The Producer - Ricky Wilson Fan Fiction

Chef

"Has this got something to do with you?" Laura asked as Ricky stopped just behind the chef. He screwed up his face.

"It might do. Will you be cross if I say yes?" his puppy eyes locked on to her questioning ones. How could she resist such a look? Laura breathed in deeply. This wasn't supposed to be happening.

"You better come in." Laura turned slowly on her good leg before hobbling into the kitchen. The chef Marc and Ricky walked in behind her. "I'm afraid there's not much in the way of food in the fridge," Laura explained.

"Not to worry, I've got everything I need. You just sit down and relax and I'll do the rest." He smiled a cheeky smile at Laura. Ricky patted him on the shoulder and followed Laura over to the sofa.

She sat down and looked straight to Ricky for an explanation. She raised her eyebrows and blinked at him as if to say 'well?'

"How are you feeling? What did the doctor say?" Laura had text him as soon as she'd found out about the sprains.

"You know what he said, I text you. Ricky what is all this about?" she gestured towards the kitchen.

"That's a friend of mine Marc," he said, seemingly excited by the fact.

"That's not what I mean and you know it." her eyes remained trained on him.

"Ok, it's my way of saying sorry. And as I didn't think you'd be up for going out tonight, I thought I'd bring a meal here, to you." He sounded remorseful. Laura hesitated. She looked over Marc, busy cutting something up, very fast actually. She feared for his fingers. Then back to Ricky who was waiting patiently for some sort of sign that he'd done the right thing. Laura was so confused. There was nothing she wanted more than to spend an evening with him eating good food and, well no she'd have to leave the wine tonight with her pain killers. But hadn't this week proved she was right. Though hadn't last Sunday told her what her heart was saying. There was so much she wanted to say, but with a stranger in her home, cooking in her kitchen, now wasn't the time. So all she simply said was, "Thank you."

"So what did the doctors say? Have you got to be on the crutches long?" The guilt he felt was immense.

"As long as I need them really. Up to a few weeks possibly, but to be honest it's easing already." She leant down to rub her leg. "I was quite lucky really. "

"I am so sorry. I didn't know you were following me. If I had.. "

"If you had, nothing would have been any different because you would have still ignored me because you were angry with me and... "Ricky placed his finger on her lip to stop her. Laura stopped immediately, perplexed by his action. His face told her once again he was sorry and nothing needed to be said.

They eventually were called to eat. Pan fried scallops with a maple glaze were presented as a started. Marc's description of the dish, sounded like something out of a romantic French novel they way he said the words with such passion. They talked between the three of them whilst he went on to finish the preparation of a classic Ravioli, which was cooked to perfection. After he had served the main course, he gave Ricky instructions as to what to do for the dessert. Having refilled his wooden crate with his belongings, he left them alone to eat.

They were silent for a while, absorbing the fact that once again they were alone; a position they hadn't been in since Sunday. They caught each other's eye and laughed. They both went to speak at the same moment.

"Sorry, you go..."Ricky insisted Laura spoke first.

"I was just going to say this is lovely. He's cooked it beautifully." Laura loaded her fork for the next mouthful. "What were you going to say?" She put her fork in her mouth, allowing the floor to Ricky. He finished his mouthful and put his cutlery down.