In the Distance
Page 3
“And that means what exactly?”
I stared up the windows of my very dark and empty condo.
“Tell me about the place you’re taking me to in Reno this weekend.”
Chapter Three
Tyler
Last Week of October
Siouxsie and the Banshees crooned over the speakers in the kitchen. Ethan’s latest playlist included all his usual rock favorites, but he’d included a few themed songs to help get us in the mood for the holiday.
Halloween had always been my favorite holiday as a kid. I loved the candy and decorations, wandering around the neighborhood with my friends. But my favorite part had been the costumes. For one night, I could be anyone or anything I wanted to be, as long as I didn’t dress up as anything my parents considered deviant or satanic. For a few hours, I was able to forget I was Tyler Mitchell, perfect son of Marjorie and Ed Mitchell. Tyler Mitchell, who had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t all year long. Family or no family, at least now I didn’t have to pretend anymore.
“Tyler, we need more cranberries from the back. Chef Martin’s need to dress as many of our dishes with cranberry sauce as possible has put a dent in our supply. So before we have an uprising of dissatisfied, cranberryless diners on our hands, I need to whip up a new batch for the other hundred plates that seem to require that extra special touch.”
Trying to suppress my laughter, I smiled and set my knife down. “Sure, Chef Lassiter.” Chef Martin threw his towel at his husband and feigned a hurt look. “What? It’s festive.”
“It looks like blood, E.”
Chef Martin smirked before turning back to his station. “Exactly. It’s festive.”
Cranberry relish. Fingerling potatoes. Pumpkin tarts and scones. Ethan and Jamie celebrated all the major holidays with their ever-changing custom menus, but they had gone over the top with their Halloween dishes and decorations.
“Back me up here, Tyler. I mean, I could have done the whole cold spaghetti and peeled grapes gag to add some panache to our dishes, but that idea got vetoed in our last meeting.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “The horror and injustice of it all is almost too much to bear, but I’m pretty confident you’ll recover, E.”
“Mock me all you want, Lassiter, but my cranberry relish is a hot item on the menu right now. And don’t even get me started on the decorations, because I still think Igor would look awesome in the dining room.”
My eyes suddenly went to the decoration next to the fryer station. In addition to the fresh pumpkins and gourds tastefully adorning the dining room, Ethan had strung up less tasteful but more entertaining decorations in the kitchen—including a life-size skeleton next to the fryers with a sign that read “Caution: Proper Attire is Required Around the Fryers. You Have Been Warned.” I had thanked the kitchen gods multiple times since it went up in early October I wasn’t scheduled for the fryer station until the week after Halloween.
I was just coming out of the storeroom when Ethan brushed past me with a scowl on his face. A harried-looking younger guy followed him, a clipboard clutched tightly in his hand and a look of pure fear on his face. I knew both of those looks. One said another delivery had just been screwed up. The other said someone wished he was anywhere but following a very pissed-off Ethan Martin.
“How do you forget the motherfucking potatoes? You’re a goddamn vegetable supplier.” Ethan groused as he worked himself up into one of his epic rants.
I went back to chopping my veggies for Witch’s Caldron Tortellini, which was Ethan’s Halloween version of pasta primavera. No sooner had my knife sliced through a bright red bell pepper than Siouxsie stopped singing. There was a brief moment of silence, then John Denver began serenading the staff about his Rocky Mountain high.
Jamie’s low laugh echoed behind me. “E will have your ass for that, you know.”
I turned to see who’d been stupid enough to touch Chef Martin’s remote. Trevor Pratt, Jamie’s friend and the guy who managed his career, leaned against the counter with the stereo remote still aimed at the iPod dock. His charcoal-gray Henley and faded blue jeans were a stark contrast to the rest of the kitchen staff’s chef whites. “Thanks for the warning, J, but I’m pretty sure that, as little as he works out, he couldn’t handle my ass on a good day.”
“You just love pissing him off.”
He shot Jamie a wicked smile as he laid the remote on the counter next to him. “I do enjoy poking the proverbial bear.”
As Jamie enveloped Trevor in a hug, Trevor’s snarky expression morphed into something gentler. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Jamie. When they pulled apart, Trevor’s smile was still there, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes as he turned away from Jamie and walked over to my station. I felt my heart speed up as he leaned against the counter next to me.
“Hey, Tyler. These guys being good to you?”
I kept my eyes trained on the cutting board as my brain suddenly blanked out. I wasn’t chatty on my best days, but put me in the room with an attractive guy and my mouth felt like it was filled with sand. Unable to form a coherent word, I simply nodded.
“Good. I know Ethan can be a major PITA, but I have faith Jamie can keep him in line.”
“Trevor.” Jamie’s voice held the same kind of exasperated warning it always did when Ethan was spazzing out in the kitchen.
I heard him snort, and looked up just in time to see him snatch a pepper off my board. “So, Jamie told me you started classes at the Culinary Institute. How are they going?”
He popped the pepper in his mouth and I watched, mesmerized, until he grinned at me. Shit. He’d caught me drooling over him. I jerked my gaze away and focused on chopping. Was he still staring? Wait, he’d asked me a question and I was still just standing there like an asshat.
“It’s good,” I croaked. I cleared the huge lump that had just formed in my throat and started over, my eyes still focused on anything but his face. “It’s good. We just started basic sauces, so that part is easy since Chef Martin taught me that stuff a year ago. It’s made this first semester less daunting.”
Trevor plucked another piece of pepper off my board but held on to it instead of taking a bite. “Shit. You do know that throws a total wrench in my plans, right?”
I set my knife down and looked over at him. “What plans?”
H leaned closer and mock-whispered in my ear. “My plans of thinking he’s a total bastard. But when I hear about him being a normal human being and taking care of you like you’re his family, well, that screws it all up.”
I wasn’t sure whether it was his smile or his words that made my stomach flutter—probably both—but all I wanted at that moment was to keep him talking, regardless of how idiotic I might sound.
“Well, there was this one time when one of my practice plates—”
“God dammit! Who fucked with my music? And why the hell is Trustfund chatting up my sous-chef?”
I looked up and caught Trevor’s wicked smile as he turned to face Ethan.
“Well hello to you, too, Ethan. I love the musical inspiration you have for your staff. Think I can get the playlist from you while I’m in town?”
“Fuck you, Trustfund. While you’re at it, get away from my sous-chef. He has more important things to do than entertain your sorry ass. And hand me my damn remote. I can only deal with one disaster at time and a ruined shipment of goat cheese and missing potatoes trumps your shitty taste in music any day.”
Trevor winked at me, then pushed away from my station to talk to Jamie again. Once the remote was in Ethan’s hand, Siouxsie resumed her exaltation of all things Halloween and the kitchen staff went back to their tasks.
I could feel the heat spread over my neck and cheeks as I returned my focus, or lack thereof, to the pepper in front of me. Trevor was gorgeous, rich and funny. He could walk into
any room and both the men and women would fall for him. Everyone, that is, except Ethan, who generally wanted to throttle him.
Trevor put his hand on Jamie’s back. “Hey J. We still on for lunch tomorrow?”
I watched as Jamie tried to hold back his laugh when Ethan’s knife flew faster over the chopping block in front of him. Ethan was shit at trying to hide his frustration.
“Lunch sounds good, Trev. There’s a new café that specializes in seafood near the market I’d like to try out if you’re game.”
“Checking out the competition, huh? Want to see if there really are better fish in the ocean?”
Ethan’s knife paused over his chopping block. “There is no competition, Trustfund.”
It took everything I had not to laugh when Trevor reached out and patted Ethan on the cheek. “Got that message loud and clear at your wedding, sunshine.” Ethan tensed and I stopped stirring my burgundy sauce.
Jamie stepped between them. “Ethan, behave. Trevor was only kidding.” He turned to Trevor. “And you, knock it off. You’re the one who started this crap by touching his stereo.”
Ethan grumbled, but Jamie ignored him, giving him a quick kiss before he tossed his kitchen towel aside. “I’m taking a break to talk to Trevor about the promo stuff coming up and to give everyone a breather in here. It wouldn’t be good for business if we had added real blood to our menu.”
Jamie had almost pulled Trevor through the swinging doors when Trevor caught my eye one last time and winked. As quickly as it happened, it was over and the kitchen was suddenly too quiet.
“Alright everyone. Show’s over. Back to work.” Ethan pointed at me, scowling. “And you. Stay away from Trevor. You don’t want people like him in your life. Trust me on that.”
Eminem and Rihanna replaced Siouxsie on the stereo. Next to me, I heard Ethan’s litany of mumbled curses as he prepped his next batch of cranberries. “Fucking asshole...coming into my kitchen...show him what happens when...”
I loved Ethan, but right then I was getting a lot of satisfaction out of imagining the new guy forgetting to replace the fryer drain plug like I had before and turning the kitchen into an oily mess. I knew Ethan thought of me as a little brother, as someone he needed to take care of, but I wasn’t his little brother, and I didn’t need protecting.
For once, an attractive guy had talked to me. I knew it wasn’t anything more than Trevor being polite but it had felt nice to be singled out. Even better, it felt good to have a conversation with a guy as attractive as Trevor and not completely seize up. Small talk was difficult for me on the best of days, even within my small circle of friends. Small talk with a guy like Trevor? A year ago, I would have run to the storage room and hid out until after he left. But this time, I’d almost held my own.
Unable to hold it back any longer, I finally gave up the battle and let my smile loose. As the bell peppers fell into neat slices across the board, I hummed along with the music.
Chapter Four
Trevor
I followed Jamie through Bistro 30’s dining room out to the bar and took a good look at the place he and Ethan had brought to life. As much as it pained me to admit, Jamie was happy. More than that, though—he was content. How he could be with someone as mercurial as Ethan Martin, I had no clue, but he was.
“White or red?”
“Sorry?”
Jamie raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Do you want white or red?”
“You should know by now I’m a red wine snob. What do you have?”
“Lily just hooked us up with a great pinot noir from a new winery in the Willamette Valley. It’s been a house favorite since we started carrying it. Want to try it? Or are you still stuck in your Zinfandel stage?”
I feigned mock hurt as Jamie reached for some wineglasses. “I’m out of my Zinfandel phase, thank you very much. And pinot sounds great. Speaking of phases, how are things with Lovely Lily?”
Jamie shot me his best don’t fucking push it look over his shoulder as he reached for a wine bottle from the rack behind the bar. The bartender, a cute twenty-something with dreads, grabbed the bottle from his hands and deftly uncorked it for him before handing it back. Jamie patted her on the shoulder before she moved off to the far end of the bar to restock the glassware, giving us space and privacy to talk. Jamie filled our glasses and had already taken a drink before finally answering my question.
“Lily is fine. She brought her latest girl crush in last time she was in town. Not sure if this one is serious, but Lily could hardly take her eyes and hands off her.”
“Interesting. And it’s cool between you all? There’s no weirdness there?”
“No, Trev. There’s no weirdness there. Look, Ethan and I were apart for what? Eight, almost nine years? It would be asinine for me to have expected him to be a saint during that time. I sure wasn’t. But we’re together now, and isn’t that what really matters?”
I had no answer to that, so I took a sip of wine and dipped my head with a noncommittal nod. He sighed and took a sip of his wine before looking out over the dining room.
“Lily was, and still is, a good friend to E. But she’s his past and I’m his present and future.”
I stared down at the mahogany bar, unable to meet his eyes any longer. If Lily was Ethan’s past, then I was Jamie’s. Yes, we were still friends and both of us were working hard to keep our friendship alive. But the truth was we were never going to be as close as we had been. I was genuinely happy for Jamie and the life he’d found with Ethan, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it was weird between us.
“That’s great, Jamie. I mean it.”
“Enough about Lily and Ethan. I’m really glad you’re here, Trev. It’s been, what, two months since you were in town?”
“Three, but who’s counting? The restaurant looks better and better each time I visit, J. Hell, even Tyler is coming out of his shell more.”
“Thanks, and he is.” Jamie paused and narrowed his eyes. “You wanna tell me what that was back there in the kitchen, though?”
“Tell you about what back where?”
“About you chatting up our sous-chef, as Ethan so eloquently put it. I know I’ve told you before, but he’s had it pretty rough and I’d hate for anything to screw up this new self-confidence he’s found.”
“Why would I have anything to do with screwing things up for Tyler? By talking to him? Asking about his classes?”
He just looked at me and cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh God. You really think I’d flirt with him just to get him to drop trou?”
“Look, Trev. We both know you’re not exactly a monk. You had your fair share of conquests when we were both in New York, and from our phone conversations lately, it doesn’t sound like much has changed.”
“Jamie—”
“Just listen to me for a minute, Trevor. I’m not saying your goal is to fuck and chuck him. But Tyler’s a good kid. His parents were assholes when they found out he was gay. Kicked him out and turned their backs on him. In case you’ve forgotten, I can relate to that.”
“Jamie—”
“And maybe we are being protective of him, but he deserves better than the shitty hand he’s been dealt already. Shit, Trev, I wasn’t here when Ethan found him behind Sharpe’s on Fifth, but his description of how skinny and scared Tyler was is enough to make anyone want to protect him. My parents were assholes, but at least I didn’t end up on the streets like Tyler. That would have been—”
“Jamie! For the love of God, take a breath and let me talk. I never once thought about chatting him up to get into his pants. That’s low, even from you. I was talking to him. You do know what that means, right? Talking, not ramming my tongue down his throat while I stripped him in the middle of your kitchen so I could have my way with him. I get that his parents are bigoted shitheads.
But don’t you think Tyler can make his own decisions about who he wants to talk to? Because this isn’t about me, this is about any guy you and Ethan don’t deem worthy.”
Jamie set his wineglass down and looked over at the bartender, lowering his voice when he answered me. “Look, I know these past two years haven’t been easy between us, but I love you as the brother I never had growing up. So I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass and pretend you haven’t made a sizable dent in New York’s single male population.”
“I haven’t—”
He laughed and held up a hand to stop me. “You have. You’re either at a club, leaving someone’s place late at night or across the country texting me pictures of your weekend companion. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re going out and having fun. It’s just, I know you, Trevor. You’ve never liked being alone. All I’m asking is for you to remember he’s just a kid who doesn’t need that kind of complicated shit in his life right now. As crappy as it sounds, I’m afraid you’ll just play with him until you get bored and move on to the next shiny thing. He’s been passed around enough for one lifetime, don’t you think?”
I took a drink of wine to collect my thoughts, which, admittedly, were all over the place and veering dangerously into the land of pissed-off. I reined it in as much as I could, but still heard the sarcasm that dripped from my own voice. “Glad to know I’m one step higher than your average streetwalker. I swear, you’re worse than my mother, J. What’s wrong with having a little bit of fun before I settle down?”
He looked at me skeptically and poured some more wine in our glasses. “Settle down? I wasn’t sure that was even in your vocabulary.”
I winced and stared him straight in the eye, all pretense of joking gone. “I considered it once, but we both know how that ended up.”
Jamie sighed and walked around the end of the bar to sit on the bar stool next to mine. Neither of us spoke, not that there was anything either of us could say at that point that hadn’t already been spoken before. I sent up a silent thank-you that I’d come to the restaurant during a slow time of the day. This conversation would have been a whole lot more fun with a dining room full of curious diners.