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Where The Heart Stayed

Where The Heart Stayed

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Chapter 1 Lunch Hour Confessions

Word Count: 1516    |    Released on: 26/04/2025

n't usually one for long lunches, but it was a Friday in summer, and I owed Nancy a favor after bailing on a play she'd wanted to see. As an editor always chasing fresh

er, was ver

wagyu slices were out of the question for a person seven months pregnant. Nancy was tall and waifish, with dyed-periwinkle hair and pale white skin. She had dark freckles across her cheeks and al

orer look, tan trousers, white button-down, suspenders - he was unmistakable. Next to him, I felt underdressed in my free Everything Café T-shirt, old light-wash jeans

ehow I had not planned for this outing in the slightest. To be fair, it w

eed. "It's much better than that

njoy how all of their drinks

y Dickinson gave me

now that article I sent you? The one in Eater? The author, Alfred Chado, is th

book with us?" Nancy ask

r, a plebeian? Absolutely not. A cookbook would be

n Saturday, as I hauled a record player into the elevator, Nancy confessed she'd never swim in the ocean again. Still, Dave had a gift - he could see what s

between the two of us. "My instincts were right abou

still getting over the play I saw last week

amusement park thriller. It's going to be phenomenal. And this chef . . . I know this chef is special. I

e's a story ther

here is. Ri

ooked at me

d in that way of hers that will end up making their future c

tes food to friendship and memories-I want him." He turned his hungry gaze toward the kitchen. "I

ilding - but mostly stuck to Midtown, where options were limited. I'd eaten more food truck sandwiches and lobster mac and chee

his dessert menu," I said, pointing to the first i

nformed us as Nancy snatched the menu from me t

with some granular sugar on a graham cr

it is, we should probably order it and he

sert menu at me. "No one works on Fridays i

men in the business. If there was a bestseller to be had in a book, she knew exactly how to squeeze it out, and that was a talent in and of itself.

eement. "Murphy's

herself sick this morning because of her boyfr

o-Rob," Da

eo-Rob,"

er elbows on the table. Oh, I knew that look, and I inwardly supp

ou and Fr

r she stared at me waiting for an answer, the less resolve I h

ersonally insulted. "Last mont

. The night you all

Dave added, more curious

hat's important! And it's been over a month? Yo

ugged. "It was over text messages. I think h

le anyway." Which was true, but I didn't include the fight we had before the texts. Fight was a strong wo

?" he'd asked. "You know this is my

ight of a gallery with his work. He was an artist-a m

remember what the emergency had been to make me stay late. He was quiet for a long moment,

're

had to be. People had enough to worry about without adding me to the list. That was the whole appeal of Lola Figmud: she always

en know you anymore. You won't open up, won't be vulnerable. Wh

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