’ She left the checkout. Stew frowned, throughout the years he and Rosangela were friends and co-workers he never saw her in such a state. He leane... with his elbow on the counter and rested his chin against his hand. He watched her sluggishly stroll away with the load of books. He huffed, knew immediately that his friend likely had fallen for the author in those short few days. Stew’s observation, Rosangela was desperate to deny to herself. She wanted to believe it was impossible to want more. "That earned her a squinty sideways look, but she only laughed."Lunch?" she wondered and my freshly uncursed belly rumbled.The tests went well. First, Lora introduced me to Max, a lean, olive-skinned chef who'd made the very good pasta I'd enjoyed for lunch. Shecajoled us both into the head chef's little office, grinned fiercelyand closed the door on us. We both stared at each other a moment, Ipretended to read a couple of notices behind the door, he looked at hisphone."How long does it usually. More

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