfortable flat shoes and her denim skirt and a fuzzy pink sweater, which would be fine for where they were going; but for once, Mitchell was dressed better than she was. It felt strange. “Thank you. You look nice, too.”
    Not only did he look good, he smelled good. In the confines of the car, she could smell a spicy aftershave or