I need you.
She wants to say the words but she can’t. Not to Marcel. Not to anyone. Instead, she restocks her fridge with a six-pack of Cali-Cream and Guinness. These are two beers that she knows he likes. Periodically she adds something new, whenever someone recommends a good craft beer.
Today she adds the coveted Founders Kentucky Breakfast Stout. It's a craft beer she’s been on the hunt for all year after reading The Manual’s online guide to the best chocolate beers.
She packs it away on one of the shelves and hopes he likes it. If he does, she plans on making sure to always know when Total Wine has it in stock. It brings up memories of last Christmas when they exchanged Advent calendars. She gifted him a Trappist Advent Calendar consisting of twelve different beers by monks in different regions of Europe. He gifted her a Wine Advent Calendar which she loved and devoured within the week of receiving it.
She takes out her cutting board and chef's knife and starts slicing a tomato. She sings along to a song she has playing as she places the slices on a serving plate. She moves on to the bell peppers and jalapenos. Then she drains a can of Garber Olive House sliced olives and places them on the serving tray with the other vegetables.
With the vegetables done, she moves on to the ground beef and seasons it with salt, pepper, and fresh garlic. The aroma of fat and seasonings fill the kitchen and now she’s singing along to Breakin’ My Heart by Mint Condition. The song unwinds its melody around her with a punchy, swanky rhythm.
While the ground beef is sizzling, she warms a cup of water in a pot and sets the timer for 2 minutes. She doesn’t need the water to boil, just to heat. Mina could use the microwave, it will probably be faster but she hates zapping food, including water. She didn’t learn much in the field of cooking from her mother, but dammit she’s one hell of a baker and today, she’s baking pizza.
With her spirits lifted by music and food, she pours herself a glass of Domaine Bousquet Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s one of those under $20 wines that’s practically a steal for the value. She liked it so much, that she bought a whole case and covets every glass she pours herself. She might finish a bottle to herself tonight. Wine and pizza make a perfect pairing, after all.
The timer goes off and she pours the warm water into two bowls and sprinkles the yeast on top. Then she adds a bit of sugar and olive oil and stirs the mixtures. As Caught Up in the Rapture by Anita Baker starts to play, her doorbell rings, right on time. A smile creeps upon her face as she goes to answer it.
She answers the door like she’s surprised to see him and says, “Well Marcel, I wasn’t expecting you.”
This spurs a playful reaction from him and he says, “Well something told me to come over. I can’t read minds, but I can read yours.”
“Oh really?” she says as she lets him in. He glides past her and drapes his coat over the back of the couch. She comes up behind him. “And what does my mind say?” she’s flirting, and likes that he’s flirting back. Warmth covers her from the wine she’s been drinking and her cheeks feel flushed.
He pulls her closer by the waist. “It says you want to pour yourself all over me.”
She pushes away and smacks his arm. “Funny.” She heads back to the ground beef and turns off the stove.
“I could be wrong,” he says as he comes into the kitchen, “but pupils don’t lie and I can see it in your eyes.”
She gives him a sideways grin. “That’s not how the song goes.”
He leans against the counter, “It is when I sing it.”
She takes in his casual appearance. He’s not in work clothes today but wears a faded blue blazer and looks like a frat boy. A much older fat boy.
“You look like you stepped out of a 1950’s TV show with that apron on.” His blue eyes are dark and mischievous looking. She feels naked under his gaze and wonders how is she going to pull off the rest of the evening with him staring at her like that.
“Yeah well, I’m wearing Johanna Ortiz under this thing. Thirsty?” She offers him one of the Founders Stouts. “Look what I found.”
“Nice,” he says, accepting the cold bottle and cracking it open with his keychain bottle opener. He places the keys on the counter. “Where’d you find this?”
He takes a drink as she says, “Oh, a little store called Total Wine had it in stock today.”
A gasp escapes him after he swallows, “I see, home away from home. I bet you racked up enough points to get a bottle of Crystal. This is excellent, by the way.”
“I knew you’d like it.” She pours one of the yeast mixtures into the Kitchenaid mixer and adds the flour and sets it to mix. “And yes, I have enough points for two bottles of Crystal. So play your cards right and I might get one for you.” She turns to wink at him.
“I guess I better be nice then.” He takes another drink while he watches her sprinkle flour on a pastry mat. “What are we making? Let me guess.” He looks over the tray of sliced vegetables and scrunches his nose. “Something vegan and tasteless.”
“No, silly. Pizza. One for you and one for me. There’s pepperoni and hard salami in the fridge for you to go along with that ground beef on the stove. The veggies are for me unless you want some jalapeno then I guess you can have a few.”
“Pizza?” He sets the beer down and smiles, “You’re a woman after my heart and you become harder to resist each time we meet.”
She grins back at him as the kitchen aid mixes the dough with a buzzing sound. Then he adds, “But a wise man once said to a woman who prepared for him a feast, ‘Woman, what on earth is it that you want from me? I know you didn’t do this out of the kindness of your heart. Now confess, you scheming woman.’”
Mina laughs as she removes the ball of dough from the mixer onto the floured surface. “Here, roll this out.” She hands him the rolling pin while she prepares the next batch of dough.
He eyes the rolling pin in his hand like he’s never seen one before. “What on earth is this strange contraption? A wand?”
“Ugh,” she says as she snatches it from him, “you are insufferable and such a nerd.” She starts to roll out the dough. “I have an idea. How about you stand over there and drink your beer? When it’s ready you can do the fun part and add your toppings.”
To that his eyes light up with more playful sarcasm and he says with childish enthusiasm, “Oh can I? Damn, this evening keeps getting better and better. I’m excited and scared all at the same time because I know something’s coming. I don’t what it is, but it's something.” He picks up his beer and takes another drink as he leans against the counter.
She can feel his eyes on her as she rolls out the dough and shapes the crust, then transfers it to a pizza stone. “Do you want marinara?”
“Yes, please.”
She ladles a scoopful from a pot on the stove and spreads it around. “There,” she says as she sets it before him. He goes to work with a layer of mozzarella cheese followed by layers of all three meats while she rolls out the other pizza dough. His pizza is heavy in meat and cheese as he pops it into the hot oven. It makes her happy to see the smile on his face, knowing that he’s content in her presence, and satisfied with her company.
When the pizzas are both done, they head over to the couch and he pulls the coffee table closer. She removes the apron to reveal her white and brown midi dress. It has a Roman-inspired single-shoulder tie sleeve and a column silhouette. He likes it, she knows he does because his eyes glide up and down her body. The idea is to tease him a bit but not enough to spark arousal and change the outcome of the evening. This night has a purpose.
He’s drinking a Cali Cream beer now and she’s sipping on another glass of wine. You Are by Lionel Richie is playing and she can’t help but think Pandora is on a roll today. It's playing song after song that she not only loves but makes her think of the man sitting beside her.
Marcel. He makes her life a foolish game, just as Lionel sings in the song. Her sun. Her rain. If only she can say what she wants to say. But what does she want to tell him? And is it worth it to change what they have already?
Complicated. If she moves faster than him, she’ll make things difficult and it’s not worth the trouble. The outcome could go either way and she’s too much of a coward to take that chance. First things first.
“I don’t know how you did it. If I was stuck on a deserted island with only one thing to eat every day, I’d choose this pizza.” He takes another bite. An olive slice falls to his plate.
Mina laughs, “If you were on a deserted island, I doubt you’d have an oven to cook with. I take it that it’s a winner?”
“Definitely a winner.” He gulps his beer. “You sure Yvette won’t mind if I drink all the beer?”
Mina waves a hand at him. “Of course not. It's for anyone who likes it. I don’t buy beer solely for her even though she is a bit of a beer connoisseur.”
It’s a partial lie. Mina does buy beer based on her sister’s recommendations at times, but it isn’t for Yvette. Sometimes Yvette just happens to be around to help her choose what to buy. Other times she does a taste test on the beers Mina thinks Marcel might like. She doesn’t tell her sister it's for him, even though she's certain Yvette suspects their friendship is more than platonic.
“Well good, because I think I’m going to have another.” He rises to get another bottle from the fridge and comes back with a Founders Stout. “This is perfect.”
She wipes her mouth with a black cloth napkin. “What’s so perfect?”
He shrugs as he watches the condensation build on the side of his bottle that he balances on the knee of his crossed leg. “Great food, great beer, and a beautiful woman to share it with. It’s perfect but I’m a little apprehensive about why it's so perfect. Is there something you want to tell me?”
She finishes the pizza in her mouth before answering. “Well, actually there is something I want to ask. A little favor.”
“I knew it.” He says it like a grand declaration and leans forward. “It can't be that you just want to spend time with me. You want something and I’m betting it isn’t sex. No, that’s too easy. This is for something else, isn’t it?”
The blood rushes to her face and she suddenly feels uncomfortable in her midi dress. “Well not exactly. I didn’t ask you to come over for dinner for that. I mean, I want to do something nice like cook you dinner for a change and maybe watch a movie and hang out, but there is a favor I want to ask.”
He sits back and brings the bottle to his lips. “Go on,” he says and then takes a drink.
“Well, you remember that dinner we had with Ardan, and that’s led to a great supply of hair and all. Everyone is dying to get their hands on it. I’m calling it Rampion, an exclusively luxury brand by Wilhelmina.” She’s talking with her hands, waving them around with enthusiasm.
Marcel looks bored. She knows he doesn’t want to hear about her product line but it's something she’s so proud of, it must be mentioned. It goes with the story, after all. “Anyway, supply and demand are not lining up as planned so I’ve asked Ardan for a tour of his facility. I plan on renegotiating the contract, and seeing if we can somehow procure a larger volume of hair. Maybe find a way to source it faster, speed things up a bit.”
“You asked for what?” There’s a lace of ire in his tone and his body tenses. He’s no longer relaxed but sits up straight and eyes her.
“To tour his facility. I need to see where this hair is processed and make sure everything is as kosher as kosher can be if kosher can even be hair.”
He shakes his head, “what?”
“I have a reputation to live by, Marcel. I need to see where this hair comes from so I can back up my pledge of only sourcing sustainable, real Remy from people who are not being taken advantage of. You know, like poor people.”
He rises to his feet and downs the beer. “No. No, you have to tell him you’re not going. Call him and tell him you don’t need a tour and we’re all good.” He makes his way to the kitchen and grabs a Guinness this time. He chugs it and murmurs to himself, “This can’t be happening. I never should have introduced you to him.”
Mina follows him into the kitchen. “What do you mean? Me meeting Ardan was the best thing to ever happen, business is booming-”
“Your business doesn’t mean shit, Mina.” He’s glaring at her and now she wants to cry. She wonders if she’s made some kind of mistake, a mistake she’s not even aware of. Whatever it is, she’s never seen Marcel so upset.
He lets out air and softens his tone. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean that your business is shit. I mean that in the bigger scheme of things, it’s way over your head. Ardan is-” he stops and looks around like he’s going to pull the words from the air.
“Look, I don’t care whatever you have to say about him, I’m going. This is important to me and I have to do this, Marcel.” Her eyes go blurry with tears. She doesn’t want to cry and doesn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of him. She feels weak and clears her throat to regain her composure.
“I have a brand. Whelemina just isn’t my name, it's a brand and brands mean something to people. If I can’t deliver on my brand then what good am I? All the years I spent living at home, sewing hair extensions together in the middle of the night through college? I didn’t have friends to party with. I had hair and I wove it into the best pieces I could. I hustled to get to where I am now and by God it wasn’t easy but I did it.”
A tear falls from her eye and he palms her chin in his hand. “Please, Marcel. Please help me. I won’t ask you for anything else, only this. Just this one time.”
His lips curl along the edges and she’s winning him over. “What is it then?”
She can see the light at the end of the tunnel again and her spirits are looking up now. “It's simple really. Help me buy a boat, I mean a yacht. I need one in a week.”
“Okay, sure. I know a guy in Malibu who can probably help you.”
She smiles, “Great, thank you. And one more thing-”
He sneers, “ I thought you said it was one thing, not two but go on.”
She takes a breath and says, “Go with me to visit Ardan. I want you to come with me to Eden Island.”