“You’re going to lower yourself to diner-pancake level?” Julie forced teasing into her voice and looked at Dante. Where they were allowed to eat seemed like such a silly concern, in the middle of the carnage. At the same time, thinking about it was a nice distraction.
He chuckled. “Just because they weren’t made in a kitchen that cost more than most entire homes, doesn’t change the fact they taste amazing. Besides, if you haven’t checked the place out yet, they have good coffee.”
She was still annoyed he’d gone over her head to make arrangements, and she’d rather be fixing things than sitting down to breakfast. It devoured her to have to call him in the first place, but he’d needed to know, though she’d expected him to turn the situation back on her somehow.
And now he was apologizing, and offering an olive branch. His concern was a pleasant change, and she didn’t need to add more stress to what already weighed her down. Going to breakfast with the two of them would be easier on the soles of her feet than wearing a trench here with her pacing. “I’ll grab my shoes. Deal with your lumber guy, and then we’ll go.”
Chapter Nine
When Julie was in college, on weekends, all the students in her class had shifts at the school restaurant, as both wait staff and chefs, to learn the ins and outs of the business, not just the cooking side of things.
From the pressed linen tablecloths and contrasting napkins, to the lack of menu—because one ordered what the chef felt like preparing that evening—it was kind of like the five-star place so many of them aspired to run one day and so few would ever manage to.
Julie needed the extra income to pay for classes, however, so she also waitressed between studying and their school-mandated job. The diner where she worked was a lot like this one.
She was more comfortable in a local diner than a high-end place. The way Dante and Christopher sat, relaxed posture and easy smiles, they felt the same. Julie didn’t want to imagine what a pain it would be to have a list of restricted dining arrangements based on who owned what eateries. That would suck.
The stress of the morning hadn’t erased her irritation with Dante. He’d insulted them last night, and despite his attempts to make things right, his tantrum still cost everyone else their evenings. Then he had the nerve to walk into the shop at three in the morning, and start making decisions as if they were his to make. She called him as a courtesy, nothing more.
She wasn’t in the mood to argue with him any more than she wanted to be kind, so she turned to Christopher. “Have you always been interested in networks and security?”
“Yes. But it’s not where I started, career-wise, if that’s what you’re really asking.”
She hadn’t thought that far. Her desire was to make small talk, but now she was curious about the details. “I’ll bite. What did you use to do?”
“I was a sex therapist.” Christopher spoke with such a casual air, he might have said he sifted his dry ingredients before he mixed them with the wet.
Julie inhaled in shock and nearly choked on her coffee. She set down her mug. “That’s a real thing?”
He raised his brows, but a smile hid underneath the expression. “You’ll hurt my feelings. It’s a very real thing.”
“How do you... rather... what does a job like that involve? You’d have to be pretty open about sexuality, I assume. Willing to listen to people talk about... What? Performance issues? Dissatisfaction? How to get more satisfaction?” God, she was babbling. She needed to stop before she delved into questions like, Can you teach me any secret orgasm techniques? or, Would you consider returning to the profession if I wanted a hands-on demonstration? Which she’d only ask to irritate Dante.
But Dante put down his fork and leaned in when the topic shifted. Curiosity decorated his expression, rather than the annoyance she’d thought was a permanent feature.
“All of the above,” Christopher said. “Sometimes, I was there to listen. Other times, the situation required a more direct approach.”
“Then you did hands-on work?” Heat flooded her cheeks. She didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“Excuse me.” A woman interrupted their breakfast. She stood a few inches back from their table, ignoring the man tugging at her arm. “You’re Dante Larsen, aren’t you?”
Julie should be grateful for the interruption, but disappointment washed over her instead. It was like someone flipped a switch. In the amount of time it took the stranger to ask her question, the moods and postures of Julie’s dining companions flip-flopped. Christopher sank in his chair, an impassive mask covering his friendly smile, while Dante grinned like he was in front of the cameras.
This ought to be interesting. With any luck, more interesting-ha-ha, and less interesting-bang-splat-uh-oh.
*
“Holly, let the man enjoy his dinner in peace.”
Christopher consciously worked at not sulking. Besides it being childish, it wouldn’t do him any good. This was as much a part of Dante’s life as the screaming phone calls from Nash. Christopher was okay with random fans approaching them most of the time, but there were days he just wanted to enjoy a quiet meal. Mornings like this, for instance.
“It’s fine,” Dante assured them. “And yes. I’m he.” He extended his hand. “Holly, he said? Pleasure to meet you.”
“That’s right. And this is Bob. We’re in Chicago for our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary.” She shook Dante’s hand with so much enthusiasm, Christopher wondered if she was trying to work it free and take it home as a souvenir.
He took a sip of coffee, resisting the urge to down the entire mug in a single gulp.
“Congratulations.” Dante waved their waiter over as he spoke, and told him, “Bring me their bill? This is on me.” He turned back to Holly, without waiting for a response. “I can tell the two of you are very happy together.”
“That’s not necessary,” Bob said.
Dante waved off the protest. “It is, and it’s done.”
“I really don’t want to interrupt your breakfast.” Holly hadn’t stopped grinning, but she did let go of Dante’s hand.
Christopher swallowed the then you shouldn’t have, trying to force its way out. There was no reason to let this get under his skin.
“I was wondering... Could we possibly get a picture with you?” Holly handed Christopher her phone. “And your... girlfriend? Wife?”
Before Christopher could decide how much of an edge to put in his response, Julie grabbed the phone. “Let me, please.”
At the same time, almost as if they’d rehearsed it, Dante intertwined his fingers with Christopher’s and brought their hands to rest on the table. “The handsome gentleman is my boyfriend. The charming young lady is a business partner, who’s opening a local bakery. Best damned cookies ever.”
Julie slipped the woman a business card. “Grand opening in about ten days. Mention my name, and they’ll hook you up.”
“Thank you. I didn’t mean... That is...” Holly stammered while she pocketed the card. “I didn’t mean any offense. You make a lovely couple.”
“We absolutely do.” The assurance in Dante’s words warmed Christopher from the inside out and chased away some of the lingering clouds.
Bob scrubbed his face. “Take the picture, Holly. Let them get back to their food.”
Dante pulled the couple in closer, never letting go of Christopher’s hand.
“Are you enjoying Chicago?” Julie asked as she snapped photos.
Holly’s smile grew with each new click of the shutter. “We always do. We’re from here originally, but we’ve lived in Atlanta for the last few years. This will always be home, though.”
“I can see why you like it.” Dante was all friendliness and cheer. “Julie just moved here.”
“And it’s fantastic. You have to give me a list of places to visit,” Julie said.
Holly laughed. “Where to start?”
“Anything visual. Julie’s got an eye for unique and stunning art.” Dante shifte
Julie snapped more shots. “Overload me with suggestions. I want to experience it all.”
“I’ve got a couple properties in Atlanta,” Dante said. “One across the street from the Coca-Cola building.”
Holly shook her head. “It’s nothing like the Water Tower here.”
“Right?” Julie didn’t miss a beat. “That was the first place I had to see when I arrived. Wrigley Field second.”
Bob raised his brows. “Are you a Cubs fan?”
“Isn’t everyone?” Dante chuckled.
“Good man.” Bob clapped him on the shoulder.
Christopher clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t remember the last time Dante watched a baseball game, but it was fascinating to see him and Julie bounce off each other verbally. Christopher wasn’t going to interrupt that.
Between Dante and Julie, they kept the couple happy and distracted, and sped the process along.
Julie settled back into her seat the moment Holly and Bob were gone. The glint in her eyes and her smile said she’d enjoyed the moment as much as Dante did.
“Holly had a good point. The two of you make a cute couple.” Christopher meant it as a joke and knew Dante would see it that way.
“Jealous?” Dante asked.
“Hardly. Speaking of...” He turned to Julie. “Are you feeling better?” He hated to bring it up, but he wanted to help her cope, and checking in with her was the best way to see if it was working.
“A bit. Thank you for pulling me away from the shop. I would have gone nuts inside my own head if I’d stayed.”
“I’m not blind.” Dante’s cheer-for-show was gone, stashed behind the edged teasing most people didn’t deal well with. Including Julie, if the past was any indicator. “I’ve seen you together, and it’s not one-sided.”
Christopher braced himself for a plummet in the conversation. He wasn’t sure if it would be less disruptive to tell Dante to knock off the flirting, or to let the situation play itself out.
Julie ducked her head, but her smile never faded. “It’s not like I’m hitting on him. I know the two of you are together.”
“I never said you were hitting on him. Your words, not mine. But now that you mention it, is my boyfriend not good enough for you?”
“He’s your boyfriend.”
“Give her a break,” Christopher said to Dante. “You’re going to scare her off before she realizes how much of this conversation is teasing and how much is serious.” He bit his tongue. He meant to change the topic, not give Dante an excuse to keep it going.
“All right.” Dante rolled his eyes. “For the record, I’d think there was something wrong with your eyesight if you didn’t think Christopher was a sexy hunk of a specimen.” He locked his gaze on Julie. “And I’d be a surprised if you didn’t at least suspect he’s been figuring out whether or not it’s safe to hit on you.”
Julie furrowed her brow. “You almost sound like you think that’s a good thing.”
Dante traced a finger over the back of Julie’s hand. “What do we have to do to get rid of the almost?”
“We should go.” Julie didn’t pull away from his touch.
Possibilities and consequences raced through Christopher’s thoughts. No risk meant no reward, but this didn’t seem like the right moment to segue to sex. “Do you mind stopping by our place before we go back to the bakery? Neither one of us is ready for the day.” Flirting with her now was a bad idea. It wasn’t the time to get into anything like what he wanted to do with her—a lot of which would involve tying Julie down and exploring every inch of her—but he hoped taking the conversation someplace quieter and easing up a little would keep her in this calmer, neutral mood.
Chapter Ten
Christopher watched Julie pace the length of their living room. She radiated so much nervous energy, he wondered if he should have skipped the coffee at breakfast and just gone with a contact high.
“I should have had you drop me off at the shop,” she said for the fifth time. Or was it the tenth? He’d lost count. So much for dialing back her stress and putting her at ease.
He was worried about her and had a tough time imagining her behavior didn’t drive Dante nuts while Christopher showered. Now Dante was getting ready for the day, while Christopher entertained their guest. Time to try a different approach. “What would you have done if we left you there?”
“What wouldn’t I have done? There’s glass to sweep up. The plywood needs to be covered over before the cameras start filming. I could be tearing down the wallpaper. Making sure the kitchen is ready. God. The cookies. I didn’t check on those. What if the samples for today are ruined? I can’t believe I forgot about that.”
Christopher stepped in her path, grabbed her hands, and spun her to a stop. He pulled her to one of the chairs by the table. “Sit down.”
“I can call a ride. You don’t have to hurry to get ready. I should get back.” The longer she talked, the more her words rushed together.
“Sit.”
She looked startled at the sharp tone and followed his command.
“I get it.” He kept his voice sympathetic and kind. “You want to fix everything right now, and you’re afraid it will all fall apart if you’re not there. I promise, the people Dante called are doing their jobs. You need to focus on those things you can control.”
“Which, as of this moment, is absolutely nothing.” Panic crept into her tone.
He knelt in front of her and caught her gaze. “Not true. You can direct this conversation if you’d like. You can get up and move to a new seat. You can go, if that will help you feel better.”
“That’s all piddly stuff.” Despite the protest, her eyes weren’t as wild, and some of the tension faded from her tone.
“It’s a starting point. The stuff happening back at the bakery at this moment? Not yours to command. Those people know their jobs as well as you know yours.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she sank a few inches in the chair. “You make it sound simple. It’s not as easy as telling my brain to turn it off.”
In the background, the bathroom door clicked open. Dante was done. Christopher needed to wrap this conversation up before Dante steered it back toward where he wanted their breakfast topic to go. A lot of this exchange was tied to work Christopher had done as a therapist, but that wasn’t what he was going for with Julie. Not today. He wanted to see her feeling better. “Not at first, it’s not. But you can train yourself to consciously slide into that space.”
“How’s that work?”
“You start with something that doesn’t unravel your world if you let someone else take the reins. A specific thing you can let go of without freaking out. That you don’t have an emotional attachment to.” The explanation echoed one from Christopher’s past, when he’d met Dante but they weren’t together yet. He shoved the similarities aside. There was no reason to dwell on that, because the differences were severe enough it wouldn’t happen.
“Like what to eat for breakfast?” Julie asked.
He shook his head. “It has to have higher stakes.”
“So it has to be something that doesn’t matter but does?” She raised her brows. “I’ll ask again. Like what?”
Dante wandered into the room. “Sex.”
And there it was. Don’t do things this way. Christopher set the mental mantra to repeat. It was true Julie sent toxic and delicious fantasies running through his mind, a lot of which he’d shared with Dante. But this was about helping Julie calm down.
Julie twisted her mouth, as she glanced over her shoulder. “That’s a good setup. Is this a joke, to see how I’ll react? Because it’s not funny.”
“It’s not a joke.” Christopher prayed Dante wouldn’t ruin things. Not that Christopher was sure how he’d defined ruined in this case. Did he want to convince Julie? Fuck. It didn’t matter if he tried to pretend otherwise; he wanted to turn the topic to physical outlets, despite the fact they hadn’t gotten to those details. This also seemed like the worst possible time to bring up something like that. “Sex is one option. But there are others.”
“Is this some kind of power-surrender gimmick?” Julie looked at Christopher again. “I suppose, since you’re making the suggestion, you know the perfect person to teach me the only thing I need to learn, to be happy in life, is to let the right guy put me in line?”
Christopher stared back, trying to keep his conflicting thoughts from his face. He didn’t like the assumption or her accusation. He was torn between convincing her this was a good idea, and moving to a safer subject. It wouldn’t hurt to help her understand, would it? “It’s not about putting you in line. It’s about you recognizing that letting someone else have control can be as rewarding as taking all the responsibility for yourself. You jump in, head first. Baptism by immersion. Giving it all up at once, because you trust the person you’re with, so you can recognize what doesn’t destroy you, makes you stronger.”
“Who’s that person? The one I trust that much? Not you. You’re in a committed relationship. That detracts a bit from your authenticity.”
“Except that I’m standing right here, so he’s not keeping anything secret from me,” Dante said.
Julie gave a bark of a laugh. “Holy shit. You are talking about yourself.” She looked at Dante. “And you don’t have a problem with your boyfriend sleeping with other people?”
Dante shrugged. “As long as he’s honest about it—preferably with both me and whomever he’s with—nope. Details are better. Watching is best. The most important thing is I know he’s coming home to me at the end of the night.”
Christopher might have imagined it, but he swore Dante’s voice wavered on those last words.
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