She chuckled, paused in her work, and said, “That we should stop messing around and admit what we’re feeling.”
With a dip of his head, he stepped closer and said, “What do you think we should do?”
She grabbed a towel to clean off her hands, then reached up and cradled his jaw. Ran her finger across his lips that way that she always did. A gesture that made his gut tighten and his heart skip a beat. “I think we already stopped messing around, don’t you?”
“Sí, we did. I’m glad I told you how I feel.”
“But that doesn’t make things easier, does it? Once we’re done here tomorrow –”
“I am going back to New York in a few days, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stay there,” he finally admitted, though he was quick to add, “But it may take time.” He didn’t want to give her unrealistic expectations.
Her gaze shimmered with tears he hated putting there. “I told you I wasn’t patient, but for you I can wait.”
Tony nodded and smiled, joy spreading through him. He leaned close and brushed a kiss across her cheek. “Gracias. I promise I’ll try. Hard. You’re important to me.”
Always the chef, Sara stepped away and said, “Things seem to be going well.”
He tracked her gaze and couldn’t disagree. Grateful for that, he said, “I was hoping to get away early since Javi is home. Do you think that’s possible?”
She nodded. “Jeri and I can keep an eye on the preparations. The most time-consuming thing to get done tonight is the ropa vieja for the tamales.”
With a quick nod, he grabbed an apron, and slipped it on. “I’ll get them working on the sofrito for the sauce.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks. I asked Matt to trim the brisket to help us out, but I’ll get it boiling so that Jeri and my crew can shred it once it’s tender and cooled.”
“Perfect. Have they done the jelly for the flans yet?”
With a shake of her head, she said, “If you could get my pastry chef working on that it would be great.”
He walked over to the hotel crew to get the line chefs working on the sofrito and other items they’d need for the ropa vieja sauce.
Once they were cooking and preparing the items, he tracked down Sara’s pastry chef and helped her with the strawberries for the jelly. She was eager to learn, her process efficient, surprising him with her abilities since he knew she was one of Sara’s trainees. Her skills mimicked someone who’d attended culinary school. Sara had clearly taught her well. When the pastry chef was well on her way with the task, he strolled around the kitchen to see what was happening. Satisfied that everyone was working efficiently, he tracked down Sara.
She was taste-testing one of the batches of citrus juices for the marinade. She smiled and nodded at the chef. “That’s the right mix of sweet and sour. You’ve got the proportions for the rest of the spices, right?”
“Yes, chef,” the young man said.
“Great. Once it’s all mixed, it’s time to add the pork shoulders and get them in the walk-in fridge until tomorrow morning,” she said and wiped her hands clean with a towel.
When the chef walked away with the storage pail filled with the juices, she shot a quick look around the kitchen to see how things were going. With a smile, she said, “Looks like everything is going smoothly.”
He placed his hands on his hips. “It is. Hopefully tomorrow will be the same.”
“Hopefully, but somehow I doubt it,” she said with a chuckle.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to sneak away now to go to Sylvia’s. I can come back later to help finish the ropa vieja.”
Sara brushed back a bang of reddish-brown hair that had fallen into her eyes. She scanned the kitchen again and said, “There’s no need for you to come back. I think we’ve got this under control.”
As she’d turned, he had noticed a smudge of flour on her cheek. He reached out, skimmed his fingers across the flour. A zing of awareness that only Sara seemed to create flowed through him. And her, he realized. Her eyes widened and darkened. Her breath hitched and while common sense told him to pull back, he double downed and cupped her cheek.
“I want to come back. I want to see more of you,” he said.
She licked her lips and bit the bottom one, worrying it with her teeth, but then she nodded. “That would be nice. I want to see more of you, too.”
“Good. I’ll see you later then.”
Chapter 27
Angelica didn’t know what to make of her Tio Javi and apparently neither did Samantha, who had come over to help Angelica put the finishing touches on the favors for tomorrow’s quinceañera. Earlier in the week Angelica had assisted Samantha with her bundles of chocolate cigars.
“He’s a billionaire?” Samantha whispered dubiously and tucked a packet of orange-flavored candies into a cellophane bag. The candies would be nestled against the fresh fruits and flowers that were Angelica’s centerpieces.
“He just sold his start-up to one of the Big Tech companies,” Angelica whispered back. When Samantha handed her the bag, she checked to make sure it had all the contents. Orange candies, a mojito mix packet, and chocolates had replaced her earlier idea for the favors. Still Miami flavors, but much more guest friendly.
Samantha had been peering at Tio Javi as she worked, puzzling Angelica.
“Sam,” she said, drawing her friend’s attention. “What’s up?”
“He’s kind of nerdy, but he seems nice. I think Aunt Bridget likes him,” her friend said.
She did a double take between Samantha, her uncle, and Sam’s aunt Bridget, who had come over to help with some of the final chores. As she took the time to really observe the interaction between them, she could kind of see what Sam was talking about. Her uncle had that cool-nerd look with his slightly crooked horn-rimmed glasses, thick finger-tousled hair, and lean muscular body. His shirt and khakis were wrinkled, as if he’d just gotten off the plane even though he’d been home for hours. It made you want to go over and get him straightened up which Bridget did at one point, smoothing the fabric of his shirt across his shoulders—earning an intense look and smile from her uncle.
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug, not really sure about how well Javi and Bridget knew each other and if she was misreading the situation.
A second later Tio Tony rushed into the room and hugged her abuelos, mom, and Bridget. He clapped his brother on the back before giving him a bro-hug. She waited, hoping he’d brought Sara with him, but he was alone.
“Fail,” she said to Samantha.
“Epic. I hoped he’d bring Aunt Sara.”
“Me too,” Angelica whispered back. “What can we do?”
She’d heard her mother say more than once that you could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t make him drink. She’d never really understood where a saying like that came from but recently, she was starting to understand it better. It seemed like no matter what they did to get Sara and Tony together, it just didn’t seem to be working.
But she wasn’t going to give up.
“Guilt trip,” she said.
“What?” Samantha said, puzzled.
“You know the routine. We’ve gotten it often enough from our mamis. We make Tio Tony feel guilty that he’s here instead of helping your aunt Sara.”
Samantha looked from Angelica to the group of adults gathered across the room at the kitchen table. “I don’t know, Angelica. Maybe it’s just not meant to happen.”
“I guess I’m a romantic.”
“A drama queen,” Samantha said with a laugh, but then shook her head. “I think Aunt Sara really likes Tony.”
“Like, like or more?” Angelica asked as she filled one of the favor bags.
“More,” Samantha confirmed with a nod.
Angelica finished tying a ribbon around the cellophane to seal it and held her hand up for a fist bu
mp. “Then let’s do this,” she said.
Samantha hesitated, but then fist bumped her. “Let’s do this.”
Sara stretched to ease the ache in her back. It seemed as if she’d been working for days instead of only hours to prep everything they needed for tomorrow’s big event. The pace and quantities had been far different from how they labored at the restaurant and far more tiring. Especially once Jeri and her staff had left to go back to Munch to work the dinner service. Tomorrow they would close the restaurant for the night so that everyone could work the quinceañera party. It would be a hit to her bottom line for the month, but it would be totally worth it to not only help out her brother’s family and her sister Bridget, but also reap the benefit of the South Beach Style piece—and also the national segment they’d just learned would air about the event. She hoped that “the competition” that the magazine had stirred up was long dead now that she and Tony were working together. She also hoped that the focus would be on the girls, the quinceañera, and the wonderful thing the families were doing by donating some of the money they’d saved to Bridget’s non-profit group.
Determined that everything would be perfect, she walked over to take a last taste of the ropa vieja before it would be chilled so they could work it into the tamales tomorrow. The beef was succulent and had absorbed the rich flavors from the tomato sauce spiced with the sofrito and the finishing touches of roasted peppers and peas.
In the walk-in fridge she examined the assorted flans nestled in their ramekins. For the dessert service tomorrow, they’d flip them over so that the caramel would bathe the flans with that sweetness. Satisfied that everything was in order, she exited into the kitchen, intending to head back to Munch to help with the last few hours of the dinner service.
But as she exited the fridge, she realized Tony had returned to the hotel kitchen.
She walked over, removing her apron as she did so. She ran a hand through her short locks to hopefully put them in some semblance of order, suddenly self-conscious.
“It’s late. I didn’t think you were coming back,” she asked, puzzled, but happy to see him.
“I wasn’t given much of a choice. Your niece and mine are experts at laying on a guilt trip. They didn’t realize that they didn’t need to work so hard—I wanted to come back and be with you,” Tony said with a shrug. “But I see that you’re all done.”
“We are. I was just heading back to Munch,” she said and gestured to the exit.
“May I walk you there?” he asked
“That would be nice.”
Nice. What a lame word for how she felt whenever she was with him. He brought so many other emotions with his presence and she would miss them all once he’d gone. But she wanted to experience them as much as she could before then.
He smiled and placed his hand at the small of her back, the touch possessive. She knew he’d find a way for them to be together.
They walked out of the kitchen into a service corridor and finally out to the hotel lobby where an assortment of guests filled the space. Tony kept his hand at her back as they walked, and the touch was a reminder of his promise.
The hotel, a combination of a renovated Art Deco hotel from 1939 and a new tower that had been constructed in the mid-90s, was only a couple of blocks away from Lincoln Road and her restaurant on Collins. It made for a short walk, mostly conducted in silence, until they reached the door to Munch.
Tony stood by her at the edge of the crowded al fresco dining area, smoothing his hands down the fabric of his pants. He rocked back and forth on his heels and said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t more of a help tonight.”
She shrugged. “You had good news to celebrate and we were able to handle it.”
He pursed his lips and dipped his head. “Thanks. Javi’s really excited about his news. He’s also excited because he’s decided to come back to Miami.”
Sara opened her eyes wide, surprised. Javi had left Miami years before Tony and had spent even less time there during the last decade. That Javi was coming back brought renewed hope about Tony’s promise. “That’s a shock. We all thought he was gone for good.”
Tony expelled a rough breath. “You and me both. Maybe he got tired of the L.A. traffic and pressure and decided to exchange it for a more laid-back life in Miami.”
“Maybe,” she said, thinking that the Sanchez brothers had a history of leaving brokenhearted Kelly women behind. Her sister Bridget had confessed to her years earlier that she and Javi had had a thing, but then he’d left her to go work on the West Coast.
“Why do I think there’s something you’re not saying?” Tony asked, his brow furrowed as he examined her.
“Maybe because there is,” she said, but Javi and Bridget’s story was their own and not for her to share. She pushed up on tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his cheek as she said, “I’m just glad you came home and that you’re planning to come back when you can.”
He smiled, laid a hand on her waist, and kept her from leaving. “I’m glad too. See you tomorrow?”
She nodded and grinned. “For sure. I can’t wait to work together.” It would mean the world to her to be at his side in the kitchen tomorrow.
“Me too,” he said and dropped his hand away to let her go.
She hurried into the restaurant, but as she risked a look back at him, she caught him smiling and couldn’t tamp down the hope that continued to build in her heart.
Tony lay in bed, staring up at cracks in the ceiling of his old bedroom. Across the room the metal of the window air conditioner rattled and clanged like an offbeat conga band. The unit emitted a barely cold wisp of air into the room and across his body which was why he was lying in shorts on top of his sheets, praying for some relief.
A familiar knock came on the wall by his bed. Javi. It had always been their signal as kids so they could sneak into each other’s rooms to talk or play video games. Smiling, he tapped back on the wall and within seconds Javi scurried into the room.
Tony popped himself up in bed, leaving room for Javi to join him as he had so often when they were younger. Like him, Javi was only in shorts to combat the Miami heat and humidity. His brother leaned against the wall and stretched his legs out in front of him.
With a sigh Javi said, “First thing I’ll do with the money is buy mami and papi one of those new AC systems.”
Tony laughed because he had been thinking about the same thing. “I’d chip in, but I don’t think you need the money.”
Javi shook his head in disbelief. “I never imagined anything like this. I mean, I’d hoped to be successful, but this....”
“You should be really proud, Javi. You worked hard for it,” Tony said. “You’re actually coming home?”
Javi tilted his head and focused on Tony’s face in the dim light in the room. The only illumination came from the streetlight glow that eked in through a far window. “I am. Esteban is going to look for a place and Sylvia will do the closing for me.”
“Something nice and over-the-top on Star Island?” Tony teased. His brother could now afford the multi-million-dollar mansions they’d imagined owning when they were kids.
His brother shook his head. “No way. Nice and family friendly is what I want.”
“Whoa, family friendly? Are you holding back, mano?” That was the last thing he’d expected to hear from his commitment-phobic brother.
Javi held his hands up to forestall more questions. “There’s no one special right now, but who knows? I plan on taking a few months off to relax. Get reacquainted with old friends and family.”
“And after that?” He imagined that someone like his brother might be bored after only a few days with nothing to do.
With a shrug, Javi said, “I have an idea for something new and I was thinking of maybe starting a non-profit.”
Which brought to mind a very special woman. “Like what Bridget is doing?”<
br />
Another shrug. “Bridget seems to be doing a lot of good with her organization, but don’t go there, hermanito. Like I said before, water under the bridge.”
Tony detected an emotion beneath his brother’s words that hinted otherwise, but he left it alone. “Whatever you say, Javi. I’m just glad you’re home,” Tony said, leaning forward and tapping his brother on the arm.
Javi laughed and jabbed him right back. “What about you, hermanito? Sylvia says you’re thinking about a second restaurant right here in Miami?”
“Maybe. It depends on a lot of things,” he said, unwilling to say more. There was so much for him to do before he could come home. So much at stake given his feelings for Sara. He’d never felt like that about any woman and doubted he’d ever find anyone else who made him feel like Sara made him feel.
“If you need an angel investor, I’m your guy,” Javi said and hopped off the bed.
“I appreciate the support, hermano. I’ll let you know.” Once Javi had gone he sank back onto the bed, pillowed his head in his hands, and stared back up at the ceiling. Get some rest, tomorrow will be a long day, he told himself, but it was tough to fall asleep as so many thoughts raced through his brain.
Tomorrow’s menu. Sara. The reporters who’d be there. Sara. Javi’s generous offer. Sara. Sara. Sara, he thought with a smile, conjuring images of her to warm his soul and lighten his spirit. It was so much better working with her than working against her in some trumped-up competition. It was too easy to picture collaborating more in the future, maybe even in their own restaurant. Armed with those thoughts, he finally drifted off to dreams filled with optimism.
Chapter 28
Sara surveyed the kitchen as the combined staffs of her people and the hotel chefs worked side-by-side to plate the various hors d’oeuvres. She caught sight of Tony working with one of the line chefs on the avocados and lemons for the salad service. He had a smile on his face and clapped the man on the back as they finished the task, his stance easy-going. Quite a difference from what he’d told her about how he’d been in his own kitchen just a short month ago. It warmed her heart that his time in Miami – with her – had worked such a change on him.
South Beach Love Page 23
