Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
A storm rages on the other side of the windows behind Bobby. Rain pelts the glass, creating a soothing backdrop to the colorful kitchen. Pippa leans against my side as if she needs to touch me as much as I need to touch her.
We lay in bed all morning and listened to the rain. It was nice not having anywhere to go or anything to do. In our assessment of the retreat, we decided to suggest that couples have a choice to include free days. While paddleboarding was fun and let us experience something new together, our lazy day today shifted our relationship from great to incredible.
Pippa grips my bicep and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m Jess, and this is Pippa. Thank you for your willingness to share your time and skills with us,” I say.
“Hey, no problem. I love food and the community aspect behind it. Anytime I can talk about food, I’m in.” He laughs. “I heard it through the grapevine that you’re thinking about creating a couples retreat package at the hotel?”
Pippa perks up. “Yes, actually, I am. My company will be offering packages in the coming months. Silver Springs is centrally located, and there are so many fun experiences that can be incorporated. I thought a cooking class might be a fun option.”
“I love it. Nothing brings people together like food.” He looks between us. “Are you two just testing this out, or are you on a couples retreat yourselves or …”
Pippa smirks. “This is my ex-husband, Jess—”
“Excuse me,” I say. “I’m not her ex-husband.”
Bobby furrows his brow.
“I’m her boyfriend—her man since we aren’t in high school.” I grin, challenging Pippa. “She tries to resist me sometimes, but it doesn’t change the fact that she owns my heart.”
Pippa grins, resting her forehead on my arm. I reach behind her and grab her waist, pulling her closer.
“May I ask who does the majority of the cooking in your relationship?” Bobby asks. “Does one of you do the heavy lifting, or do you both enjoy it equally?”
“I do most of it,” Pippa says.
“Awesome. What’s your favorite thing to make?” Bobby asks.
“I’m in a cold soup season,” she says, laughing. “I just made a tomato with tarragon concoction with a dollop of crème fraiche on top. So good.”
Bobby looks impressed. I am impressed.
She can cook, too? How does she just get better?
“The tarragon is a nice touch,” Bobby says, moving around the oversized island. “So many people are afraid of using fresh herbs, but I couldn’t cook without them.”
“Me either. The freshness really brings a dish together.”
“Have you ever used fenugreek leaves?” he asks.
“No.”
“We’re going to make a chicken tikka masala today, and the fenugreek leaves at the end do just what you’re saying. It gives the dish a maple-y flavor that makes you go, ‘Hmm, what am I tasting?’”
Pippa smiles brightly, taking an apron from Bobby. “I can’t wait.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking an apron too.
We fasten them around our middles, then give our hands a good scrub. While we prepare, Bobby gives us the history of Chutney. As fascinating as it is to hear about the fire that destroyed the kitchen fifty years ago, I’m more interested in Pippa.
I’ve never seen this side of her before.
She soaks in the information, engaged in the learning process. Her brows pull together, and she nods eagerly. I don’t even know what masala means. She’s speaking a language I don’t understand with Bobby … and it makes me smile.
I take a step back and observe.
Pippa asks questions about spices and cutting techniques, surprising Bobby with a knowledge base I didn’t know she had either. She stands a little taller when he asks her if she’s thought about working with food professionally.
What else is there to know about her?
“Jess, if you could join us over here,” Bobby says, waving me to the island. “We’re going to start our chicken prep. I prefer chicken thighs for this dish because they’re a juicier and more forgiving cut of meat than, say, breast. But you can absolutely use something else if you’d like.”
“I prefer breast,” I say, taking an elbow to the ribs from Pippa.
Bobby laughs. “Me too, man. Me too.”
“I’m a shoulder girl myself,” Pippa says, making us all laugh.
“We’re going to pierce the thighs with a fork so the marinade we make can soak all through the meat. Pippa, would you like to do the honors?”
“I’d love to.”
She takes a fork off the counter and pokes it all over the thighs lying inside a foil-lined tray.
“While you do that, I’m going to grab the fenugreek,” Bobby says. “I leave it out during a lot of these classes, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Yes, I’d love to try it,” Pippa says.
“I’ll be right back.” Bobby exits the room, leaving us alone.
Finally.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I ask. “I don’t have a fucking clue what we’re making, and nothing you guys talk about makes any sense to me.”