“Sounds like I was on some good drugs. How old was I?”
“Fifteen.” Evie did the mental math and made note of the year. She’d have to go back and check her journals. “I feel like you owe me another apology.”
“Oh, I’ll apology you good.” He leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth. When he pulled back, she was surprised her glasses weren’t steamed up. He flashed her that cocky smile, claiming his job well done without saying a word.
“Come down here. Meet Sam’s horse, Majesty.”
Majesty was a gorgeous all-black horse with a beautiful black mane, but she didn’t seem to give a shit about their visit or the fact that Zach had apples.
“Fine, then more for Steve.”
Majesty stomped her hooves and blew a breath out of her nose as if she was telling them to fuck off. A sudden wave of fatigue hit Evie. Maybe it was the quiet of the barn or maybe she’d pushed herself too far, socializing and talking to horses. She tried to cover a yawn, but Zach caught it.
“Let’s get you home.” They stopped once more at Steve’s stall and gave him the apples. Evie watched as Zach literally kissed the horse on its face. “Night, bud.” If it was possible, Evie was sure Steve would have said goodnight back.
When Zach stepped away, Evie pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture of Steve. She sent it to Blaire. No barn sex, but I met a great horse named Steve.
Chapter 17
“Why is this so hard?” Evie looked down in the pan as her egg yolk started to spill out of the side of the slowly cooking white. There was nothing over-easy about this. “Darn it, I ruined it. I’ll eat this one.” She reached for the spatula and flipped the egg and finished frying it all the way through.
“I’ll eat it. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Vega said. Evie could hear the regretful wince in Vega’s voice even though her back was to her.
Vega had asked a simple question. Did Evie know how she liked her eggs? Evie had no clue. She’d enjoyed the few ways Miss Leona had shown her how to prepare them, but the next thing she knew, she and Vega were going down an internet rabbit-hole of cooking videos. After they watched a woman cook an egg in the dishwasher, Evie realized it was time to get to work. Almost a dozen eggs later and she was starting to know the true meaning of frustration.
“No, no, you were right. I need to know this. If there are four hundred ways to prepare an egg, I should figure out which is my favorite. And if I ever get back to work, I need to know how to make things the way people want them. I might love a frittata, but I can’t become the frittata champion of the world.”
“I mean, true. Or you can be one of those snooty chefs who sets their menu, and people just take what they give them. Well, snooty chefs and my mother. She can make eggs fifty-eleven ways, but if you catch her cooking before work, its fried or nothing.”
“Well, I have that down.” Evie looked over at the pan on the right burner. It looked like the water was almost ready. “I should have waited for Miss Leona or Lilah. Ugh! That carbonara recipe was like forty-eight steps. This is like two. Acquire egg. Cook it.”
“Sorry.” Vega groaned even louder. “I know my way around the human body. Not a kitchen.”
“No, we’re gonna do this. Here.” She served up the egg she’d accidently fried through and through on a small plate and placed it on the island, then turned back to the stove. “Okay.” She picked up another one of the eggs she’d managed to retrieve in an incident-free trip to the coop. “You don’t like me, egg, and I don’t like you. But I’m going to poach you and you’re going to take it.”
“You got this. Poach that egg,” Vega said with a few claps.
Evie pulled up the video on her phone again. Then went to work. She cracked the egg into the small saucer she had standing by, then gently poured it into the simmering water. She had the recommended vinegar on standby, but she wanted to try one without it. She watched as the clear white began to thicken.
“Miss Leona mentioned food waste, but it’s not wasteful if we give some eggs to the dogs, is it?” Evie glanced over at Euca and Poppy, who had long grown tired of their unsupervised culinary adventure.
“I mean I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Evie gave herself a little shake and tried to focus. This egg would be perfect. It would not become dog food. A few minutes later she grabbed a large spoon and scooped the warm, soft egg out of the water. A dash of salt and pepper, then she handed it over to Vega. She watched as she used the side of her fork to slice into the egg.
“Well?”
Vega took a bite, then held up her thumb. “Perfect, but you know what it needs?”
“What?”
“More egg.”
“Very funny.”
“No. It would be perfect with toast.” Vega hopped up and threw some of the leftover brioche in the fancy toaster oven.
“Make me some too.” Evie said as she cracked another egg.