God In The Kitchen Read Online Free PDF

her.
                “I look forward to hearing from you,” I said before I fully thought of what the phrase might sound like. I had meant that I was looking forward to talking to her again and maybe even seeing her in person. Once the sentence was out, however, it might have sounded as if I was looking forward to hearing from her because it would mean she had my money ready.
                “Okay then,” Chloe said, wrapping up the conversation.
                I expected her to say good-bye but instead she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
                “What do you mean?” I asked with surprise.
                “You’re Jared Jones,” she said emphasizing my name. “THE Jared Jones. You’re on the radio.”
                I thought it was strange that she expected me to divulge this bit of information. It wasn’t like I walked around everyday introducing myself to random people. Was I supposed to say ‘Hi, I’m Jared Jones, radio personality extraordinaire’?
                “I guess I didn’t think it was important,” I said.
                “Oh, it’s important,” she said. “I’ll be in touch. Thanks again.”
                And then, she was gone.

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
    The rest of the day flew by with the corporate conference call. By the time the corporate office was done yammering on, I had to rush straight from the office to the coffee shop to meet Abigail.
                I felt a bit harried as I entered the shop a mere 15 minutes later. I ran my hand through my hair and attempted to look put together. I hoped I had still beat Abigail so I could get a cup of coffee for myself, choose a seat, and calm my nerves.
                My hopes of being early were quickly dashed as I spotted Abigail’s striking hair from across the room. She had her hands wrapped around a warm mug.
                I studied her from the entrance, taking in her downcast eyes as she read a document. When she took her next sip, she glanced up and caught me staring. She lifted the fingers of one hand from her mug in a small wave and gave me a brilliant smile. Her eyes didn’t light up as I’d hoped, but at least she smiled. I knew I had my work cut out for me.
                I gestured to the board to indicate to her that I was going to get a drink. I ordered black coffee and a couple of muffins. Working in the early morning hours meant that I was hungry at odd hours. I often ate breakfast when I got up and then I was ready for lunch by about 10. Now, in the late afternoon hours, I was famished for dinner.
                The barista smiled and gave me a knowing look as I placed my order. She had recognized my voice, I was sure of it. I did not encourage her with a smile and I kept my head down as I paid for my drink and muffins.
                I grabbed my own warm mug and muffins the minute they were pushed my direction and headed for the table near the back of the room.
                “We meet again,” I said as I sat down.
                “So it seems,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the document as she placed it inside a folder by her feet.
                “That looked like an interesting read,” I said, trying to make light conversation.
                “It was a contract,” she said. “For my next book.”
                “You’re writing another one?” I asked, feeling the guilt slide through my veins as I recalled the fact that I had not yet even read page one of the first one.
                “I haven’t yet, but they want me to start soon. Sales were good and they’ve ordered a second printing.”
                “That’s great news!” I exclaimed a bit too loudly.
                “It is, I’m really excited,” she said. “I’m not really sure what to do