She drew back with a guilty look. “I had to go to the bathroom. Sorry.” She scooted over to the corner where another padded chair was set. “Besides, we’re really busy. I should be out there helping.”
Maris noted that Anachelle made no mention to Ture about Bertram and what he’d done. It said a lot about her character that she kept that to herself, and didn’t seek to harm someone who was obviously unkind by nature.
“And I don’t want you to jeopardize that baby. Fold napkins!”
“Yes, sir.” Huffing, she dutifully reached for the cart beside her and pulled a burgundy napkin down so that she could turn it into an intricate star shape. She placed it in a plastic container of other like creations.
Maris smiled at Ture’s kindness. “I’ve never seen you bossy before.”
“You’re not the only one who can be commanding.” He wrinkled his nose playfully. “Would you like to see a menu?”
“Your house. Your rules. I’ll eat anything other than small children and infants or rodents.”
Ture squeezed his arm. “All right. One serving of mystery appetizer coming up.”
As Ture headed toward the main cooking area, Maris turned back to Anachelle who watched him curiously. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I like you a lot better than his last boyfriend. He was a total asshole, which is why I think it’s been so long since Ture last dated anyone at all. And I mean a l-o-n-g time. You seem very sweet.”
Okay... He wasn’t sure what to make of her or that comment. “I’m not his boyfriend. We’re just friends.”
“If you say so.”
“You don’t believe me?”
She reached for another napkin. “I see how you two look at each other. Even from over here, I got a little singed.”
Maris didn’t know why, but he really liked her. “Here...” He moved her chair closer to the table then positioned his so that she could put her feet up on his thigh. “You need to keep them elevated or they’ll swell.”
She arched a brow at him. “Know a lot of pregnant women, do you?”
“My best friend’s wife is expecting so I’ve done my homework to keep him sane and Zarya from doing something stupid.”
Her face lit up at the name. “Zarya Starska?”
“You know her?” Maris asked, surprised by her enthusiasm.
“Oh, I love and adore her! She used to come in and eat all the time. This table was actually put here just for her... How is my girl? I haven’t seen her in forever. I’ve missed her so. Is she really pregnant?”
“Fine, and yes.”
She laughed at his simple answers to her chaotic rambling. “Well then, it’s settled. You must be good people for Zarya to like you. She trusts very few.”
“It speaks a lot for you, too.” Maris slid her shoes off then sipped his wine in between massaging her feet for her. “When’s your baby due?”
“Another month.”
“Boy or girl?”
Her smile faded. “Boy.”
Maris frowned at her sad tone. “You and his father must be excited.”
She clenched her teeth as her eyes darkened with anger. “His father is a married man who ran back to his wife and blocked my calls the moment he found out I was pregnant.”
He winced at the cruelty. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. On behalf of the male species, I would like to thoroughly beat him senseless for being a bastard.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Please, call me Maris or Mari.”
Ture approached with an amused expression as he caught sight of her feet in Maris’s hands. “Are you two cozy enough?”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Maris did it.”
Maris gasped indignantly at her quick exclamation. “Did I just get thrown under a shuttle? I hope someone got the serial number of it.”
Smiling, Ture set a plate of cheeses with sauce drizzled over them and a separate plate of crackers. “Not at all. I appreciate your taking care of my girl. Someone needs to.”
Anachelle made a sound of supreme annoyance. “He thinks I’m a stray dog. He even took me into his apartment to live until after the baby comes.”
“I never thought you were a stray dog, sweets. Just down your luck, which sadly happens to all of us at some point.” Ture poured more wine for Maris. Then he indicated the paste in a small bowl on the cracker plate. “That’s a pate’ with almonds and gixon. If you don’t like it, let me know and I can grab you something else.”
“It looks and smells delicious.”
Ture pulled several small packets out of his pocket for Maris to use to sanitize his hands. “I’m making your Chipped Oryan myself so I better get back to it before it scorches.”
As soon as he was gone, Anachelle leaned in to whisper. “It really is the best you’ll ever taste, but don’t feed Ture’s ego. He’s arrogant enough about his culinary skills.”
As soon as Maris tasted the pate’, he understood why. “Oh my God, this is fabulous!” He filled a cracker for Anachelle. “Would you like some?”
“Pregnant and hungry all the time... Absolutely. Thank you.” She took it from him and reached for her bottled water that was near the napkins. “So what do you do for a living, my... Maris.”