mesh bag. “I stopped at
the farmers market. You might have plans already.” She shrugged. “If not, I
thought it might be fun to cook together.”
He hesitated,
caught off guard by her enthusiasm. Troy’s brow wrinkled. “I come on strong, I
know. I’m like this whenever I make a new friend. Some people get annoyed by
me.” She smiled. “If you’ve got things to do, or if you’d just rather not, it’s
no big deal, really. I won’t take offense.”
“No, not at
all. I’m glad you stopped by. Cooking dinner sounds like fun.” He held open the
front gate. “Come in.”
The crumbled
hole in the corner of the building was still there, unfixed. Someone must’ve
inspected it at some point, because now there was an orange safety cone in
front.
When they
reached the top of the stairs, the neighboring door opened. Mariposa peeked
out. “Hey, Vish,” she said. She looked at Troy with frank interest. “Who’s
that?”
“Hi, Mariposa.
Mariposa, this is my friend Troy.”
“Nice to meet
you, Mariposa. I really like your sandals. Those are cute.” Troy smiled at her,
all dimples and charm.
Mariposa was
immune to Troy’s dimples. She looked her over, up and down, and gave her a cool
nod. “Thanks.” She shifted her attention back to Vish. “Do you know who’s
moving in beneath you? I haven’t seen anyone, but they’ve been making tons of
noise all day. Bumps and thumps.”
“I don’t know,”
Vish said. “Good that the building’s filling up, I guess. It’s been kind of
weird with no one around.”
“I know. It’s
creepy.” Mariposa glanced back into her apartment. “I’m alone with Luis, so I
better go.”
“Nice meeting
you,” Troy said. Mariposa ducked back inside without answering. As soon as the
door was closed, Troy grinned at Vish. “She has a crush on you.”
Vish snorted.
“I seriously doubt that,” he said. He fumbled to unlock his own door, hoping
Mariposa wasn’t eavesdropping.
“Are you
kidding me? She came outside as soon as she heard us coming. And she really
scoped out her competition. Did you see the stink-eye she gave me?”
“She might’ve
felt shy. Maybe she recognized you.”
Troy shrugged
and moved past him into his apartment. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean she’s not sweet on
you. Is the idea really so crazy?”
“Yes. Yes, it
is. For starters, I’m too old for her to even consider me that way.”
“That’s
probably part of the appeal. You’re old enough that her mother would wig out at
the idea of you as her boyfriend, which makes it kind of fun and dangerous, but
at the same time you’re sweet and gentle and bunny-rabbit cute, which
neutralizes any real threat. That combination is catnip to teen girls. Trust
me, I used to be an expert.”
Vish raised his
eyebrows. “Bunny-rabbit cute?”
“Oh, yes,” Troy
said. “Absolutely.” She winked at him.
Was that good?
Probably not—after all, she’d essentially just told him that she found him
innocuous and kind of sexless. Did Troy like cute boys, or had she left that
phase behind in her teen years? As Vish tried to work this out, she headed for
the kitchen and plopped her mesh bag down on the counter. “This is going to
sound like not much fun, but bear with me. I picked up tofu—it’s the firm kind,
not the drippy crap, and it’s not bad at all if you cook it right—and then a
bunch of vegetables and herbs and stuff. I thought we could do a stir-fry.”
She was right.
It didn’t sound fun. “Sounds great. Healthy.”
“Do you drink?”
Troy pulled a bottle of red wine out of her bag. “And if you do, point me in
the direction of your corkscrew.”
Troy was a good
cook. Troy, from what Vish had seen thus far, was probably good at everything
she did. Vish had worked for Jamie long enough to be comfortable in a kitchen;
he chopped vegetables to Troy’s specifications, then watched as she cooked
everything up with sesame oil and grated ginger and soy sauce. They drank while
they cooked,
the farmers market. You might have plans already.” She shrugged. “If not, I
thought it might be fun to cook together.”
He hesitated,
caught off guard by her enthusiasm. Troy’s brow wrinkled. “I come on strong, I
know. I’m like this whenever I make a new friend. Some people get annoyed by
me.” She smiled. “If you’ve got things to do, or if you’d just rather not, it’s
no big deal, really. I won’t take offense.”
“No, not at
all. I’m glad you stopped by. Cooking dinner sounds like fun.” He held open the
front gate. “Come in.”
The crumbled
hole in the corner of the building was still there, unfixed. Someone must’ve
inspected it at some point, because now there was an orange safety cone in
front.
When they
reached the top of the stairs, the neighboring door opened. Mariposa peeked
out. “Hey, Vish,” she said. She looked at Troy with frank interest. “Who’s
that?”
“Hi, Mariposa.
Mariposa, this is my friend Troy.”
“Nice to meet
you, Mariposa. I really like your sandals. Those are cute.” Troy smiled at her,
all dimples and charm.
Mariposa was
immune to Troy’s dimples. She looked her over, up and down, and gave her a cool
nod. “Thanks.” She shifted her attention back to Vish. “Do you know who’s
moving in beneath you? I haven’t seen anyone, but they’ve been making tons of
noise all day. Bumps and thumps.”
“I don’t know,”
Vish said. “Good that the building’s filling up, I guess. It’s been kind of
weird with no one around.”
“I know. It’s
creepy.” Mariposa glanced back into her apartment. “I’m alone with Luis, so I
better go.”
“Nice meeting
you,” Troy said. Mariposa ducked back inside without answering. As soon as the
door was closed, Troy grinned at Vish. “She has a crush on you.”
Vish snorted.
“I seriously doubt that,” he said. He fumbled to unlock his own door, hoping
Mariposa wasn’t eavesdropping.
“Are you
kidding me? She came outside as soon as she heard us coming. And she really
scoped out her competition. Did you see the stink-eye she gave me?”
“She might’ve
felt shy. Maybe she recognized you.”
Troy shrugged
and moved past him into his apartment. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean she’s not sweet on
you. Is the idea really so crazy?”
“Yes. Yes, it
is. For starters, I’m too old for her to even consider me that way.”
“That’s
probably part of the appeal. You’re old enough that her mother would wig out at
the idea of you as her boyfriend, which makes it kind of fun and dangerous, but
at the same time you’re sweet and gentle and bunny-rabbit cute, which
neutralizes any real threat. That combination is catnip to teen girls. Trust
me, I used to be an expert.”
Vish raised his
eyebrows. “Bunny-rabbit cute?”
“Oh, yes,” Troy
said. “Absolutely.” She winked at him.
Was that good?
Probably not—after all, she’d essentially just told him that she found him
innocuous and kind of sexless. Did Troy like cute boys, or had she left that
phase behind in her teen years? As Vish tried to work this out, she headed for
the kitchen and plopped her mesh bag down on the counter. “This is going to
sound like not much fun, but bear with me. I picked up tofu—it’s the firm kind,
not the drippy crap, and it’s not bad at all if you cook it right—and then a
bunch of vegetables and herbs and stuff. I thought we could do a stir-fry.”
She was right.
It didn’t sound fun. “Sounds great. Healthy.”
“Do you drink?”
Troy pulled a bottle of red wine out of her bag. “And if you do, point me in
the direction of your corkscrew.”
Troy was a good
cook. Troy, from what Vish had seen thus far, was probably good at everything
she did. Vish had worked for Jamie long enough to be comfortable in a kitchen;
he chopped vegetables to Troy’s specifications, then watched as she cooked
everything up with sesame oil and grated ginger and soy sauce. They drank while
they cooked,
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