Sharing Lunch
Arthur Sterling stood in the small entryway, momentarily stunned.
Mia Toretto? Here?
He knew from the films that Mia was the heart of the family, the one who tried to keep the peace.
But he also knew that life in the high-octane world of Los Angeles meant being careful about who you let into your sanctuary.
Arthur didn't just throw the door open. He unlatched the deadbolt but kept the heavy security chain engaged, his knuckles white against the wood.
He peered through the narrow crack of the door.
Standing in the dimly lit hallway was a strikingly beautiful young woman with long, dark hair and a natural, athletic grace.
She looked exactly like the Mia he remembered—kind-eyed but carrying that unmistakable Toretto steel in her gaze.
Though she was technically a year or two younger than him, she possessed a maturity that suggested she had seen far more of the world's rougher edges than a typical teenager.
Arthur had to admit that even though Vince was a loose cannon, the man had undeniable taste.
Even in a simple tank top and jeans, Mia radiated a magnetic, effortless charm.
However, searching through the memories of his predecessor, Arthur realized they weren't close.
He had only been working at Dom's garage for a short stint.
They had crossed paths simply because she'd brought her car in for a tune-up, and he'd been the one holding the wrench.
They had swapped a few technical details about manifold pressures and brake pads—nothing more.
Vince's violent outburst seemed even more unhinged now that Arthur realized how little ground it was based on.
As for Mia showing up at his doorstep? That was a plot twist he hadn't expected.
"Mia," Arthur said, his tension easing just enough to slide the chain back. "What are you doing here?"
He opened the door fully and stepped aside, inviting her in.
Mia stepped into the apartment, her amber eyes scanning the small but surprisingly tidy space.
Raised among the grease-stained floors and rough-edged men of the Toretto garage, she had the heart of a tomboy, and she seemed to appreciate the lack of clutter.
"Hey, Arthur. Nice place," she said, her voice warm.
She wasn't shy. Like Arthur, she had stepped away from the traditional school path early, helping run the family's small market and cafe with a determined, outgoing spirit.
Arthur offered a small, weary smile and gestured toward the living area. "Have a seat. I'm still a bit shaky, but I can manage hospitality."
He headed for the small, humming refrigerator. "I've only got beer and some canned coffee. What'll it be?"
"Beer," Mia replied without hesitation.
Arthur shot her a surprised look over his shoulder, but he didn't comment.
He pulled out an ordinary supermarket bottle, popped the cap against the counter, and handed it to her.
"Thanks," she said, taking a long, appreciative swig.
Instead of sitting on the sofa, she tilted her head, her nose wrinkling as she caught a scent in the air.
Her gaze drifted toward the stove, where the rustic stew was still bubbling softly.
"Are you cooking? It smells... incredible."
Realization struck Arthur like a bolt of lightning. He paled slightly, his previous exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he hurried to the stove.
He killed the burner and moved the heavy pot to a cool element.
I almost let the base burn, he thought, lifting the lid to inspect the sauce.
As the lid came away, a rich, savory steam billowed out, filling the room with the aroma of seared beef, caramelized onions, and the bright, acidic tang of tomatoes.
He waited for the familiar mechanical chime of the system to evaluate his work, but to his confusion, the air remained silent.
He glanced at Mia, who had drifted closer to the stove, her eyes sparkling with genuine hunger. "So fragrant!"
Only then did Arthur remember his manners. He looked at the wall clock; it was nearly noon.
The previous Arthur had suffered a concussion because of this girl's shadow, but here she was taking the initiative to check on him.
He found himself genuinely liking the girl's straightforward nature.
"It's lunchtime," Arthur said, finding a sudden surge of confidence. "Why don't you stay and have a taste? It's a specialty dish I learned from a chef back in the city."
Mia's amber eyes blinked in surprise. She didn't blush or hesitate.
She looked at Arthur, really looked at him, noticing the gentle but handsome lines of his face and the quiet intensity in his eyes.
Having grown up surrounded by the crude, hyper-masculine energy of men like Vince, Arthur's calm demeanor was a breath of fresh air.
She had come here out of guilt, having badgered Letty for his address so she could apologize for Vince's thuggery.
She hadn't expected to find an amateur chef with a steady hand and a welcoming kitchen.
"Sure!" she agreed with a bright smile.
Arthur set to work. He knew that this kind of hearty stew was traditionally served with rice, but his kitchen was strictly Westernized.
He sliced some white bread, toasted the pieces in a pan with a generous amount of butter until they were golden brown, and dished the stew onto two plates.
"It's a tight squeeze, so I hope you don't mind the company," Arthur said, setting the toast down and handing her a fork and spoon.
Mia sat beside him at the small table, nodding thanks.
She speared a cube of beef, blew on it briefly, and popped it into her mouth.
A blissful, genuine smile blossomed across her face. "Delicious. Seriously, Arthur, this is amazing!"
Almost the instant the praise left her lips, the cold, mechanical voice finally echoed in his mind.
[Ding. Total cooking time: 57 minutes. Evaluation: Exceptional.]
[41 [Culinary] experience gained. Keep up the good work.]