Leave the Space

Chapter 16

There are trophies and then there are trophies. Simply the side room that I could see immediately was an impressive collection of accolades. I was also impressed by the simple elegance of the Monaco apartment as I stepped off the elevator. It was beautiful but not what I expected in my mind. I was half expecting to feel out of place in a lavish apartment but Charles home felt comfortable and modest at first glance. The closer you looked it was clear to see it was a place of quality collections.

"Bienvenue," Charles said offering his hand for my purse. I handed it to him and he hung it on the dining table chair.

"C'est confortable ici," I replied in French.

"Make yourself at home, I'm almost done with dinner," Charles replied. I smiled at the thought of homemade dinner. I had come to love cooking since moving here.

"What are you making," I asked curiously following Charles towards what I would assume to be his kitchen. A smell of pesto getting stronger after each step.

Charles turned realizing I was following him, and he blocked off the entrance to the kitchen but spreading his arm outward in the doorway. "I have to warn you I'm not an overly talented cook but I can make it work," Charles said seriously.

I smiled at his posture in the door. "I'm sure you're fine," I said taking a step towards him.

"I'm serious," Charles said now spreading his legs to stand like a star in the door making me giggle as I took another step challenging him. "I won't let you pass until you promise not to judge."

"I promise," I said exasperated trying to peer into the kitchen. Charles let out a sigh standing normal again and giving me a smirk.

"Okay good," he replied turning on his heel to the kitchen and I followed. "In that case we are having a basil penne pasta with a caprese bread appetizer," he shared as I walked in behind him.

"I should be all done. Just need to pull the bread and drain the pasta," Charles said proudly. "If you wanna pull the bread out of the oven, they should be perfectly broiled," he instructed while grabbing a strainer.

The oven door opened at my pull and I was greeted by a plume of smoke immediately making me cough.

"Oh shit Palmer," Charles said literally dropping what he was doing over the sink and rushing to me. I stood up clearing the smoke away from my face. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I coughed going to turn off the broil. "I think it may have been overdone."

Charles waved a dish towel trying to lighten the smoke that escaped. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," I chuckled. "It happens. Plus we still have the pasta."

Charles gave me a look. "Well the pasta may be in the sink," he motioned over to where the pot and strainer had both fallen in during the events of the stove.

"We can salvage those," I said happily and went to scoop the pasta. Immediately my hands could detect the noodles inconsistent texture, slightly flimsy and shell like. "Charles," I grinned picking one up the top of the pile.

"Oh please don't," he said slightly embarrassed.

I popped the noodles into my mouth with the crunch following. "Tasty," I grinned biting my teeth into the noodle.

Charles blushed pushing his hand through his hair clearly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," I said spitting out the noodle into the sink and trying to suppress my smile. "I really do think it's the thought that counts."

"I appreciate you trying to make me feel better," he replied leaning into the counter. I took my moment to move in front of him and leaned into him. Charles hands moving around my waist like he's been doing it for months, not the first time.