Fifth Place - Cover

Fifth Place

Copyright© 2006 by RPSuch

Chapter 5

A week later she was in our training room showing me her outline for the course. I asked appropriate questions and she gave appropriate answers. We spend a few hours in there going over the materials and as the day waned, employees trickled out, wishing us good night, until only the two of us were left.

There was nothing in our behavior to suggest that this was anything but a strictly business relationship. And it was a business relationship, just not strictly.

"I don't want to stay here any later but we still have some things to discuss about the course."

"Are there really things to discuss, or do you just want another date?" she asked.

"No, I can make a case that there is more to discuss now. I can also make a case that there are other things to discuss."

She nodded.

"Why don't we go back to your place and continue to talk while we make ourselves dinner?"

"Is that actually we, or is it the 'you' we?"

"I'm very good in the kitchen, among other rooms."

"Good. You can make dinner. I'm okay in the kitchen, but nothing special."

"No. I want to do it together. It's a good way to learn intangible things about each other."

She frowned.

"Is this a course you've worked out on relationship building?"

"No, divorce avoidance. A little extra work at hormone time would prevent a lot of divorces."

"Because they wouldn't get married?"

"Exactly."

We talked about what she had to work with in her kitchen and decided to go shopping. She didn't keep the place fully stocked. I picked up two salmon steaks, a few scallions, a small jar of sesame seeds, a small jar of sesame oil and a head of cauliflower. She had garlic, carrots and broccoli at home.

"So, I take it you're not expecting to get lucky tonight," she said. "Neither of us is going to smell very good."

"No, I'm expecting to get very lucky."

I said it slowly and with apparent sincerity. She raised her doubtful eyebrows. I got a confused look on my face.

"Oh, you were talking about sex. I meant I was going to be with a fascinating woman and get to know her much better tonight."

She appeared doubtful, then thoughtful, then amused.

"You were toying with me, weren't you?"

I smiled.

She didn't have a fine grater so she had to use a cheese grater to zest half an orange. I told her to mix it in a bowl with the sesame seeds.

Meanwhile I placed the scallion on a cutting board, put the tip of a large vegetable knife on the board and started chopping small, dark green ringlets. I had to move the knife to complete the job so it took around five seconds.

I cut rings from the onion end and shoved them into a frying pan with a couple pats of butter.

"Damn. Did you go to some culinary school?"

She added 4 pinches of salt to her mixture and stirred it.

I sliced the carrot into quarters and proceeded to cut it essentially the same way as the scallion.

"No, but I read and I've had lots of practice."

The carrot went into the frying pan.

"Preheat the oven on broil."

I cut the broccoli and cauliflower as close to the florets as I could manage. There's nothing wrong with eating a little bit of the stalk, but I think it's more esthetically pleasing this way.

"Rub a little of the sesame oil on top of the salmon steaks with your fingers. Make sure it's pretty well covered, but that shouldn't take much oil."

The broccoli and cauliflower joined the frying pan and I turned the flame on medium.

I put two cloves of garlic on the cutting board and smacked each with the flat of the knife. The skin peeled off with little effort.

"I apologize if it's obvious, but wash and dry your hands before you sprinkle the mixture on top of the salmon."

I smacked each clove, harder this time, holding the knife on top of each in turn.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"I read that it breaks more cell walls than slicing them and it releases more flavor."

I added the squashed garlic to the frying pan and it started to sizzle.

"It adds flavor to the mix, but if you don't like garlic, the pieces are big enough to avoid this way."

"You know an awful damn lot about cooking. Are you sure you're not really a chef?"

"I love to cook. I think it's time to put the fish in the broiler. It should only take eleven or twelve minutes in there."

She put it in and started to set the table.

"What kind of work does your wife do?"

"I think she's retired."

"You think?"

"Well, she doesn't work. She doesn't clean. She often cooks and she spends about as much time with the kids as I do, so I guess she's either a part-time housewife or she's retired."

I continued to stir the sautéing vegetables.

"I take it that's not what you're looking for. What are you looking for? It wasn't always like that, was it?"

"Of course not. Who would get married with that expectation? Well, I guess lots of people would, but not me.

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