Gina Calanni - How To Bake The Perfect Christmas Cake

“True. But now that I think about it, I wouldn’t want Airbnb to be your means of extra earning potential.” Jack switches his turn signal and I notice we are headed south on Highway 83. My curiosity is further piqued as to which restaurant location he will choose. We are getting closer to the Waterfront cafes. If the windows were open, I’m sure we would get a waft of the ocean.

Jack is driving down the streets like a local, if I didn’t know better I would have assumed he grew up here. Several turns and the car begins to slow down to a searching pace. Jack is on the hunt for street-side parking. I smirk at this. Parking on the street within steps of the harbor is a hit or miss on most days but a Saturday in December? The car jolts to a halt stop. Unbelievable. A person is backing out of a spot. And right in front of The Platters. Hmm…is this the place he had in mind? Platters is one of Brianna’s and my favorite brunch spots, especially when we are nursing hangovers. They have a Hang Me Over My Yammies Pancakes and Patties breakfast to cure any headache and weak stomach. I don’t know what they put in this dish, but it works . Every time. Jack steers the car into the too-small-for-me-to-park space with two adjustments. Impressive.

“Come on, my little wild hare, a feast awaits us.” Jack’s eyes flash a wicked hunger.

When I’m hungry I get like a sad Panda until I get some form of nourishment and my blood sugars start rising. I raise my eyebrows at him. “Okay, Hawk-eye.” I grab the car handle and step out onto the street. Brr. It is cold, even with my navy pea coat and white scarf. I’m freezing. Jack rushes around to my side of the car and wraps an arm over my shoulder.

“I’m okay with the idea of Hawk-Eye…but I never really bonded with his character.” He is guiding us directly towards the entrance of The Platters. My stomach gurgles. The sounds of cars are loud enough to ensure Jack did not hear it.

“Well I haven’t bonded with the idea of a wild hare…so I guess we are even?” I air quote the operative word.

Jack laughs. “But, Lauren, you are my wild hare.” He leans down and kisses my head. Little tingles flow down my body like sand in an hourglass filling up the lower half and causing an eruption of emotion.

I’m blaring ‘Fever’ in my internal sound system and flames are igniting everywhere, but Jack is steering us in through the doors. The smiling hostess feasts her eyes on Jack and I furrow my brows. Um hello, he’s obviously with a date.

“Hi there, how many in your party?” She sticks the top of ballpoint pen in between her puckered lips.

“Two, please.” Jack squeezes my hand.

“Sure thing, right this way.” She motions come hither to us. We follow behind her as she navigates a straight path to the window overlooking the harbor. I’ll never get tired of seeing this. There are a few sailboats in the water and a brave kayaker. He appears to have on a full wetsuit, but still it’s got to be at least forty degrees outside and next to the water it’s always chillier. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to fall in.

I slide into my chair and pick up the menu in front of me. I’m starving.

“Two coffees, please.” Jack says to the hostess.

“Anything for you, honey, I’ll send your waitress right over.” She stands in front of our table for a second too long.

I roll my eyes at my menu.

“What’s on your mind?” Jack cocks his head to the right.

“Nothing but food.” Obviously I’m not going to mention Miss. Flirty-pants, this would only make me seem insecure, which I am not.

“Me too. I read online they have creamy lemon ricotta pancakes.” Jack wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I laugh and nod my head. “Sounds tasty, I think I’m going to go with my favorite Hang Me Over My Yammies and Patties.”

“Do you have a hangover?” Jack’s eyebrows furrow.

“No, do you?” I raise one eyebrow at him and purse my lips.

“A couple of glasses of wine is not enough to give me one.” Jack reaches for my hand. “I do have a different type of hangover though.”

The sides of my mouth pull up. “Oh really, what’s that?’

“A Lauren hangover.” His eyes are flickering at me.

“Hmm…Well, a hangover is usually a bad thing.”

“It might be, but I don’t want a cure.” Jack pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.

“Two coffees?” A curly redhead is holding two steaming cups in front of us.

“Yes, please.” Rescued by coffee, that was a close one. “Could I have some cream, please?”

“Sure, what can I get you for breakfast?” She grabs out a pen and takes down our order and trots away towards the back of the restaurant.

“So what’s a typical day like here for you?” Jack pries into my eyes.

“A typical Saturday?” I furrow my eyes. Surely Jack doesn’t want to hear about my weekend errands and blue moon excursions with Brianna.

“Any day, I want to know more about you and your world.” Jack taps me underneath the table with his foot. I’m not sure if this is an attempt at footsies, an accident, or cue for me to spill my boring daily life with him.

“Oh, well on Friday I was offered a huge promotion at work.” My shoulders rise and fall, thinking about the offer makes me a bit nervous but extremely proud. This is the biggest promotion I have ever received.

“Wow, Lauren, congratulations! That’s great news. What does the new promotion entail?” Jack is grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, I’m going to have my own team to manage and I get to select them myself, which is pretty cool.”

The waitress returns with my cream and places it down next to me without a word, she must be one of those hands-off servers. “Thank you.” I manage to say as her back is turned to me. Oh well, I tried to be polite.

“That’s fantastic. Do you have candidates lined up?” Jack takes a sip of his coffee.

“I’ve got my eyes on a few people, but I don’t have to choose anyone until January.” I drizzle a few drops of cream into my cup and stir it with the silver spoon.

Jack nods his head. “I’ve got my eyes on some new candidates as well.”

“For the retirement home?” I squint my eyes.

“No, it’s a special project I’m trying to get off the ground.” Jack raises his cup to me.

“With your architecture firm?” Where is Jack going with this?

“No, it’s more of a personal project, not exactly job related.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He glances at the face. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this. If the food arrives, please go ahead and begin.” He stands up and walks towards the exit. The door opens, but I’m sure they aren’t seating anyone on the deck due to the temperature.

I pull out my own phone from my purse and tap on the display. As I figured, I’ve got several text messages. My phone was on vibrate since last night. I don’t like to sleep with the ringer on in case anyone decides to reach me in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

The first text message is from Brianna: So…deets. Give me the scoop.

Ten minutes after that is a second message: Seriously, are you still in bed?

Five minutes later, a third message: Oh, I see…this is how you’re going to play this? Not cool. Take a mini-make-out break and run to the bathroom and call me.

I text back: We are at breakfast, I’ll call you later.

I text once more: Remember, patience is a virtue.

Brianna texts back: So is decency, you shouldn’t make me wait. ;)

I roll my eyes. As if Brianna would be dialing up my number while hanging out with Owen. The final message is from Megan.