Chapter Eleven

A New Friend

Mike, Alex, Eve and Natalie could smell the food cooking through Cristina's front door. Nattie watched the scent hit Mike's nostrils, the smile splitting his face. Eve reached out to knock on the door, a rapid three knocks. They waited for a few moments. Cristina opened the door, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She didn't wear any makeup, but Nattie didn't think she needed any. Cristina was dressed in a pair of cargo shorts she got from Eve and a plain white tank top. Her eyes fell on the group and she smiled at them.

"Bonjourno," Cristina greeted, rushing to hug each and every one of them tightly, starting with Mike. Nattie, Eve and Alex watched the two of them embrace, with Mike in no rush to release his hold on her. Eve and Nattie exchanged glances, their eyes conveying the same knowledge – that Mike and Cristina were smitten with each other, even if neither side wanted to say otherwise. When their hold on each other released and she had hugged Alex, Eve moved to the side so she could introduce Cristina to Nattie.

"Cristina, this is Nattie. We work together."

"Natalya. I recognize you," Cristina said, surprising the Canadian Diva by going in for a hug. Nattie already liked this woman, whose warmth was infectious. Releasing her hold on Nattie, Cristina took a step back. "Please, come in. I am sorry – I am running a little behind on dinner. I had to stop at the office for some things."

"No big deal," Alex assured her, flashing her a smile. He handed her the bag of rolls he picked up for dinner. She thanked him, retreating into the kitchen to put the bag down on the counter. Mike followed closely behind Cristina, making a beeline to the oven to open the door and look inside.

"Oh my God, this looks incredible," Mike observed. Cristina turned her head to look at him, smiling. "I'm not going to lie, Cristina – I've been looking forward to this ever since I got the invitation." She looked down at her feet, feeling her cheeks burn. She wanted to ask how often his girlfriend cooked for him, but Cristina didn't want to talk about Maryse.

"I hope you like it. It's my mother's recipe," Cristina told him.

"If it's anything like the ravioli you're going to have to wheel me out of here," Mike told her, the two of them sharing a laugh. She looked at the bottles of red and white wine he brought with him for dinner, two high-end bottles. Before she could say anything about them, Nattie walked inside, flanked by Eve.

"What's all the laughter in here?" Nattie asked. Like Cristina, she was dressed for the California spring weather, in denim shorts and a white peasant blouse, her blonde hair pulled back in a French braid.

"Mike...he is drooling over my cooking. He does this," Cristina explained. Nattie laughed. Mike reached into the fridge and grabbed three cans of Sprite. He handed one to Cristina, one to Eve, and after Nattie refused his offer, he kept the other can.

"Jesus, Mike, you'd think Maryse doesn't feed you," Nattie cracked.

"She doesn't," Mike told her. Eager to change the subject, Mike cocked his head towards the oven. "This girl makes a mean ravioli. If her lasagna is anything like it..." Eve nodded in agreement.

"Come on, guys, out," Eve said. "There's not enough space in this kitchen for everyone and Cristina needs space to work." Mike nodded, leaving the kitchen with Nattie. Eve took her place beside Cristina, who was busy making her homemade Caesar dressing. "Can I help with anything?"

"If you would like to set the table," Cristina told her. Eve jumped at the chance. Cristina went into the cupboards, retrieving the dishes and silverware. Eve took them to the table. Alex and Nattie came in to help. Cristina directed Alex to her bedroom to grab a folding chair for Nattie to sit in. She handed Mike the bottles of wine he brought to take to the table. She turned on the oven light and looked at the lasagna; it would be ready soon. The cheese was bubbling and the corners were beginning to crisp.

Everyone sat at the table, while Cristina brought out the salad and then the lasagna. She sat down between Mike and Eve. As soon as the portion of lasagna was on his plate, Mike began to eat, quickly burning his tongue. Cristina watched his face contort. "Be careful, il mio amico," she soothed. "Do you need some water?"

"I'll be fine," Mike assured her with a smile. Eve noticed the shy smile she returned to him. Learning her lesson from Mike, Eve took a careful bite of her food, not surprised to find it was as good as the ravioli she had the week before.

"I'm going to need the recipe for this," Eve told her. "My boyfriend would lose his mind if I made this."

"The recipe is on the counter. You are welcome to it," Cristina told her.

Nattie watched her friends with Cristina in silence, enjoying her meal. It was a light and relaxed environment. Cristina asked them about their travels and they told her all about the good and the bad. Nattie found she really liked Cristina, who she found almost too accommodating and friendly.

"Do you ever miss it back home?" Nattie asked. Cristina nodded.

"All the time," Cristina answered. "But I felt I needed to come here."

"Do you have any family here?" Nattie asked. Cristina shook her head.

"Nobody. They are all back in Italy." Cristina looked at the happy faces around the table and felt a swell of joy well up inside of her chest. "If any of you are interested, we can do this again next week," Cristina offered.

"Don't have to ask me twice," Mike announced quickly. Nattie had to bite back her laughter; he sounded too eager to return. "Just a date and a time."

Eve leaned over to Nattie. "He's hooked." Nattie nodded. It seemed to be obvious to everyone but the two of them.

When he arrived home, Mike found Maryse pacing back and forth in his living room. She wheeled on him when he walked into the room. Her brown eyes narrowed into slits. Mike wasn't a blind man; he thought Maryse looked beautiful, dressed in a little black bustier and a white high-waisted skirt. Her hair was back in a sleek ponytail, not a hair out of place. Her Louboutin heels clacked on the floor as she stormed towards him, her hands curled into fists at her sides. Mike knew that they weren't about to have a pleasant conversation; those days seemed to be long gone.

"How is your putain?" she spat, her voice shaking with contempt and disgust. Mike rolled his eyes and turned away from her, walking towards the stairs to get into his pajamas and settle down for the night. She gasped, then followed after him. "Don't you walk away from me!" she shouted at his retreating figure. Maryse was greeted with the bathroom door shutting in response. Her jaw dropped. She needed to find a way to catch him in the act.

As much as she loathed the thought, there was a part of Maryse that wanted to meet this woman, to see her competition. She wanted to know what she was up against. Maryse convinced herself that this woman wasn't in her league, that the woman couldn't measure up to her, but there was a little voice in the back of her head that said she needed to see this woman. She needed to know.

"Wow...Just wow. I know you said she was beautiful, Eve, but I had no idea...Cristina is stunning," Nattie commented. They were back at Eve's house, the two of them being the first to leave after dinner. The two women sat on the back porch, enjoying a cup of tea and staring out at the backyard.

"She's got it so bad for Mike. I don't think he notices," Eve said with a sigh, her tone wistful. Nattie nodded.

"Mike needs a woman like her. If he's not careful, she's going to slip through his fingers. Anyone would be lucky to land a woman like that," Nattie replied. Eve nodded.

"It's my biggest fear right now."

"Does she know about Maryse?"

"Oh, yeah. She's looked up pictures and seen a few matches. She won't say it outright, but I think she has the idea that she can't measure up to a woman like her. But she hates the way that she treats Mike. She can't understand why he stays. She asks me why he stays, but I have no answer for her. I don't even know."

"Sex complicates things, I guess," Nattie said with a shrug. Eve nodded.

"I just wish Mike could see what's in front of him," Eve sighed. "I wish I could interfere, but I can't do that. It's not my place. In the end, it's going to be up to him to decide what he does."

Maryse was gone when Mike returned downstairs. The keys to his Mercedes was gone.

There were no notes to say where she was going, or when she was going to be back. Mike was a little surprised to find that he didn't really care if she came back, even if it was just to return the car. Her absences were becoming more frequent and lasting for longer. He wasn't stupid; she thought that she was being sneaky, coming in at the crack of dawn and slipping into bed beside him. Sometimes he'd catch a whiff of something unfamiliar, and he knew she was up to no good. She constantly accused him of doing her wrong, of doing things with Cristina, but Maryse could do whatever she wanted with no consequences. Mike was growing tired of the cycle.

It had been a while since he had been intimate with Maryse; she didn't seem all that interested in that aspect of their relationship anymore, and Mike wanted to be careful in case she was laying with someone else. He felt like she was keeping him around just to make him miserable. Their relationship was beginning to wane, and he knew that it was toxic now, unhealthy for the both of them. Mike didn't understand why she didn't want to let him go, why she was so against both of them being happy.

He knew it was bad, but he thought about the differences between Maryse and Cristina. He knew it wasn't right to compare them, but he couldn't get over how similar they were, yet how different. Cristina was good to him, took care of him and cooked for him and seemed genuinely interested in his life and his career. Maryse did at one point – save for the cooking; Maryse said she couldn't boil water – but those days were gone now. These days Maryse did whatever she wanted, and she didn't care what Mike had to say about it. She was always in the right, and there was no negotiations on the subject. He tried to save things, tried to do everything he could to make her happy. It took him a long time, but Mike was beginning to realize that some things just couldn't be saved.

Cristina rolled onto her side, her eyes watching the red numbers on the clock. It was one-sixteen in the morning. With a frustrated sigh, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Once again she couldn't sleep. There was so much going on inside of her head, and there didn't seem to be any way for her to organize her thoughts. She clasped her hands together over her torso, trying to shake the clutter out of her head.

Everyone left a little later than they did the week before, which was fine by Cristina. She enjoyed the company. Nattie had been a lot of fun; the two had exchanged numbers before she left with Eve. Mike had struck her as a little distant and distracted earlier, and it had been nagging at the corners of her mind since he left with Alex. She wondered if it had anything to do with his ongoing girlfriend troubles, but she didn't think he would ever talk to her about that.

She wished he would leave, that the storm cloud that descended on him from time to time would just disappear. Cristina couldn't overlook the knowledge that his girlfriend had thrown things at his head while he suffered from a concussion. It was unacceptable to her. But she couldn't say anything about the relationship; it wasn't her place. But she hoped at some point that he would figure it out on his own. She was aware that she didn't know the whole story between the two of them, but she knew Mike was unhappy, and it killed her.

Cristina never thought Mike would give her a second look. Maryse was white blonde, with a rock solid body and expensive tastes. Maryse and Mike lived life in the fast lane, rubbing elbows with celebrities and traveling the world. On the other hand, Cristina was short and soft, with dark hair that never styled the way she wanted it to. Maryse liked to be high-profile, but Cristina liked to stay under the radar. She wasn't the type who wanted fame and fortune; she just wanted to be comfortable and happy. She wanted to be a well-respected music reporter.

Cristina rolled over again, her eyes falling on the clock once more. Life was always easier in her dreams.