A Second Harvest
“He settled down to work by 7:00 a.m. with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. He knew if he got his usual slow start, he’d be distracted all day, and he couldn’t let his new enthusiasm for cooking derail the progress he was making at work.By three he finished his mock-ups and uploaded them to the cloud where his manager could look at them and comment. With happy relief he signed off for the day and allowed himself to think about tonight’s meal. By three thirty he was at the grocery store to pick up the fresh ingredients.He was stupidly excited about making Moroccan tonight for himself and David. He had a warning voice in his head. Be careful. Don’t get too friendly with this guy. David Fisher is not gay. This wasn’t like meeting some nice New Yorker to date. Hell, David probably didn’t even want to be his friend. They had nothing in common.Except, possibly, an interest in exotic food.Even though those warnings were all true, Christie was a left-brain, instinctual kind of guy.
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