“Good, right? This is a raspberry nebula shake. Those bits in there are chocolate chips.”
Fuck. Darwin had found his new favorite dessert. His whole life had been sliced melons or some other thing the staff served. His mother had insisted on proper nutrition and thought that sweet things were the devil’s work. Once, he’d seen Henley eating a chocolate bar and begged for a bite. His friend had hesitated, then made Darwin promise not to tell. After he’d given his word, Henley had broken off a small piece and handed it over. It had been indescribably delicious, and Darwin had tried not to chew, to let it melt in his mouth so he’d be able to enjoy it as long as possible. He regretted that he’d missed out on things like this during his childhood, and that those habits had carried on into adulthood.
“Welcome to my world, Dare,” Henley said, tipping the cup toward Darwin. “It’s nice of you to visit.”
Darwin never really thought of the divide that existed between him and Henley. In Darwin’s mind, they were equals. But the comment he’d just made reminded Darwin that he didn’t belong in this kind of place, eating corn dogs and drinking shakes. But, damn it, he refused to feel guilty about finally enjoying something.
“I want to play mini-putts,” he said emphatically.
“You have that meeting at eight with Kent and his board, remember?”
A groan escaped Darwin’s lips. He’d forgotten the discussion his brother had scheduled to talk about Darwin taking over his company, which had gone deep into the red. The only way to avoid foreclosure would be for new management, the kind with deep pockets, to step in and bail them out. Almost since birth, Darwin had been schooled on the importance of business, how it had to come before everything else.
He’d taken that lesson to heart every day of his life, including the one time he shouldn’t have. Dean had been so sick, but Darwin had been scheduled to meet with foreign investors who were only in the States for a week. That would be the only opportunity he had to meet with them. Darwin had wanted to cancel, but Dean had urged him to go. He’d protested, and Dean had reminded him how important that deal was, not only to Kincade International, but also to the employees who worked there. So Darwin had gone. They’d wined and dined him, then signed the agreement. He’d returned home flush with pride at sealing the deal. That had lasted until he spotted the ambulance in the driveway, loading a gurney with Dean on it into the back. Darwin had rushed over and clutched his lover’s hand.
Dean had reached up to pull the oxygen mask off, despite the paramedic saying it needed to stay in place.
“How…did…it…go?” he’d gasped out.
“We got everything we wanted.”
Dean had reached out a trembling hand and stroked Darwin’s face. “I knew you could.”
Then his hand had fallen away, and the paramedics had called the police officer over to take Darwin so they could work on Dean. His lover had died on the trip to the hospital, Darwin never getting the opportunity to tell him how sorry he was for leaving him alone. Never getting the chance to tell him he wanted to marry him. The man was his husband in everything but name, and now he could never be more.
Tonight he’d be self-indulgent.
“I want to play mini-putts,” he repeated. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed his assistant.
“Heather, I want you to call my brother and reschedule the meeting. It won’t be taking place tonight after all.”
“But, Mr. Kincade, it’s all been arranged.” Heather sounded flustered, which was unusual for her. She could face a horde of reporters and never bat an eye.
“Then rearrange it. Tell him something came up at the last moment, and I’m unable to attend.”
She answered in her usual business-like tone, clipped and efficient. “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it right away. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Darwin thought for a moment before he answered. “Yes. I’d like a reservation at Asiago on Monday. Make sure you request Ricky as my server. Tell the manager I want no one else, and that Ricky is to serve only me. I don’t want him waiting on other tables while I’m there. Let her know we’ll pay for his time, so she won’t have to worry about that.” Then an idea came to Darwin. “And tell her I want corn dogs.”
“You want… I’m sorry, I think we may have a bad connection. Did you say you wanted corn dogs?”
“I did. And let them know I want corn dogs, cheese fries, and a raspberry nebula shake.”
“At Asiago? You know they’re not likely to have that, right?”
“Make sure you tell Louisa it’s for me, and she can find everything she needs at the mini-putts place on Klein Street. I’m sure she’ll make arrangements.” Darwin grinned. He wished he could see the snooty restaurant manager’s face when Heather relayed his orders. She should know better than to be rude to her staff. Especially Ricky, who’d been absolutely perfect as far as Darwin was concerned.
“And how many people shall I make the reservation for?”
“Just me, but I want enough food for two people.”
He thought he heard Henley whispering something in the background, but he chose to ignore his friend.
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”
“I know you will, Heather. And thank you. I really appreciate this.”
Her voice softened. “You know all of us are happy to do what you ask.”
It was true. Darwin’s parents had always treated their workers very well. They’d instituted the first employer sponsored, on premise daycare center in the state, leave was available after the birth of a child for both mothers and fathers, they received well above average salaries for their positions, and the turnover rate was practically nil.
“I know,” Darwin answered. And he did. He never took them for granted. Without his staff, he had no company to run. “Please send my regrets to my brother. If you can, reschedule him for early next week. Just not on Monday, okay?”
“Understood, sir. I hope your business goes well.”
He turned as Henley stepped out of the restaurant, two putters in his hand, and a wide smile on his face.
“I think it’s going to be a great night.”
Chapter Two
Ricky glanced at his watch again. The reservation had been made for seven thirty, and it had just turned eight. Perhaps Mr. Kincade had gotten tied up with something and couldn’t make it. When Louisa told him that he’d be working the private party, he had been stunned. Then when she tipped her glasses down and glared at him, reminding him that he should already be out the door, he lowered his head. He thought he’d been doing a good job, but it had become obvious he wasn’t Roy, and the staff had told him that the young man had been Louisa’s favorite.
“Where is he?” Louisa grumbled.
“I don’t know,” Ricky answered, then flinched when she glared at him.
“Whatever you did to get in his good graces, it won’t keep you on the payroll. You’ll mess up and he’ll complain, then you’ll be out the door.”
Sweat trickled down Ricky’s arms, tickling the fine hair there. If he had guts, he’d walk out and let her explain to Mr. Kincade why the waiter he’d requested wasn’t there. But school wasn’t cheap. He needed this job, and if it meant he had to take her abuse, then so be it.
“Louisa, Mr. Kincade just walked through the door,” the busboy whispered.
She turned and gave Ricky the death stare he’d seen a dozen times, before she rushed to greet Mr. Kincade.
“Thank you for coming,” she gushed as they approached Ricky’s station. She put her hand on his back, until Mr. Kincade turned to glare at her. She swept her hand toward Ricky. “Your private room is ready, as is your server.”
The man’s smile took Ricky’s breath away. The day he’d first seen the man seated in his station, Ricky had been so nervous he prayed he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. Even though that night started out bad, it quickly got better when Mr. Kincade relaxed enough to show he could be a little fun.
Of cour
se, that only lasted until he’d walked out the door. Then Louisa had been angrier than he’d ever seen her. She’d muttered something about snobs, then stormed into her office and slammed the door, much to the chagrin of the staff. Still, it felt good to know something could ruffle her feathers.
“My apologies for being late,” Mr. Kincade said. “I had something I had to attend to, and it couldn’t wait.”
“Nonsense,” Louisa purred. “We’re only too happy to hold a table for you.”
She escorted him to the room and pulled out his chair. When he glanced at Ricky and gave him a sly wink, Ricky’s pulse sped up.
“As you requested, Richard will be your server this evening. Should you require anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me. Oh, and we were able to accommodate your dinner request tonight as well.”
Her lip curled, and Ricky saw she’d been digging her nails into her palm to keep from snapping. When she’d told Ricky that Mr. Kincade had very special requests for the evening, he could barely contain his curiosity.
After Louisa walked out the door, Ricky stepped up to the table.
“Good evening, Mr. Kincade. How are you tonight?”
“Would it be out of line if I asked you to call me Darwin?”
Ricky scrunched his brow. “I’m…not sure Louisa would approve.”
“Oh, I’m very certain she doesn’t approve of many things. And, so you know, I really don’t care.”
Ricky couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out of him. Mr. Kincade—Darwin—had to be the only person he’d ever seen get the best of Louisa. He knew good and well she’d take it out on him after the meal, but for the moment, he intended to enjoy it.
“Very well, Mr.…Darwin, I’ve been told that you have a special order waiting in the kitchen. Are you ready to dine?”
Darwin chuckled and clapped his hands. “Oh, very much. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Ricky grinned. Darwin’s attitude seemed so different from the last time he’d been at the restaurant, his joy infectious. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
“I look forward to it,” Darwin replied, his cheeky expression growing into a bright smile.
When Ricky entered the kitchen, he noticed a scent he’d never encountered at Asiago before. The aroma tickled his nose and caused his stomach to growl.
“Donnelly,” Chef Michael called out, “get this…food out of my kitchen.”
Ricky approached the line to pick up the cloth-covered tray the food runner had put together for him, but when he went to remove it, the chef slammed a spoon down.
“Don’t lift that cover,” the chef snapped. “My instructions were very explicit. You’re to take the food to Mr. Kincade, but not to check it until you’re in the room with him.”
“But what if something’s wrong?” Ricky asked, then took a step back when the prickly chef glared at him.
“Are you saying something might be wrong with my food?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then what are you saying?” he demanded, leaning forward with his big, beefy hands splayed out on the counter. “Spit it out.”
Not wanting to confront the chef, Ricky looked down at the tray. “Louisa told me that everything for Mr. Kincade had to be perfect. She’s looking for an excuse to can me, so if I mess up, she’ll put me out.” He glanced up, hoping Michael would understand.
The chef’s expression softened a touch. “Ricky, if Louisa has a problem, she can come and talk to me. These were Mr. Kincade’s instructions, so she doesn’t have a pot to piss in.”
Despite Michael’s attitude, he never hesitated to stand up for his kitchen staff when Louisa stormed through on the warpath. If he gave his word that everything would be okay, Ricky believed him. He nodded at the chef, then hefted the tray up onto his shoulder, before he darted through the dining room, and up the stairs to the private suite where Mr. Kincade waited.
“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re back,” Mr. Kincade called out when he entered the room. “Have a seat.”
What?
“What? Mr. Kincade—” Ricky protested, as he put the tray down on the stand next to the table.
“Darwin,” Mr. Kincade reminded him, a sly grin playing on his lips.
“Darwin… I can’t sit down. If Louisa finds me—”
“Your entire service is devoted strictly to me tonight. Louisa is aware of this. So if I want you to sit, then she has nothing to say about it. Of course, if you’d prefer not to, I can understand.”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then sit.”
Ricky crossed his arms and glared at Darwin. “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”
Darwin nodded. “Of course. Sit down before the food gets cold.”
As Ricky pulled out the chair, Darwin moved over to the tray and removed the cloth. The metal clanged when he tipped the cover of the serving plates slightly, then he chuckled. “Perfect,” he said.
He turned around and pinned Ricky with a stare. “Okay, so I was very rude to you last week when I was here, right?”
“I don’t know that I’d say you were rude…” Ricky started, then trailed off, somewhat embarrassed at being reminded about his own behavior that day. But it had been so much fun to play with Darwin, who’d loosened up when he finally calmed down about Roy leaving.
“What was the word you used? Oh, yes, antagonistic. And I was. It had been one surprise after another, and if there is one thing I can’t abide, it’s being surprised. I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair. So I want to take this opportunity to make it up to you.”
“That’s really not—”
Darwin placed two plates on the table in front of Ricky, then turned and picked up two cups that he added to the settings. Ricky stared at the table, then up at Darwin.
“What’s—”
“And you said the chef wouldn’t make corn dogs. Shows how much you know.”
“You’ve got this really bad habit of interrupting, you know that?” Ricky said with a frown.
Darwin gave the most infuriating smirk. “Sorry. When I’m in a meeting, it’s usually necessary for me to speak up in order to be heard over the noise. I’ll try not to make a habit of it.”
The grin told him Darwin really wasn’t sorry, and Ricky didn’t care. It added another dimension to the man’s idiosyncrasies. He wanted to say something, but then he looked at the plates again.
“Wait. This isn’t something he cooked. This is from the mini-putts place, right?”
Darwin shrugged. “They brought the stuff from there, but made them here in the kitchen. I believe the chef said he’d cook them over his dead body. I’m sorry for your loss,” Darwin said with a wink.
The snort came out before Ricky could rein it in. “I take it you liked them?”
Darwin took a seat across from Ricky and smiled. “I did. Thank you for suggesting it. My friend Henley said we needed the shakes, too.”
“I…thank you. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. You should be antagonistic more often.”
The warm, rich laugh Ricky received wrapped around him like a caress. For a minute, he forgot why they were there. He picked up his first corn dog and dipped it in the cheese sauce that the chef had served with it. He closed his eyes and moaned slightly.
“Oh, that’s so good. I’ve missed these.”
Darwin cocked his head. “Why?”
“Oh, um…I’m budgeting my money so I can pay off my school loans before I die.” He laughed, and took another bite. “Damn, those are good,” he said with a sigh and closed his eyes as he chewed.
He couldn’t believe Darwin had done this. Ricky hadn’t been able to afford his favorite food for a while, and he wanted to relish it. He opened his eyes to Darwin staring at him, a smirk plastered on his face.
“What? Did I drip cheese sauce on me or something?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just like the fact you’re enjoying the food.”
&
nbsp; Feeling his cheeks heat, Ricky dropped his gaze to his plate and muttered, “Sorry.”
“Why? I thought it was nice.”
In an effort to keep from embarrassing himself further, Ricky reached out for his shake cup, and, of course, knocked it over. The light purple liquid oozed out onto the table and began moving toward the edge.
“Oh, damn. I’m sorry, I… Shit. Let me get something to clean it up.”
Ricky ran to the side station and grabbed some serving towels, which he used to try to mop up the mess. When Darwin reached out an arm and dropped it onto the table to impede the flow, Ricky cringed. He didn’t know clothes, but with the way Darwin’s black suit hugged his physique, it had to have been tailor-made for him.
“Don’t. You’ll ruin your suit.”
Darwin shrugged. “I have another.”
Ricky mopped up the mess as best he could, creating a pile of cloths that were soaked with the remnants of his shake. There’d be no hiding this, not that he would. He believed in taking responsibility when he’d been wrong, and this one would be a doozy.
“Ah, well,” he said on a sigh, “it wasn’t the most glamorous job in the world. I guess I’ll have to see if I can find something else.”
“What? Why?”
***
The liquid absorbed by Darwin’s sleeve had soaked through to his skin and chilled his arm, but that didn’t seem as important as the look on Ricky’s face. Darwin hadn’t kept the position he had inherited without having ample business acumen. He watched people, read their body language, knew when they handed him a line. Ricky’s expression spoke of disappointment tinged with sadness, but also of sincerity.
“I’m not Louisa’s favorite,” he explained as he removed the soiled linen from the table and put it onto the empty serving tray. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but what the hell. It’s not like it will matter in an hour anyway. Not long after I took Roy’s position, she started to take great joy in letting me know every single thing I did wrong. He wiped up more of the shake, then glanced over to meet Darwin’s gaze. “My first day of training, she hovered constantly, and let me know whenever I put a salad fork a millimeter out of place. Don’t get me wrong, I do understand. Asiago has a reputation, and as the manager, she needs to maintain certain standards, but sometimes I think she just hates me.”
Of Love and Corn Dogs Page 2
