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Who’s The Boss?

Page 18

by McCarthy , Erin


  “Don’t do this right now,” she said.

  “Do what?” I was officially frustrated. “Isla. Be with me. In real life.”

  She glanced over at Nick, who was working but clearly listening. “I’m not discussing this with you now.”

  “Then I don’t want to discuss it at all,” I said.

  Ever since Isla had admitted she was in love with me, she’d been jumpy and agitated and nervous. I couldn’t make her be okay with her emotions. But I also didn’t have to be the guy she hated to be in love with.

  “Are you breaking up with me?” she asked, sounding outraged.

  No. But I decided maybe I needed to push her. “Maybe I am.”

  “Oh, that’s just great. Awesome timing. Good job.” She threw her hands up.

  “You’re either in it to win it or you’re not.” I wasn’t even sure what the hell that meant, but I was pissed.

  “I don’t even know what the hell that means,” she said, echoing my own thoughts. “But I don't appreciate an ultimatum.”

  “I don’t appreciate having to pretend like I haven’t seen you naked.”

  “Oh, shit,” Nick said, freezing in the middle of reaching for a mixing bowl.

  Isla swore under her breath and turned back to her smoker.

  I grabbed the grater I’d taken from her hand and stomped off with it.

  This was a fight. Nothing more. Not the end of us.

  I stared after Sean. That was it? We were just done? I felt bewildered and shocked.

  Neither of which I had time to feel since we had to cook barbecue all freaking night. I had to just put my head down and do what needed to be done. Hell, that’s what I had been doing since I was fifteen.

  Yet there was a pit in my stomach. As the hours ticked by, Sean was avoiding me. When we did have to discuss something he was short and to the point. It was wearing on me because I didn’t want our relationship to be over. It had just started.

  The event area felt eerie by four in the morning, with the noise level reduced to a low hum, the streetlights harsh, attracting bugs that bounced off the lights. Most stations had cookers sitting down, resting before the final push, smokers sending up an array of delicious protein scents.

  I sat down next to the smoker with a cup of coffee in my hand. I was exhausted and scared. I realized I had barely given a thought to Martin. All I could think about was Sean and my career and how I was supposed to mesh the two.

  Sean sat down beside me but he didn’t look at me. He put his forearms on his thighs and sighed. “Look, Isla. I’m thirty-five years old and I haven’t had a serious relationship in a long time. But that’s precisely why I don’t want us to mess this up. I don’t fall in love easily but when I do, I fall hard. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not in love with you. I just can’t do that.”

  “I…” I had no idea what to say. The words felt trapped in my throat, whatever they were going to be. They were held in place by fear, pure terror that I would lose Sean now or at some point in the future and it would hurt. So damn much. I couldn’t lose anyone else. It would be less painful if I lost him now, so I sat there, frozen, unable to say a single thing.

  He lifted his head and eyed me. “Are you ready for this? For you and me? Be honest.”

  “I don’t know.” I wanted to say that I was, but that would be a lie. I felt too scared to feel certain of what we were doing.

  Sean sighed. He reached out and squeezed my knee. “Maybe this isn’t our time then. Maybe in two years we can try again when I’m ready to open my restaurant, if we’re both single. But only if we can commit. Fully, truly commit. It’s like cooking with jalapeños. You have to go all in and commit to the heat or there’s no point in having them.”

  Oh my God, why wasn’t I saying anything? What the hell was wrong with me? But I sat there, trap shut, and watched him stand up and walk away.

  I needed some air. Pushing myself frantically off the low stool I was sitting on, I tossed my coffee in the trash and shoved past Nick. “Watch the fire,” I told him, frantic to escape.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just do it. Please.”

  I needed to call Gus.

  Unfortunately, Martin was standing in the main thoroughfare between our two stations and he came over to me. “Not now,” I told him, on the verge of a serious meltdown. “I am not in the mood.”

  “Look, I wanted to apologize. My beef isn’t with you. It’s with Kincaid.”

  “Fine, then go hash it out with him.” Then I thought about it. “But you made it about me when you stole my menu so if you’re apologizing for that, I accept.”

  He went on like I hadn’t spoken. “A few years back he hooked up with a girl I was seeing and I’ve never really gotten over it, I guess.”

  “You’re married,” I pointed out. “And have been for twenty years. Did he even know you were seeing this woman?”

  “No, but–

  “No buts!” I was so over Martin and his ridiculousness. “I don’t care. I just feel sorry for your wife.”

  The pettiness was more than I could deal with at the moment. I was sorry I ever gave him any thought or attention at all.

  I found a spot by the front gate and I called my grandfather. It was almost five so I knew he would already be up for the day. He still kept his pre-retirement hours.

  “How’s the cook-off going?” he asked.

  “Fine. I think. But Gus, I screwed up.” I bit my bottom lip and paced back and forth.

  “What did you do, mix up the salt and the sugar?”

  I started to laugh, then I realized given how distracted I was that was entirely possible. Good thing I was on the fire, not the prep. “No. So I’ve been secretly dating our executive chef, the guy I told you I kissed a few months ago.”

  “I know.”

  “How do you know?” Did everyone know?

  “It was written all over your face when I saw you last week. You’re in love with him. Let me guess. You panicked and couldn’t commit to him.”

  “Basically. I freaked out when I thought someone found out about us and Sean wanted us to come clean and I said no. Now I think he might be done with me. He said maybe it isn’t our time if I’m not ready.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Listen, you need to stop trying to prove yourself to other people. You’re worthy of your position at the restaurant and you’re worthy of love. You need to stop worrying about what people think and let it be. Live your life.”

  “I don’t worry about what other people think,” I protested weakly. Even as I said it, I realized I had been equally concerned about losing respect as I had been about losing my job if people found out about me and Sean.

  “Does he make you laugh? Does he have your back? Would he be a good partner, a good father?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, quieting my fears. Sean absolutely was all of those things. He was excellent at teasing me without offending me. He respected me at work. He was honest with me and he was fantastic with kids.

  “Yes,” I said, swallowing hard. I glanced back to where our station was. I really did love him.

  “Then don’t be afraid to feel all of those things. Take a chance. Yes, you may lose him but if you hold back you will definitely lose him. Be the badass that I know you are and tell the man you want him.”

  Be the badass. I could do that.

  “You’re right, you’re one hundred percent right. Thanks, Gus.”

  “Let me know how it goes. I’m coming down there later today to get some lunch.”

  “I’ll save a plate for you in case we sell out.”

  “Did I ever tell you about your great-grandmother getting her first job in New York? She was eighteen years old and fresh off the boat from Poland. She marched into a factory in the garment district, set her lunch pail down on the floor manager’s desk, and told her in Polish, ‘I work here now.’ The woman didn’t even know what the hell she had said but
she recognized a stubborn hard-worker and let her stay. That’s who you come from, Isla. Now go get him, girl.”

  I could do this. “I’m on it, Gus.”

  Now I just needed a plan.

  It had to be big. Bold. Badass.

  Sixteen

  “What’s going on?” Michael asked me as he offered his hand. “Good luck today.”

  I shook it. “Thanks. I’d be a lot happier about the situation if my relationship with Isla hadn’t just gone up in smoke.” I didn’t see Felicia. “Where’s your wife?”

  The doors to the event had opened at ten. I was exhausted, heartbroken, and pissed. Not necessarily in that order. Part of me wanted to quit my job, on the spot, to prove to Isla how much I wanted to be with her. But the sensible side of me realized that it wouldn’t matter. If she wasn’t ready she wasn’t ready. The irony of that was not lost on me. How many women over the years had wanted a commitment I couldn’t offer?

  Now I had fallen in love with the one woman in Brooklyn who was terrified of being in a relationship.

  “She’s sitting down in the shade. I’m not sure she’s going to survive being pregnant in the city this summer. We may have to spend some time upstate.”

  “In Saugerties?” I asked, surprised. Michael had never shown a lot of interest in small town living.

  He nodded. “It’s cool and quiet. Think you’ll be able to get up there this summer?”

  I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over my shoulder to spot Isla. She was missing again. She kept appearing and disappearing. We had both been studiously avoiding each other and Nick hadn’t mentioned what he had heard go down between us. Nico had just arrived to the event and had questioned her absence so I had covered for her and said she had gone to be interviewed as a rep for Bone. The truth was I had no clue where she was.

  “I’d like to,” I said. “I want to start making plans for my restaurant.”

  “That’s cool. Let me know if you need help.”

  “Your hands may be great in the operating room, but brother, you do not know anything about construction.”

  “But I’m great at hiring people.”

  “That is true.”

  “Where’s Isla?”

  “I don’t know.” I eyed my brother. “For the record, I don’t appreciate you telling Isla I don’t settle down.”

  I had avoided saying anything but now that me and Isla were over and Michael needed to know to mind his own business.

  He made a face. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my place to do that.”

  “No, it wasn’t. You acted like Mom. Which no one wants to do.”

  “You’re right. Again, I’m sorry. Do you want me to talk to Isla?”

  “It doesn’t matter. We ended things.” I crossed my arms and internally dared him to say something stupid so I could punch my brother. I needed to punch something and he was a safe bet.

  “Why?” he asked, simply.

  “None of your business.” Mostly I said that because I didn’t know how to explain what the hell had happened between me and Isla. Or maybe I didn’t want to admit that she really wasn’t ready to dive in head first to our relationship.

  “Okay. If you need to talk, I’m around.” He clapped my arm.

  I nodded.

  Grateful I didn’t have to do any of the serving, I watched Michael leave as the line of customers at our stall continued to grow. I was about to retreat to where no diners could talk to me when I was approached by an older man in an ACDC T-shirt.

  “You Sean?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I tried to place him but I drew a blank.

  “I’m Gus, Isla’s grandfather.”

  So this was the infamous Gus. It didn’t surprise me at all he looked like a biker. I could see both in his features and his fashion that Isla was related to him. “Oh, sure, nice to meet you.” I stuck my hand out.

  He had a firm shake. “Heard she ran scared on you. She called me this morning.”

  Awesome. I just nodded, not really wanting to talk about it with anyone, let alone her grandfather. It wasn’t a great feeling to know that the first woman you fell in love with in a decade wasn’t all in.

  “She’s tough. But you have to be tougher.”

  I didn’t even know what that meant. “I don’t know where she is,” I said. “But I can tell her you stopped by. Would you like a brisket sandwich?”

  “Yes, I want a sandwich. But Isla’s right there.” He pointed to the end of the row of stations where the judges and announcers were set up. Isla was standing on the stage.

  “What is she doing?” I asked, confused. Concerned. We were both exhausted and upset. God only knew where her head was. “Does she have a guitar?” I asked, bewildered.

  “I’m a little rusty,” she said into a microphone. “But I want to dedicate this song to Chef Sean Kincaid.”

  I froze. What the hell was she doing?

  Gus cackled.

  Then Isla started to strum her guitar and sing.

  It was a heavy metal love song. Despite my shock, I had to smile at that.

  Love Song by Tesla.

  She sounded fantastic. Like a real rockstar. A grungy, feminine, sexy as hell, woman-in-love rocker.

  That didn’t mean I understood what the hell she was doing.

  When the song ended, she thanked the crowd for the applause, then said, “I need to explain something.”

  That would be fucking helpful.

  A song was great, but I wanted her. For real. Forever.

  Grand gesture. That’s what Savannah had told me. Show Sean I was serious about being out in the open about our relationship by announcing it to the masses. Well. Here I was staring at a few mildly curious people, but most everyone else was milling around in pursuit of barbecue. I could see Sean, so presumably he could hear me. I took the guitar off that I had enlisted Dakota to bring to me.

  I should have enlisted one of my friends to draw Sean closer to the judge’s platform.

  But too late. No regrets.

  That’s how I wanted to live. With no regrets.

  “I’ve worked really hard at Bone for the last three years,” I said. “I love living in such a creative and food-focused neighborhood as Brooklyn.” I cleared my throat and looked at Savannah, who was standing next to the stage holding a very squirmy Sully.

  She made a “speed it up” gesture with her hand.

  “But sometimes when you work so many hours, you forget that you’re more than a chef. You forget that you’re a woman and that you’re lonely.”

  I paused, shocked that I was actually managing any words at all, let alone anything that were actual, you know, feelings. But that was the problem. Trying to stuff down my emotions was why I was at serious risk for losing Sean.

  The thought of that was worse than anything, including public humiliation.

  I forged ahead. “Then someone comes along who changes everything and that’s what happened with Sean.”

  The man himself was walking closer to me. His expression was serious. I kept rolling.

  “When I first met him, I thought he was an arrogant jerk, and he thought even less of me, but then we started working together and I realized that he’s funny, fair, compassionate, and intelligent. And I fell completely in love with him.” I locked eyes with Sean.

  His eyebrows were raised and he had his arms crossed over his muscular chest. He didn’t look like a man bowled over by my declaration. Maybe he was still mad at me.

  The back of my neck was sweating and I was pretty sure I had an irregular heartbeat that might require medical attention. My breathing was shallow. “It doesn’t matter who wins the cook-off today because I have already won the biggest award– his love.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Sean said, taking two long strides. He jumped up onto the stage and took the mic from me. He tossed it in the direction of the judges, who were wide-eyed and looking confused. He brushed my hair back. “I can’t let you do this.”

  “Do what?” I whisp
ered, feeling like I might blackout. There were spots dancing in front of my eyes. Most of the attendees weren’t paying attention at all, but there was an older couple standing there watching and the judges and event emcee. That was six more people than I cared to have staring at me.

  “Do something that isn’t you. I appreciate the gesture, and trust me, one day when we have children we can tell them this story and make it sound really romantic, but right now I’m saving you.”

  Have children? He was forgiving me. Oh, thank God. I relaxed my shoulders. “Hey. It was really romantic, you jerk-off. I was trying to apologize and tell you I love you.”

  Sean grinned. “That’s more like it.” He cupped my cheeks with his calloused palms. “I love you, too. I’m going to get you off this stage, then I’m going to kiss you.”

  “My hero.” I actually meant it. My knees felt weak from confessing my feelings in public.

  Sean shocked me by lifting me up into his arms. I screamed, then laughed. “Oh, you just had to one-up me, didn’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” He gave me a sly smile as he carried me down the stairs. “We can spend the whole night tonight trying to outdo each other.” He winked. “Think about it.”

  “Oh, I see the potential.” I wrapped my arms around my neck as he set me on the ground.

  Sean gave me a toe-curling kiss.

  Savannah started cheering. Her clapping had Sully imitating her. I grinned. Dakota was doing a fist pump. Gus was shaking his head in approval.

  Nico appeared, looking angry.

  “Well, that was an intriguing prelude to our winners’ announcement,” the female judge said, standing up. “And coincidentally, Bone is this year’s winner for best barbecue.”

  Someone swore across the way. I saw Martin shaking his head in disgust.

  “Congratulations to executive chef Sean Kincaid and his enthusiastic sous chef, Isla Kowalski.”

  Enthusiastic sous chef? I was too happy to even be angry.

  But Sean tilted his head. “Okay, my turn.” He vaulted back up onto the stage. “Excuse me, but I need to correct you. Isla Kowalski isn’t my sous chef. We’re both executive chefs. I couldn’t have done this without her and her amazing talent with wood.”

 

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