“Um,” I begin, “I’m not sure that is a good idea. You’re Noah’s cousin, he’s my boss, you’re our new vendor, that’s business, darlin’, and I’m not sure mixing all that in a pot together is the best recipe.”
“Well played,” she says with a smile and her hand on my shoulder.
“Pardon?”
“You’re a chef, and you put in a cheffy type thing.”
“Alright, first, I do not think that cheffy is a real word. Then, second of all that is the truth. It’s a mixture that could be bad form, and I stay away from bad form shit,” I explain fighting the laughter at her choice of words.
“You sure about that?” she asks.
“Not one damn bit, but I am sticking to my guns, it’s what’s best,” I nod as if trying to convince myself.
“So, if you weren’t working for my cousin, this could happen?”
“I’m not quittin’ my job, so get that thought out of that pretty head of yours.”
“Aw, you think I’m pretty,” she says fanning herself exaggeratedly.
“I think anyone would notice that,” I say steering toward the highway ramp directing traffic to the convention center in downtown Hollybrooke.
“Thank you, I mean it. And the offer will stand for as long as needed, I think you and I could have some fun,” she leans back against the seat and folds her hands in her lap.
I don’t reply to her comment; I don’t need to. I’m attracted to her, but what I said still stands.
In one way or another, she’s a part of The Neighborhood Bar just the same as I am. I don’t need to have romance in my life, hell - if being married before taught me anything, it’s that romance can die and turn ugly in a flash.
Chapter Fifty-Three
During the first day of the expo, my mind kept wandering to the proposition from Bev.
Could I just hook up with her and let that be it?
What if she caught feelings?
What if I caught feelings?
The first day of the expo was fun. There were a lot of locally sourced businesses ranging from economical kitchen appliances to farmers. I attended a few cooking classes, one to partake in specializing in different ethnic tastes and another in plating experiences, which was basically food presentation. My favorite part of the first day was a panel discussing the adventure that food can take someone on. While Bev and I were mostly apart for the day, off networking or partaking in different experiences, we met up again and sat together for this late afternoon panel, at the end of the day.
My feet are killing me, and I am ready to crawl under the covers in my hotel room. Our rooms are joined and once we bid one another goodnight, I lock the door before escaping into a massive shower. I take my time, enjoying the hot water pelting against my shoulders and lower back. When my shower is finished, steam billowed from the door into my room upon opening. I hear someone knocking on the door insistently. I look out the peephole and see no one, but the knocking continues. I whirl around and see the other door that opens to the room beside me, Bev’s room.
With hesitation, I tighten the towel around my waist, and unlock the door.
Why am I torturing myself like this? I should just ignore the knock and put headphones in and call it a night. I can give her some excuse in the morning about passing out, but would she believe me?
Bev is on the other side of the entryway as I open the door. Her eyes carefully move across my body. she smiles, licks her lips, then leans on the doorway holding a bottle of wine.
“Well, I wasn’t quite expecting a greeting like this, but I’ll take it,” she says in a breathy tone as her eyes slowly rake up my body, stopping at the towel that I absently tighten at her perusal around my waist.
“I was just about to hit the hay, what’s going on?” I clear my throat to bring her eyes to mine even though I enjoy her checking me out, which in the back of my mind, I know that I shouldn’t. But I’m a guy, I can’t help it.
“I was hoping we could have a night cap, unwind after a long drive and a long day of the expo?” She holds up the bottle in her hand.
I look at the clock on the nightstand beside the bed and notice that it’s relatively early still.
“I really should get some rest, there are a lot of panels and demonstrations that I want to tackle tomorrow,” I explain.
“Don’t be a party pooper,” she pouts playfully shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“One drink,” I state firmly holding up my finger.
“One for you, and the rest for me,” she smiles widely and bounces on her feet.
“Give me a moment to dress?” I ask.
“I mean, you don’t really have to,” she winks at me.
“Five minutes and I’ll come over to have that drink with you.”
Exactly, five minutes later after pacing back and forth in my room, brushing my teeth a few times and giving myself a pep talk, I’m opening up the door again joining our two rooms and find her sitting at the top of the bed with the bottle of wine beside her and a red Solo cup in her hand. Her eyes move from the tablet glowing from her lap to me and she smiles. She pats the space beside her and sets her tablet on the nightstand on the other side.
She’s dressed in a pair of short shorts that gives me a grand view of her ivory legs, and a thin tank top that isn’t doing much to hide the fact that she isn’t wearing a bra.
I situate myself beside her and she hands me a full Solo cup of red wine. She holds up her cup and we tap together.
“Cheers, to a budding friendship,” she says quietly.
“Cheers,” I respond.
“So, tell me about you?” she asks.
“There’s not much to tell, you know what I do, and that’s about all there is,” I reply simply shrugging.
“What do you like to do for fun?”
“Cook,” I reply without hesitation.
“Okay, let’s try again, do you have any hobbies?” she asks.
I tap my finger against my chin and gaze up to the ceiling in thought.
“I like fishing, reading and cooking.”
“That’s better, what kind of books do you like to read?”
“I mostly read true crime and non-fiction,” I offer her feeling uncomfortable with talking about myself since it’s rare that I do.
“Oh cool, I like reading too, I mainly read romance and sometimes I will get into thrillers, but you can always find me binge reading a book by an indie author,” she offers me, despite me not asking.
I don’t want to lead her on and give her the wrong impression, but I’m not a fan of the uncomfortable silence, and she’s a nice person, so I leave my comfort zone just a little.
“Have you ever gone fishin’?” I ask her.
“I have. My dad used to take me and my sisters when I was a little kid. Then he would make us clean the fish and that pretty much grossed me out. Made it so I didn’t eat fish until my mid-twenties,” she scrunches her nose at the memory causing me to laugh.
“I fish almost every weekend,” I tell her, “it’s good for the soul.”
“Is it your thinking time or do you go with friends?” She asks.
“I usually go early in the morning, not too many people that I am friends with are awake, hell they’ve likely gone to bed an hour or so before I’m hitting the lake.”
“So, if you work at the bar until closing, does that mean you don’t sleep, and you go fishing instead?” She asks.
“I have alternating Wednesdays, Fridays, and sometimes Saturdays off.”
“That’s a weird schedule,” she stares absently at the top of her knees.
“So, how did you get into the meat vendor business?” I ask.
She smiles and turns her head, “I was born into it. The original business was my great-grandfather’s, and each generation has worked in some area within the company. My parents didn’t have any sons, so my sisters and I got to choose whether or not we continued to work for the company, to keep it in the family.”
“The rule was that at least one of us would work there, and we wouldn’t be forced. I like building relationships and had no great desires to leave the county like my youngest sister did, so I jumped on the wagon first. I’ve made a name for myself with a lot of the local farms and some distant farms. My other sister, she wasn’t so great in school, and decided to take the easy route and started working for the company a few years ago.”
“Well, every company needs someone,” I reply.
“How did you get into cooking?”
Do I tell her?
I don’t open up to people enough to tell them my story. The only person in my life today who knows about my past is Noah.
Do I open up to this insanely attractive woman who is getting under my skin?
Chapter Fifty-Four
We drank two bottles of wine.
Bev kept pouring and I kept drinking.
Despite the one drink stipulation.
I did whatever I could to not dive into my past, so I kept her talking, and talked about myself in circles.
Did she notice? Probably, she’s smart.
But she didn’t continue prying after I gave her a shit excuse, a grumble and then winked at her.
I’ve always cooked, it just seemed like the right direction. That’s partially true. But I didn’t let on that I’m a classically trained chef. I didn’t tell her about my resume prior to The Neighborhood Bar. I didn’t tell her the reason that I am in Mercy and have been for the past five years is due to a failed marriage. And I didn’t divulge that the marriage fell apart because of me.
She began to fall asleep last night while we were hanging out and that’s when I went back to my room and passed out on my bed.
Now, I’m moving slow this morning with a wicked wine hangover that feels like my brain is rattling against my skull with every small movement. The sky outside is too bright for me right now, so I’m drinking the crappy hotel room coffee in the corner of the room with the bathroom light being the only brightness allowed. At least until my pain meds kicks in.
I hear bumps and plenty of cursing coming from Bev’s room, then a small knock on our joined room door. Slowly, I get up and answer it.
She looks like she’s ready to take on the day and I’m jealous.
“We’ve got thirty minutes until showtime,” she says rubbing her elbow.
“I’m cancelling my morning and I’m declaring no more wine.” I say while rubbing my temples slowly.
“Nope, remember how much fun you had yesterday? Today will be just as awesome. Day two is always the best day. Come on, put on your happy pants,” she urges.
“I have pants on,” I say gruffly.
“But are they happy?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“Fucking’ women. You and I don’t need to go down there together, do we? Last I checked, we each had our own tickets.” I say with slight irritation.
“But conventions are always better with a buddy,” she crosses her arms across her chest, pushing up her ample cleavage and sticking out her bottom lip.
Fucking temptress.
“Besides the point. I’ll find you in the seas of others, I’m going to take a slow morning until I’m ready to be around the general public.”
“You’re grumpy in the morning, has anyone ever told you that?” She says.
“Darlin’, this is my normal self.”
Two hours later, I’m feeling much better and I’ve only missed one of the panels that I wanted to attend. Which was likely for the best as the panelists were discussing the mastery of wine pairings and food as an experience.
Just the thought of wine, makes my temples pulse.
I take a seat in the immersive dining panel, and as if I was being followed the seat beside me was taken within a minute of my sitting down by Bev.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she smiles while smoothing out her skirt.
I give her a nod and then resume looking at the program in my hands.
“Taking food beyond the plate and incorporating all the senses into dining…” This sounds like a bunch of shit that I used to do at my old restaurant, but any kind of refreshing on skills can be a benefit in one way or another. While I know how to make a meal unforgettable, it just seemed right to be taking this panel.
Once it was over I stood up, and as I was about to file out of the crowd, my name is being called from the front of the room and from Bev’s tug on my arm to stay put and let the crowd around us by, she stands taller when she notices that the speaker was the one calling for me.
“You know him?” she whispers pulling my arm as our bodies turn to face the voice calling out my name.
“You sonofabitch!” He says holding his arms out while walking towards us.
“Richard,” I nod, and we lean into one another and give each other a man hug with the pat on the shoulder.
“Mi amigo! Que Paso? Where did you disappear to?” Richard, the speaker, my old friend smiles widely and asks before looking at Bev who is still clinging to my arm and frozen in place. “Señorita, lo siento. I’m sorry, please forgive me. Richard Casablas,” he holds out his hand to her.
As she places hers in his, he lifts it to his lips and kisses the top of her hand, with his eyes never wavering from her my eyes flare and I feel a bit of possessiveness at his innocent gesture.
“Pleased to meet you, I can’t believe that I’m talking to you, and that you two know one another,” she rushes out.
With a confused look on Richard’s face, he turns to me.
“So, my friend, you dropped off the face of the planet and now here you are in the audience, when you should have been beside me on stage,”
“What? Percy on stage? This grumpy gus?” Bev hooks her thumb at me with a laugh.
“My lady, do you know that you are blessed to be standing within the same personal space with the one and only Chef Perce?” Richard addresses her.
“Richard, please,” I growl. Richard’s eyes dart to me with confusion again.
“Que? She doesn’t know who you are?” he asks me as Bev swings her head between us.
“What is he talking about?” she asks.
“We don’t know one another very well. She’s my meat vendor for the kitchen that I’m working in.” I explain as blandly as possible without giving away too many details.
“Ah, I see. So, this beauty isn’t tu novia?”
“No,” I shake my head.
“I’m so confused, what is happening here?” Bev asks, tapping her foot with her hands on her hips.
“This man right here, is —” Richard begins.
“I’m late to the next panel that I was interested in, but first, Richard, a word in private please?” I look to Bev apologetically and pull Richard aside.
“What the hell?” He asks, “she looks like a nice person, why aren’t you hitting that? I know you and Sydney are divorced, a pretty little thing like her shouldn’t be unattended.”
“I’m not dating. And she doesn’t know who I am, because I’m no longer that man,” I say in annoyance.
“What happened?” he asks.
“Sydney did,” I reply quietly.
“She really fucked you over, eh?” he asks.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I shake my head.
“You here for the entirety of the expo?” Richard asks changing the subject finally understanding my mood.
“I am,” I reply nodding.
“Let’s do dinner tonight, my treat?”
“I don’t know, Bev and I are traveling together,”
“Bring her, I can charm her and tell her things in Spanish that she would think is sexy,” Richard wiggles his eyebrows and I push his shoulder lightly. “You know, I’ll whisper random shit in her ear in Spanish.”
“No bringing up the past,” I tell him sternly.
He holds both his hands up, “No talking about the past, just friends enjoying a meal together and drinking wi
ne.”
“No wine,” I say quickly.
“Mi Amigo, all good meals come with wine.”
“We’re staying here in this hotel, dinner at seven?” I ask.
“Seven,” he agrees.
We rejoin Bev who is looking at the two of us with curiosity. Richard kisses her hand again and bids us farewell leaving the two of us alone again.
“I think there’s a lot about you that I don’t know, mister. But don’t worry, I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
“Are you going to let me in on your little secret or what? That entire dinner, I could tell there was something missing from the conversation and now it’s annoying me,” Bev asks.
“Bev, it’s in the past and something that I don’t talk about,” I run my hand over my face before pushing the button for the elevator.
“Oh, come on?” she stomps her foot. “Also, why was your friend talking to me about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? Is that his game? He speaks to women about random things because his language is sexy?”
“You’re like an annoying little sister, you know, that right?” I swing my head and say to her with a laugh.
“I don’t think that the thoughts I’ve had about you are big brother-like,” she says as the elevator doors open to an older couple who obviously heard her by the expression of shock on their faces.
“I’m not. She’s not. We’re not.” I say as they awkwardly walk past us shaking their heads.
Bev walks into the elevator, grabs me by the hook of my elbow, “Come in here you big lug, so I can take advantage of you,” she says pushing me against the wall to finish her show as the doors slide closed.
“You’re insane,” I say, my chest heaving from the situation that just occurred.
She still has me caged against the wall. I’m not a small man by any means, but right now, I’m feeling pretty dominated.
She licks her lips and looks up at me.
“What’s the harm in a little fun?” she asks with a tilt of her head.
The Neighborhood Series (The Neighborhoood) Page 20
