Afternoon Delight by Anne Calhoun Read Free Book Online

label to remember your name!”
    Trish scoffed. “Of course I’ve brought home guys I’ve picked up at
the bar
, but it’s
the bar
. At night. You’ve waxed what needs to be waxed and done your hair and makeup and you’re wearing sexy clothes and you’ve been drinking. Everyone picks up guys at the bar and takes them home. But in broad damn daylight, stone cold sober? You smelled like black beans and cayenne pepper! What were you thinking?”
    Sarah ran her fingers through her damp hair. “I was thinking we had wicked chemistry and he looked like he’d be Superman in bed.”
    Trish threw her head back and laughed. “Well? Was he?”
    Yes. Without moving a muscle until the very end, he was Superman and Batman and Wolverine all rolled into one. A tremor ran through her at the thought of what he’d be like when allowed free reign with those big, long-fingered hands. “He was,” she said lightly, and sipped her wine again.
    â€œWorth having to do all the prep tomorrow?”
    â€œThat and more. What’s on the menu?”
    â€œBack to the beef?”
    â€œWe don’t have enough, unless you don’t mind running out halfway through the rush.”
    â€œI’ll add that to the order for Friday,” Trish said. “It might be good marketing, advertising it then tweeting that it disappeared really quickly.”
    Sarah breathed a small sigh of relief. Some business partners could be incredibly touchy when presented with order failures or unexpected costs, but Trish handled everything as data, nothing more, nothing less. “It’s fine with me,” Sarah said.
    â€œThe brown rice and beans did surprisingly well,” Trish said. She handed Sarah the order paperwork and started tabbing between windows on her laptop. “A bigger profit margin than the bowls with chicken or beef.”
    â€œBeans are cheap and sell well, and you can add lots of flavor to them. But I really think the secret is in the sauces. I want to keep experimenting with those. Tim liked the habanero one we tried today.”
    â€œI’ll set up a vote option on the Facebook page and run promo tweets for the new sauces,” Trish said, her eyes flickering over spreadsheet columns. “You must really be ready to live again to go home with a guy you’ve just met.”
    She
was
ready to live again. The afternoon in Tim’s bed just confirmed it, leaving her with a sweet sense of satisfaction she’d only just begun to walk off crossing the bridge. She made a noncommittal noise and stretched through the delicious ache in her muscles.
    â€œA firefighter, though,” Trish added. “That’s interesting.”
    â€œHe’s a paramedic.”
    â€œThe uniforms all look the same to me. Are you going to see him again?”
    â€œDinner Saturday night,” Sarah said. No need to torture herself and tell Trish about the challenge. The less she thought about it, talked about it, the better.
    â€œWhere does he live?”
    â€œLower East Side, just around the corner from Seward Park. He has an efficiency apartment. It’s got a Murphy bed, which I found quaint.”
    â€œCharming quaint or tired quaint?”
    â€œIKEA quaint, and pin neat. It was quiet, too.”
    â€œIt was four o’clock in the afternoon. Of course it was quiet.”
    Sarah burrowed a little deeper into Trish’s big squashy chair and focused on the order sheet. Remnants of sweet heat spangled over her nerve endings. “Perfect timing, as far as I’m concerned.”
    ***
    Still on for Saturday night? What time should I come over?
    I’ll be around all day. Text when you leave. Any allergies or loathed foods?
    No allergies. No Brussels sprouts or spinach.
    Good to know.
    Sarah slid her phone back into her messenger bag. She didn’t ask how he was doing with their challenge. He didn’t tell her.
    ***
    Tim hunkered on his heels and