And the clock was ticking.
I knew that I was a perfectionist. Someone else could probably be satisfied with how things had picked up so far. But I wasn’t. I was ambitious and goddammit I knew that things could be better than this. I’d hoped for a bigger turnaround, and in two weeks, this was a pretty good one but… it wasn’t enough.
Michael had agreed to give me a month. This was two weeks in. That meant my time was half over, I had only two weeks left, and if I didn’t do as well as I’d said I would be… if I didn’t pull off the miracle that I’d promised…
Michael could decide that I wasn’t really working out and fire me.
Speaking of Michael, things had been… awkward, ever since that night.
It shouldn’t have been. Dammit, that night had been everything that I’d dreamed of, no, more so, but apparently I was the only one who thought so. Michael had been avoiding the kitchen and avoiding me, barely showing his face, sticking to his office and then sometimes checking the host stand to see how we were doing on reservations and so he could look out over the restaurant and see if anyone looked unhappy.
Clearly, he wanted space, and well, I couldn’t exactly leave the kitchen regularly so I just… stayed there. In my territory. While he stayed in his.
I felt so disappointed I was sick with it. It twisted in my stomach, slithering and cold, like a snake.
We were in the middle of a lull after the seven p.m. rush when Brooke poked her head in.
Oh, no. I’d been kind of avoiding her too, if I was being honest. She was my best friend, she could read me like a book…how was I supposed to hide from her that something was going on?
My entire time having a crush on Michael, I’d had no idea how Brooke would respond to it. Honestly I’d… avoided thinking about it. I loved Brooke. She was my best friend and always had been. If she found out and rejected me, or Michael, or both of us for the decision… I didn’t know how I’d be able to handle it. Hell, I didn’t know how Michael would be able to handle it.
Surely Brooke would want us to be happy though, right?
Ugh. It all just made me feel even more sick inside.
“Hey!” Brooke walked in, avoiding the line cooks and pulling me aside. “You got a sec?”
“Watch the potatoes!” I yelled at Steph, one of my sous chefs, and then I nodded at Brooke. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Brooke led me over to the side, near the dishwashing station. “We’re going out tonight. Girl’s night out.”
“Brooke…”
“It’s a Saturday! Live a little! When was the last time that you had some fun and cut loose, hmm? Never, that’s when.”
It was true. Brooke was always the party girl, not me. “Look, I’ve been real busy…”
“Exactly. And it’s gotten you down. I know that something’s up, honey, don’t think you can hide it from me. You’re all glum and down in the mouth.” She poked my cheek.
“Ha, ha.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. We’re going to go out, get some drinks, dance a little, and have fun! I know I sure could use the relaxation. Dad’s been stomping around like someone’s broken his favorite carving knife.”
Aha. Yeah. Pretty sure I was the reason for Michael being so crazy. And now it affected Brooke, too, great. I’d made a real mess of this, hadn’t I?
But I didn’t know how to get out of this girl’s night with Brooke and she was my friend. I liked spending time with her. “Okay, sure. It’ll be fun.”
“Yes!” Brooke squealed, grabbing my hands and bouncing on her heels. “It’s going to be great! I’ll pick you up from your apartment, you need to change into something dance appropriate!”
Hoo boy.
I followed her instructions, going home after I’d closed up and changing into a little black dress that I had. My mom had helped me to pick it out, telling me that it was essential for any woman’s wardrobe. The skirt flared out when I twirled, and the bodice was tight, showing off my curves, and it fell to mid-calf giving a fun glimpse of my legs.
My hair came down and I curled it lazily, going for that tousled and fresh look. What was I going to tell Brooke when she started interrogating me? I was horrible at lying in general but especially to her. Brooke was always the person to go to in our school for gossip, because she was really good at getting people to tell her things, and she knew everyone. She’d get an answer out of me one way or another.
I was just finishing my makeup when I heard the knock at the door. Shit. “Coming!”
“Who’s that?” Andy asked, emerging from his room.
Most people might balk at sharing an apartment with their older brother, or any sibling at all, but Andy and I wanted to get out of our childhood home and rent in San Francisco was scary expensive. Hell, just renting a carboard box off the street would set you back a grand a month. Or at least that’s what Brooke and I used to joke about.
“It’s just Brooke,” I told him, keeping my tone casual but wincing inside.
Andy still hadn’t gotten over his crush on her, the one he’d had since high school. Brooke was four years younger than Andy, so it had been something he couldn’t really act on back then, but now that we were all in our twenties he lit up like a damn Christmas tree any time she was around.
I’d think it was cute if Brooke returned his feelings, but…
“Hey!” I said, opening the door and smiling. “C’mon in, I just have to grab my shoes.”
As I went into my bedroom, I could hear Andy saying hi. “You look gorgeous,” he told her. “Don’t tell me you got all dressed up on my account.”
“I didn’t,” Brook replied, giving him her usual brush off. “I dressed up for the club.”
Hoo boy. Brooke always said she wasn’t interested in Andy. Personally, I suspected it was less that she wasn’t interested and more that Andy had been, and still was, a real player. Not in an asshole kind of way. He was always upfront and honest with women, telling them he was into a hook up or a fling and not a real relationship, but man, he’d fucked his way through his entire college campus and hadn’t even broken a sweat.
I think Brooke was just scared that if she slept with him, or even went out with him, he’d vamoose once the conquest was made—so to speak. She didn’t want to be another notch on his belt.
Fat chance of getting her to admit it, though. I’d decided to just take the ‘be quiet and supportive’ approach for both of them. They’d sort it out or they wouldn’t. It wasn’t up to me to make that decision for them.
I emerged from the bedroom before Andy could make an idiot of himself. “Hey, ready to go!” I grabbed my jacket and purse. “Don’t wait up,” I told Andy. “And don’t rot your goddamn brain on Overwatch. Love you!”
“Overwatch is the multiplayer of our generation and it’s bold of you to assume I had a brain to begin with. Love you, hey, stay smart, look after each other, yada yada big brother talk.” Andy winked at me and then we were out the door.
“So,” Brooke said once we were at the bar. “What’s the issue?”
I flagged down the bartender and put in our order. I didn’t want to be drunk for this conversation—I wanted to be able to watch what I was saying and not give too much away—but I had a feeling that I’d want to get good and drunk once this conversation was over. “Ah, it’s nothing, just stress from work. Things aren’t turning around as fast as I want them to.”
“Nobody can blame you for that. I mean, already you’re doing so much more than any of Theo’s other replacements did.”
“I… guess that’s good. But we need something major, Brooke. I promised Michael - your dad - that I’d restore this place to what it used to be and I have to make good on that promise. You know I keep my word.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Dad loves you, he’s not gonna kick you out or anything. And like I said you’re doing so much better than anyone else has. Just give it time and stop being such a perfectionist.” She paused. “I know it’s not just work, though.
Work makes you just… work harder. This is making you… I don’t even know.”
Shit. Diversion tactic failed. Okay. “I’m… considering… getting with someone. Maybe. A little bit.”
Brooke’s eyes lit up like her birthday had just come early.
“It’s complicated,” I added quickly, before she could start jumping up and down.
Brooke had been after me to be with someone since… holy shit, since freshman year of high school. Even before I’d had feelings for Michael, though, I’d known that I wasn’t going to get with some idiot teenage boy who didn’t know what the fuck he was doing in the sex or the relationship department. And then in culinary school I’d been way too busy, even if I had wanted someone, and I hadn’t.
I’d just wanted Michael. I still did.
Brooke nodded sagely. “I know why it’s complicated. It’s someone from the restaurant, isn’t it?”
…oh fuck.
“I thought this might happen,” Brooke went on. She put her hand on my shoulder. “It was obvious that it was only a matter of time. Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to say something.”
Oh fuck, oh shit oh fuck she knows she knows about Michael and me and she’s going to be so upset, how was I so obvious? Oh my God…
“It’s Cameron, isn’t it?” Brooke asked.
…oh.
Well that was. Unexpected. Or maybe not. I thought that Cameron was annoying as fuck but I’d been trying to be professional so I’d just politely smiled or nodded in response to him. Y’know, trying not to encourage him but also trying not to make it awkward for everyone by causing a scene. My strategy was that eventually he would get bored and move on when it was clear I wasn’t going to really do anything.
But to Brooke, it must’ve looked like I was glad for the attention but just not properly responding. Maybe she thought I was shy. Who knew?
I didn’t know if I was grateful for her misunderstanding or not. I just smiled at her, not answering.
Brooke apparently took this as a yes. “He’s cute!”
“Yeah, but he’s my coworker. It’s not smart to get involved with someone from work.”
“As long as it doesn’t affect your work performance, why would it be a problem? You two can be professional, right?”
“Uh…”
“Cameron is always going on and on about how he can please women,” Brooke added. “Maybe he’ll be a good candidate for your first time.”
Oh Lord. I could feel my face heating up.
Brooke lost her virginity on graduation night, to her high school boyfriend, and they had sex a few more times after that but then he went to college out of state and Brooke was busy helping her dad with the restaurant and so she wasn’t exactly any more experienced than I was.
“You don’t get to talk,” I pointed out. “You might have had sex a few times but it’s not like you’re an expert.”
Brooke laughed. “Okay, okay, you’re right. But I thought it was fun! I’d have more if I could just… but after… after Mom and Dad I… you know.” She shrugged. “It’s hard to trust people.”
“I get that, trust me I do.” I put my hand over hers, squeezing.
Brooke sighed, then brightened up, downing the rest of her drink. “Let’s get out on the dance floor. Who knows? Maybe we’ll meet a couple of guys who can… help us out.” She winked at me.
I laughed. That was one thing about Brooke: she was always good for lightening my mood. “All right, all right, let’s go.”
Dancing was fun, but I wasn’t looking at any of the other men. I didn’t want to try and find someone. I already knew who I wanted: Michael.
I was pretty damn sure that he was the only guy for me.
11
Michael
It was Monday when I got the call.
I was already feeling pretty shitty because of the whole thing with Stevie. I knew that it was the right thing to end it and say that it was wrong. There were so many reasons why it would be inappropriate, why it could end in pain, and I wanted better for Stevie.
But I knew that she was hurt, and I felt like an asshole for it.
Didn’t help that I also couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was so hard not to go into the kitchen and see her, to flirt with her, to whisper in her ear all the filthy things I wanted to do to her.
And then I got that damn phone call.
I was in my office, looking at the numbers, and for once feeling like maybe I could breathe normally again. Sales and reservations were up, people seemed to really like the menu, and I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, things were looking up. Stevie had been right.
Feeling a bit better, I answered the phone. “Hello, manager’s office.”
Usually the host stand would answer phone calls and then transfer them to me. People rarely called my direct line.
“Hi.” A smooth, charming voice sounded over the line. “This is Michael Madison, right?”
That voice put me on edge. It was the voice of someone who was selling you something. “Yes, speaking.”
“Hey there!” The voice - it was a woman - immediately got a little perkier. “I’m Sandra Bowles, I’m one of the producers for the Sizzling Summer show.”
That ridiculous name was what Theo had come up with for his show, a play on his last name.
“Hey.” Dammit. I had told them, I had told those fuckers—
“We were hoping that we could get a hold of you to discuss a rare and we think exciting opportunity. Theo wants to film an episode of his show at your restaurant. We—”
“Yeah, I’m not interested,” I replied, and then I hung up.
I really liked that my desk phone was the old-fashioned kind so I could slam down the receiver in that really satisfying way that just jamming your finger on an ‘end call’ button never could match.
That motherfucker.
And fucking Virginia. I had told her, when we had sorted out the divorce, that she could have whatever she wanted, that I would pay whatever she wanted, but that she was never going to get her damn claws in my restaurant. And neither would Theo.
Virginia was working closely with Theo on this whole project. She knew what I’d said and she could’ve told them not to do this.
I had never wanted to see Theo again and I had meant it. I’d told him that, I’d told Virginia that, I’d told that to everyone who would listen so that people would stop fucking trying to get us to reconcile.
How dare this producer - how dare Theo and Virginia - how dare any of them have the gall? How dare they think that I’d just let them waltz back in to shoot an episode when they fucked me over by leaving for LA in the first place so that Theo could become a damn celebrity chef?
Who had that kind of audacity?
Hollywood, apparently. And Theo and Virginia.
I tried to put the incident out of my mind. I had other things to worry about, mainly Stevie and the restaurant. And being careful around Brooke. She’d kill me if she found out that I’d slept with her best friend.
But two days later—
I was at the host stand, checking things for the night, when someone tapped on the host stand and cleared their throat.
I looked up from the computer and my jaw nearly dropped.
Virginia looked good. A tight, slinky dress, the kind that used to get my blood going like nothing else. She’d dyed her usually dark hair blonde, but it looked good on her. Nice makeup, if a bit dramatic for my tastes.
It was the first time I’d seen her in person in three years. Hell, I’d barely talked to her, over phone or email or anything else. We’d been lucky in a way that when we’d split, Brooke had been old enough that we didn’t need to keep communicating for her sake. She could navigate her own relationship with both of us. Saved a bit of awkwardness.
“Michael.” Virginia gave me a warm smile. Too warm.
“Virginia. You look nice.” I tried to keep from sounding too fake or hostile. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t I just stop by to see how you’re doing? How the restaurant is doing? We built it up together, after all. It was our dream.”
It used to be our dream, yes, together, but Virginia abandoned that long ago. I wasn’t going to let her choose to use that now, after she’d abandoned this place and abandoned me.
“You’re here on a random Wednesday, one of our slow days, without calling ahead,” I pointed out.
Virginia gave me a look that she used to give me a lot—it was her oh no, you’ve caught me, aren’t I naughty look. Once, that look had made me want to throw her onto the nearest horizontal surface and fuck her stupid.
Now, I felt nothing.
“All right,” Virginia said with a sigh. “If you’re going to be so difficult about it… I was hoping that we could talk. Privately?”
I nodded and let one of the actual hostesses take over the host stand, leading Virginia over to one of our quiet booths. I had nothing else to do at the moment, since it was slow, so I sat down with her and got her a menu.
Virginia’s eyebrows rose as she looked at the menu. It was the new one, with all of Stevie’s recipes on it, and a new design. “What happened to Theo’s menu?”
I could tell that she wasn’t pleased. I also couldn’t help smiling as I looked at her, thinking of Stevie and her talent and determination. “We have a new chef who’s turning out to be very popular.”
Virginia put the menu down, eyebrows still raised, and didn’t ask to order anything. When a server approached the table, she shooed him away. I nodded at him to let him know that it was all right.
Virginia reached across the table, taking my hand. “Do you remember when we first opened this place?”
I pulled my hand away. “I remember.”
It had been the best night of my life, other than the night that Brooke was born. All of that hard work, all the risk, the planning and worry - and the opening night had been a success.
I’d never felt so accomplished, so on top of my game, so successful.
“Do you remember what happened that night?” Virginia asked, her voice dropping down a little, soft and breathy.
Best Friend’s Daddy Page 7
