Page 9 of Midnight Snack

AURELIA: Shut your face.

AURELIA: Also don’t pretend you’re not already half in love with this woman. How many times did you watch her audition tape?

ME: I had to make sure I was making an informed decision.

AURELIA: You are so full of shit.

ME: I am not in love with anyone. I don’t even know Caroline. Not yet at least.

AURELIA: But you’ll be open to it?

ME: Yes.

ME: Also, I might be obsessed with her hair too.

I hear the key in the lock and stand, then force myself to sit, then jump up and move into the kitchen to lean against the counter.

ME: Gotta go. She’s here.

My phone pings again, but I’ve already slipped it back into my pocket.

Then she’s standing there. Impossibly pale skin and equally dark hair. Like Snow White come to life, and she is definitely the most fairest of all. Whatever the fuck that means. Awesome, now I’m thinking in metaphors I don’t even get. Or is that an analogy?

Focus, dumb ass!

I step forward. “Hey, I’m Damien. Did you need help with any of your bags?”

She hefts up the one hanging from her shoulder. “I got it all. Thanks though. Did you already pick a room? I can just grab the other.”

I scratch at the back of my neck. “Oh, I actually hadn’t even thought that far. I just dropped my stuff in the living room.”

She’s so fucking gorgeous, it’s short-circuiting my brain. Like her tits alone are worthy of a sonnet or whatever. Not that I know how to write one, but I’m pretty sure old Shakespeare would have had plenty to say.

“I thought maybe we could talk and get to know each other a little,” I say. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

She sets down her bag and nods. “Caroline Mathis. Graduated from The Culinary Institute of America in San Antonio with an Associate Degree in Pastry and Baking.” She tilts her head. “That’s about it. You?”

I chuckle and take a step towards her. “I saw your audition tape, so I know your credentials. Very impressive.”

I sure as fuck hope she doesn’t ask for mine.

Another buzz from my phone. “I was thinking more along the lines of who you are as a person.”

Her nose scrunches and fuck if that doesn’t make me want to kiss her. I’ve got to get my head in the game. Winning this with her could solidify the future of my family’s bakery and make a large donation to my dyslexia charity.

“I think for the purposes of this show, maybe it’s better if we keep things professional. This competition is very important to me, and I’d rather you not screw it up.” I step backward. Her words are a slap to my face I didn’t see coming.

Her tone is still kind, but the words themselves are sharper than my set of knives.

Her eyes dart to my jeans pocket when my phone vibrates again. “I think your wife or girlfriend or whoever is desperate to talk to you.”

“I don’t have either,” I say. I stare at her, and she stares back. “Do you have any questions for me?”

She shakes her head. Then crosses her arms over her ample chest. “No, I learned everything I needed to know about you from watching one of your videos.”

I cross my own arms over my chest. “I take it you’re not a fan.”

A look of distaste crosses her pretty face. Maybe I completely misjudged Caroline Mathis, and she isn’t sweet at all. Maybe she’s judgmental and a little bit cruel.