Drew lifted my spirits and I liked that about him. I've never been with someone that made me laugh so much, all the time. He kept his charming silliness most of us put aside when the sarcasm of teenage years grabs us by the mood, dropping it when experiences of adulthood scars us. Not that he lacked those experiences but he kept that childish charm alive inviting the little girl in me out to play every time.
I was with my boss at an event hosted by the richest socialites who had fallen in love with the clothing line I worked for. My boss was wishing a partnership with them and we had clothed our future to be partner and her daughter with two of our current collection cocktail dresses not available for sale yet. The view of downtown high rises on one side and water on the other was stunning. The catered food was spectacular as well and at one point I made more eye contact with the server than with any of the guests. I had emptied my drawer of clever and polite chit chat with strangers and I was ready to go home. Except my boss was very much a people magnet, she had the gift of telling fantastical stories that were a crowd pleaser. I would have gladly been part of her audience once more; her stories about her homeland always changed a bit and for the better. But something about the food's taste was so familiar. And there he was, the server again, he looked at me and knew he had to come my way or I would hound him. By the time he would get to me though there was not much food left so he shrugged his shoulders knowing at that point I had only two interests food and champagne. The waiter looked at me and with a tilt of his head I knew I had to follow him. I did, straight to the kitchen where the loot was. I figured he was going to show me where the goodies were before they end up belly up inside the hungry socialites.
As I entered the kitchen I was greeted by Drew, the chef. He handed me an apron without even looking at me. "I've been eying you, if you're going to eat that much I better put you to work. Here, you will need it or you will stain your dress." He said this with a charming smile while helping me with the apron. "Will I get any champagne?" I said. "Of course!" He uttered with a chuckle, "its part of our contract." "Good, and can I also have a bite?" I said reaching to a tiny piece of food. "No," he said slapping me on the wrist. "You've been gobbling it. Look, he said as he placed one bite in my mouth. Taste it, don't swallow it," he smiled. I did, and the flavors took my whole senses hostage. How did I end up inside the most elite kitchen I've ever seen, helping the most handsome chef in town, laughing away with a complete stranger I felt I knew forever.
The chef was right; champagne was part of his contract. From that day on Drew would come over to my house with a bottle of my favorite champagne and cook the most amazing meals for us while I accompanied him in the kitchen. Scottish father and a Dominican mother, the flavors of his heritage bloomed into his cooking, Watching art come from his hands and into our palates was a gift. My kitchen had never been graced with such love. He laughed at my silly jokes and I loved his second grade flirting style. With him the silliness never stopped. "Stop it! he used to say while I tried to grab food before it was ready. I'm going to have to pull your hair," he cried. To what I replied laughing, "is that how you got your girlfriends in the second grade?" "Still works right?" He laughed. "Yes, so I'm going to have to pull your nose as punishment," I said while sipping on champagne. But it did worked, I'm not ashamed to admit it. It did from the second we met because two second graders in a grown up party will always end up playing together.
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