AN: You guys are super great! Like really, really. The response and the alerts to the first chapter of this story were amazing. I'm glad you want this to continue because I've actually got a lot of ideas for this journey. And you need to hold on, especially in this chapter. Remember it has got to be a little sad before you can truly appreciate the happiness in life.

So, here's your second installment of this story.

Sliding into the private booth, I immediately grasp my glass of wine, wanting to cool down. I feel a pair of glaring eyes on me but don't search for them to find mine, instead I look around the warm lit restaurant; beautiful orange/red pictures covering the walls, candles on every table, the Bordeaux and brown painted bar-like counter and the few green plants placed in some of the corners. The ceiling is softly decorated with neatly engraved stucco and I can't help but wonder why I haven't noticed that before. Feeling the eyes bore themselves into my cheek, I slowly turn my head to catch the look my girlfriend is giving me. I know what they're asking and right now I just want to drink my wine, and then head home. Sensing the tense atmosphere at this dinner table, I place my glass down and smile.

"What?" I say sweetly as if I haven't just been out in a restaurant's kitchen, complaining about the chef's food.

"What did he say?" Kimberley asks, giving me the best fake smile she knows. I know she's on the verge to finish up her wine so she can go home and bitch about the horrible meal, I made her eat tonight. And on our mutual day off, nonetheless. How do I dare? But for once I just wanted her to be a part of my life, to actually want to be a part of my life. And this restaurant has become like a sacred place for me. I don't really know why, it just has. It's not the friendly environment alone, or the beauty this place holds, or even the heavenly food – because it really is divine, heavenly heaved divine. It's just something about this place that has me drawn in and…"Um, hello…Arizona?"

"Oh. Sorry," I pull myself out of my thoughts, knowing very well that if I want to have a nice evening – or try to keep the mood as good as it can be after her failed dinner – I need to plaster on my biggest, shiniest and most indulgent smile. "Actually, it was a she. And she informed us, that if you wanted to try another salmon, she could make you one for your next visit. That's kind of her, isn't it?" I try, still smiling.

"Well, that's to be expected I suppose," Kimberley shrugs. "But she can keep her salmon and other dishes, we're not coming back," she says as she raises, gathering her things under her arm.

"Whoa, hold on. You don't get to decide where I'm gonna eat. I like it here," I counter, mirroring her actions and gathering my coat and purse. No one will ever be able to tell me what to do, not if I don't think that it's okay. That's just not how it works and Kimberley knows that, too. "And I wanted you to come here and see for yourself how mesmerizing this place is. I wanted you to see why I come here every chance I get."

"That's very cute, Arizona. Really, it is," she says, cupping my cheek with her free hand. "But I just don't see what you possibly could be so fond of about this…this place," Kimberley's eyes shine and the annoyance that got in the irises before is now replaced by the look. The look. The look, that makes me feel less than her because it's like she's looking at me as if I were a toddler or something. But she means it well, it's just how she shows affection. So actually, I should be happy about that look. I haven't really felt appreciated or loved these last couples of months. So the cheek cupping is really nice.

Or it should feel nice but I can't seem to lose the feeling of another hand touching my skin, my hand. Callie's hand. Callie. Such a beautiful and deep name. The way her hand, Callie's hand, had pressed itself into mine had been overwhelming, overpowering. Like a jolt of excitement running through my entire body. It had been nice to finally put a face on the skilled maker of the amazing, life changing sauce. The sauce that from the first time I tasted it had run straight to my heart, firing up every ounce of my aching body. And it wasn't just the face, it was everything Callie oozed. Everything that woman represented. Power, control, passion, dedication and drive. And all I know about her is the confident look she wore when I entered her kitchen, her ability to create marvelous food and her smooth, smooth skin. Her deep eyes where, I swear, I could fish for all the salmons she'd ever want. Her naked, full lips. And I would've given anything to see how that raven colored hair beneath the chef hat looked like. I don't need the length of her hair to tell me that this woman is sensuality in all the words glory, it doesn't matter anyway. This woman would be able to make me do anything she wanted. And I would let her.

"Shall we?" Kimberley breaks my reminiscing. Quickly pushing the beautiful woman to the back of my head, I give my girlfriend a polite smile and nod. As she takes my hand, I glance over my shoulder to find the swing doors swinging open and a waitress bringing dishes out as if she'd done it her entire life. The swing of the doors gives me one final look at the mysterious woman in white. Sighing I squeeze Kimberley's hand and once again walk out of the restaurant, but this time very well aware of why I desperately need to come back.

Locking myself into my apartment I'm greeted with a brown haired woman, lounging in my couch. She doesn't look up or even show any sign of having heard me entering. I lean down over the couch's back, pressing a kiss to cheek. "Hi," I whisper while catching what has got my girlfriend so caught up. "You brought home work? Again?"

"You're one to talk," she chuckles. "You always bring work home."

"Yeah, that's because I live here, you don't. I need to bring it here. You, on the other hand, don't," I sigh as I round the corner of the hall to finally get to my bedroom. I need to get into some comfy clothes to lighten the tension that has somehow trapped my body these days. "I want you here, not your work," I call as I shrug out of my clothes. Is that really too much to ask for? One's girlfriend to want to be with you, fully and completely? But do I really want Kimberley to be that one?

"You okay?" Kimberley asks from the doorframe, making me jump on the edge of the bed where I'm sitting. Really? Compassion? That's new.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem… I don't know, off?"

"Crappy day at work," I shrug and rise to grab my brush, running it through my day-tousled hair. "You wanna go out? I think I could use some good cooking right about now," I suggest, giving her a smile. Because after all it isn't her fault entirely that this day sucks. She just added to the sucki-ness by bringing her work to my apartment.

"Aw, I can't. I need to work, Arizona," she apologizes while pointing over her shoulder with her thumb. "I need to get this finished otherwise my boss'll kill me. You know Ronan," she sighs and scrunches up her face in disgust.

"I do. So I take it that you're not going to eat anything?" Sliding a hair band into my hair to keep it from falling in my eyes, I just look in the mirror. It's always like this. She needs to work and every time she really needs to work, she doesn't eat. And I'm starving. I need food, I need company. I just need something, someone.

"Can't, I'm sorry, Zona," Kimberley pouts as she moves to stand beside me in front of the mirror. It always makes me want to vomit when she uses that nickname. It's cheesy and lacks imagination. When she curls an arm around my shoulders, I have to bite myself in the inside of my cheek to actually believe that this contact, that this show of affection is somehow real. And as suddenly as the arm was placed on my shoulders, just as fast is it gone again. For a moment I thought I was about to feel alive, for a moment I thought I was about to think that my relationship actually had a chance. But I'm still not living. I can't remember the last time I felt like I was living, like really living. That was until I looked into deep, brown eyes. That was until I learned how a little thing like sauce can change your whole life. Because before that, before the sauce, the eyes, the handshake, before all of that I thought I was living. Living as good as I could. But now I know there's more out there. Now I know…what do I know? I know I need to see her again. And as if Kimberley had read my mind, she pushes me straight into my future.

"Why don't you go visit that place of yours you like so much? The one with all the seafood? It is Thursday after all," She winks before walking out of my bedroom and back to her work. I think I haven't loved her more than I do right now, she practically telling me to go embrace my new destiny or whatever it is called. And I will do so. Adding my light lip balm, I smack my lips, hoping that Callie would be at work tonight. Because I really need to see her and talk to her. About what, I don't know. I just know that I need her in some way I can't explain. And who am I to question my womanly intuition now?

I'm placed at a table closest to the window that lights up the pavement in the late evening. Sitting on the chair pointing out of the corner, I'm in a perfect angle to spot everything that is going on in the restaurant. The waitress I've come to know as Meredith – because I've been staring at her chest, where her nametag happens to be, an awful lot of times – is folding napkins behind the bar and another Asian looking woman is refilling the bar fridge with beers, wine bottles and sodas. There's only about 5 other tables occupied besides mine tonight, so it shouldn't take long before my salmon arrives. Locking my eyes on the swing doors every time I see bright light cutting through the modified illumination of the restaurant, I focus on finding the big white hat somewhere inside. Just as I think I see her, my arm which my chin is resting on slip from under me and push the little table decoration thingy aside, making the silent restaurant shriek.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I softly speak as I fumble with the decoration. "Please, continue," The smile on my face trying to cover up for the humiliation I feel inside.

"You okay?" Someone asks me and I immediately go in mental defense. Why wouldn't I be okay? Is it Ask Arizona How She's Doing Day today? In that case, I'm just peachy. My life is pretty much non-existent. I'm sitting in a restaurant, hoping to get a look of the head chef which I've only spoken to once while my girlfriend is in my apartment, working. Yes, that's how great I'm doing. Just peachy. And so pathetic. A hand on my shoulder breaks my inner self-pitiful monologue and as a plate of beauty is placed in front of me, I look up and catch those delicious eyes I've been thinking about for a whole week. "Um, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just…clumsy, I guess," I blush unable to do anything about it.

"Well, dinner is served. And I drizzled a bit more sauce than I usually do on your salmon, so you should feel special," Callie winks and I feel all of my previous nagging about my life disappear. I got more sauce than all the others. And she came to serve it personally to me. And wow, does she look stunning in that white, long, chef-like coat? Blinking one time, I collect my disturbing thoughts and give her a big, dimpled smile.

"Thank you," is all I'm able to form. Come on, Arizona! She's giving you special treatment and that's all you've got to say?

"My pleasure, Arizona," Callie smiles as she's about to turn on her heels.

"Wait…" I mentally slap myself for sounding so begging and needing, but she remembered my name, it has got to mean something, hasn't it? "You wanna join me? I hate eating alone." Lovely, just lovely. She'll think you're a lunatic, asking the chef to join your table because you don't want to feel alone. That's just sad, really.

Looking around the restaurant, Callie shrugs and sits herself in the chair right next to me. "Can I ask you one thing? And please, eat. I hate when my food gets cold," she urge while chuckling in an incredibly sexy way.

Forking a bite of salmon and swirling it around in the sauce, I bring it to my mouth, all my senses on alert. Before bringing the small piece of heaven into my mouth, I let out a content sigh of anticipation. "Ask away."

"Why are you here…alone, I mean…when you hate eating alone?" Callie's hands are resting in her lap, her eyes on me as I finally let the food caress my taste buds. Right now I don't hear her, right now I'm all alone in the world with this bite of satisfaction dressed as a secret coated salmon. As I make sure to chew it the right way, so the taste gets to circle in every nook and cranny of my mouth, I open my eyes to find a smug looking Latina. "That good, huh?" She arches one sexy eyebrow and nods.

"Secretively good," I grin back at her after swallowing her goods.

"Would it be bad if I told you that you've got a bit of dill between your teeth now?" Callie seriously asks as she leans forward, her hand reaching out for…something? This can't be happening. This cannot be happening. Of course, because it's my lucky day, I've got some stupid herb between my teeth. Reading my expression she quickly adds, "But you haven't, you haven't. It was just a joke."

"My god, that was mean. And kinda humiliating, too," I swat away her stretched hand and dig into my dish once again, feeling very, very little.

"It was fun, you should've seen the look on your face," Callie warmly laughs before getting out of the chair when a loud sound and a crashing bump are heard from the kitchen. "I've got to get back to my kitchen…or what is left of it. You enjoy your secret sauce," she smiles before turning away to disappear behind the swinging doors.

As I continue and finish my delicious meal, the small amount of love I get these days, I smile at the Asian woman. Being in the trade for a long time, she picks up on my smile and quickly makes out my check. As she gracefully slides down to my table and place the little silver tray with the check, she grins wickedly.

"Someone flirted their way to free food, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's all taken care of, you just keep your pretty card," Cristina replies, her nametag revealing her identification.

"But…I don't understand," I look confused at the check not believing what the waitress just told me.

"Our Head Chef made sure your meal was on the house," she states while dropping a piece of paper on the table. "She told me to leave you this," Cristina raises her eyebrows and then quickly continues her waitress duties.

As I take the note and read it, I can't help but giggle.

The sauce may be secret but this isn't :-)
I'll look forward to see you next Thursday
but if you want to do something out of the ordinary,
why don't you swing by say Monday?
Callie.

Folding the note and stuffing it into my purse, I nod and smile at the waitresses as I exit the restaurant. With the doors not closing fast enough, I get to hear the waitresses' not so subtle gossip and can't help but chuckle as I step into my car.

"Is that her?"

"Yep. That's salmon girl."

"She's pretty, if you're into that sort of things."

Okay. There you have it. Could you bear it? I promise I'll try let fluff in, in this story. Because well, we all need it. But sometimes things just gotta give for us to finally get the fluff. Arizona's got hers to deal with and Callie's got something at home, too. Stay tuned and you'll find out what.
Now, go give me some good cake disguised as reviews, please.