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“So what do you write? Jackie O’Brien. . .I don’t know your
name off the top of my head. Or do you use a pseudonym?”
“No, I don’t. And I haven’t actually published a book. Not
yet. I’m a columnist for Food International.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned on his face. “So the cooking.
. .” He pointed down to the basket. “The writing and the cooking
go together for you?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of my thing. I review cookbooks by making
a few of the recipes in them, and then I talk about how easy or
difficult it is for the average cook to translate the meals in their
own kitchens.” I grinned. “Full disclosure: your meal tonight is
going to show up on the magazine’s web page next week. You
know, two birds, one stone.”
“One chicken, in this case.” Lucas smiled, too, and I had
to get a grip on myself to keep from melting into a puddle right
there on his front porch. I struggled for something witty to say.
“Sorry about my dog this morning. He’s never taken off like
that. At least, not first thing in the morning. I usually keep him
on a leash if we’re outside, but I’m not used to anyone being
over here. No one has lived here for a while.”
He nodded. “No big deal. I like dogs. Just glad he didn’t get
run over by the moving men.”
“Nah, only crushed by their derision.” I smirked when Lucas
tilted his head. “You know, they said he wasn’t much of a
dog.”
“Oh, did they? Well, those two weren’t exactly the Westminster
Kennel Club. Hell, they weren’t even the greatest movers.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You
should
see how much broken crap I have now, thanks to them.”
“Moving sucks.” Standing on the stoop was getting awkward,
and I shifted to lean against the railing that ran along the
edge of the porch. Lucas started to say something, but before
I could hear him, the wrought iron creaked and gave way. My
balance gave way with it, and for one moment that would be
burned into my mind forever, I struggled to keep from falling,
arms wind-milling in what must have been a cartoon-like fashion.
I lost the battle and tumbled ass-first into one of the overgrown
bushes that surrounded the porch.