Read Online Mia Like Crazy by Nina Cordoba - Free Book Online

top of the blouse open for speculation. I never would have admitted it at the time, but I fell in love with the outfit because I could visualize myself descending the staircase wearing it in the real-life version of Dynasty I had planned for myself. But although I’d purchased it some time before, I’d never had the nerve or occasion to wear it.
    This was certainly not the time. I dismissed the outfit, thinking how ridiculous it would be to choose it when I wasn’t even certain what answer I was going to give Drew yet.
    ~
    Thirty minutes later, I descended the stairs wearing a slim black skirt, low cut lavender blouse and the highest heels I owned, still not sure what had gotten into me.
    Drew was sitting at the table. He had a fork in one hand and the newspaper in the other. When he looked up, the utensil froze halfway to his mouth. I thought he looked like a pop art sculpture: “Man with Fork.” He appeared unable to move or even blink until my feet descended the steps and touched the floor. Then he recovered, looked back at his paper, and murmured a greeting.
    I was flattered, yet not completely satisfied because I was used to getting a little more direct attention from men. Since he hadn’t had the decency to compliment me after I’d gone all out, I found myself trying to goad him into it.
    “Are you all right, Drew?” I asked with mock concern. “For a minute there, you looked like you weren’t breathing.”
    “I was afraid you couldn’t make it down the steps with those shoes,” he replied. “I think shoes like those are only meant to be worn in a horizontal position. You’re not actually supposed to walk in them.”
    A feeling of humiliation washed over me, but I couldn’t let him know it. “Thanks for the tip,” I said. “I’ll keep it in mind next time I wear them.”
    He motioned to the seat across from him, so I sat down. “Do you eat bacon and eggs and stuff, or are you on some kind of skinny lawyer diet?”
    Skinny? I might qualify for “slender,” but “skinny”? That was only one notch away from “scrawny.” Was that how he saw me? Great, I was even more self-conscious.
    “I eat all the normal stuff.”
    “How do you like your eggs?” He stood and picked up his plate.
    “Scrambled.” I was grateful for any reprieve. Anything that would postpone the inevitable discussion. This was the most life-altering decision I’d made since junior high, because that was when I’d planned out my whole life. I’d followed the plan until the day I quit the firm.
    A few minutes after he disappeared into the kitchen, Drew returned with a plate and set it down in front of me. It contained scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast with butter. I realized I really was hungry, despite the heavy feeling I’d had in the pit of my stomach all morning.
    “Is there someone in there cooking this?” I wondered out loud.
    “Just me,” he answered.
    I began eating and was surprised at how quickly I cleaned the plate.
    “Wow, do you always eat like that?” he asked.
    “I think I’m in a calorie deficit from yesterday, and this is pretty good. How is it you know how to cook?”
    “It was my prison job.”
    “Oh.” I was sorry I asked. That was the last thing I wanted to talk about this morning.
    He smiled, apparently pleased he’d made a fool of me. “Actually, I learned when I was a kid. Satan didn’t like to take care of me, and I didn’t want to live on cold hot dogs and peanut butter sandwiches, so I taught myself to cook.”
    So, the first distasteful statement was a joke, and the second heart-wrenching one was the truth. I wondered if I would ever get used to Drew’s weird sense of humor or his sudden bursts of brutal honesty.
    Not knowing what else to say, I told the truth, too. “My dad wasn’t around and my mom…well, couldn’t take care of me much of the time, but it didn’t teach me any homemaking skills.”
    “Yeah, I noticed.” He appeared to be teasing me more than judging me, so I