Chapter Five
There was a knock on the door just as Jensen picked up the pot of noodles to drain them. Throwing the towel over his shoulder, he turned in the direction of the door and called out. “Come in, doors unlocked!”
Amanda swept in the door with a flourish and plopped on the stool that was at the bar. “I brought you that list of questions. We really should go over them.”
“List of…” Jensen tried to remember what she was talking about as he shook the strainer and put the noodles back in the pan. “Oh. The list of questions the kids like to ask Flynn. Right. Thank you.”
“Oh, Jen, don’t be silly. What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t help you out any way I could?”
“I just didn’t expect you to show up so soon.”
“Oh, well, if I’m bothering you,” Amanda went to stand, but Jensen shook his head to stop her.
“No, no, sit. Eat," Jensen pushed her gently back into the chair. "I made more than enough.”
“Are you sure? I could come back later.”
“No, Amanda - what kind of friend would I be if I let you go away hungry when I had more than enough?”
Amanda beamed at him as she took of her sweater and settled comfortably into the seat. “Such a gentleman.”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Jensen laughed.
“Too late.” Amanda leaned forward to talk to him as he scooped noodles and sauce into mismatched bowls. “You already showed it at the bar the other night. Word has already gotten around.”
“Dammit, I was hoping to be the bad boy around here.” Jensen handed Amanda her bowl before turning back to the oven to get the garlic bread out.
“Well, if you want I can start telling stories about how I came over here and you manhandled me.”
“I dunno, manhandled might be a bit much.”
Amanda shrugged. “It’s what the bad boys do.” She paused in talking to take a bite of the pasta in front of her. “Okay, this is amazing. I can tell everyone you seduced me with your cooking skills.”
Jensen chuckled. “That I can live with. Now what are some of these questions?”
“No,” Amanda shook her head almost violently, “we eat now, talk later. Don’t ruin this masterpiece with talk about work.”
“Fine. Eat first, talk later.” Jensen joined her at the bar and dug into his own bowl of spaghetti with another smile. With co-workers like these, he was going to have no problem at all enjoying his job.
**--**--**
“All right, one more time, Flynn, can you show me the smoulder?” Amanda leaned back, her arms crossed over her chest.
Jensen thought for a moment, biting his lip. “Sure.” Schooling his features the best he could, he attempted the look he had seen in countless pictures that had been in the instruction booklet he had been given. He watched Amanda’s face for any sign of success on his part. “Well?”
Amanda hesitated. “I think maybe it needs some work.”
Jensen’s face fell.
Amanda touched his arm in sympathy. “But we have time - loads of time.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Look, I’ll make you a deal. You keep making me dinner and I will teach you how to do the smoulder so well that it will go on the books as one of the most smouldery smoulders that ever did smoulder.”
“You sure?”
“Jen, smoulders don’t just happen. You have to work at them.”
“I’m going to have to take you word for it, I guess.”
“Yeah, well, neither of us will be disappointed.” Amanda took a bite of the bread in front of her. “This is fabulous.”
Jensen nodded. “I kind of like to cook.”
“Well, I kind of like to boss boys around. I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.”
Jensen took their empty bowls to the sink. “You think?”
“Sure I do. Now. I have one question for you.”
“Hmm? What’s that?”
Amanda smiled sweetly. “Exactly how many frying pan hits can a human head take?”
Jensen turned back to her. “Well, I would say that one is too many. At least for me. But if I was the one giving them, and I had a good reason, I would say that one more would be just enough.”
“Nice. You’re learning.”
Jensen grinned back.
“But not too fast, okay? I don’t want to starve - all right, Eugene?”
“Excuse me? What did you call me?” Jensen slipped back into character.
“Uh, Eugene. It’s your name.”
“No, my name is Flynn.”
“That’s what the posters say at least.”
“The posters aren’t a good source of information. They never get my nose right.”
“Or your purse.”
“Okay, now that’s a low blow.” Jensen playfully threw the towel on the counter. “It’s a satchel.”
“Oh, I see. A satchel.”
“Yes, not a purse. Satchels are manly. And I am manly. Therefore, it is a satchel.”
“Well, let me ask you this then - if it’s a satchel, why do you carry a tiara around in it?”
“It’s a crown. It’s a satchel. It’s my thing, don’t question it.”
Amanda laughed. “That’s the spirit, Jen! I think you’re going to be just fine as Flynn. Now, let’s work on the smoulder - you have a mirror?”
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