22. Kelsey
“Oskar,honey, I really think you’re being too sensitive about this.”
“Are you saying I’m overreacting?”
“It’s just… I know why you’re upset, but you have to understand it’s a really common problem. It happens all the time.”
“Not to me it doesn’t.”
“You just shouldn’t feel inadequate in any way.”
“I don’t.”
“Because you’re not.”
“Fuck.”
“Seriously, this has never happened before?”
“What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything.”
We sat in silence for a while longer.
“I bet you’re thinking that this wouldn’t even be a problem if Felipe were here.”
Kelsey’s jaw dropped. “Now what is that supposed to mean?”
I muttered, “Nothing.”
“Oh no, buster. You don’t get away with saying something like that without an explanation.”
“Buster?” I cocked my eyebrow at her. Since when did that become a nickname?
I sat sulking at the table, staring at the distinctly runny eggs on Kelsey’s plate. I had no idea what was going on. By all logic, those eggs should have been a perfect medium-hard poach. It was like the universe was conspiring against me cooking her eggs the way she liked them. It irked me that Felipe seemed to get it right and I—the internationally trained chef—could not.
She sat across from me, her face outraged at the perceived insult. The problem was, I had a hard time taking her seriously when she was pissed off. Her lips got all pouty and her face got flushed. She always seemed to stick out her chest a little more. If she crossed her arms under her chest, the effect was especially nice.
Come to think of it, pissed-off Kelsey and turned-on Kelsey were sort of similar-looking.
I smiled at the thought, and that just pissed her off even more.
“Oskar Olson. I want you to explain how I have belittled your cooking skills. I told you that I didn’t mind and that my breakfast tasted great. You’re the one acting like a little boy about the whole thing.”
“Kelsey?”
She spat out, “What?”
“Come sit on my lap. I want to kiss you.”
She crossed her arms under her chest. Score.
“I don’t think so. We’re fighting here.”
“Do you even remember what we’re fighting about?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion for a second before she shouted, “Eggs!”
I raised an eyebrow at her, waiting silently for the realization to dawn.
Her face fell then, and a small smile flirted around her mouth. “We’re fighting about eggs?”
“We were fighting about eggs.”
“That’s pretty stupid.”
I nodded. “Yes, it is.”
She walked over to me and sat on my lap while I took the delicious opportunity to kiss her. When she’d shown up early at the restaurant the previous night, I felt like I had been saved from drowning. I had been going crazy all week, waiting for her to get here, antsy and needy to the point where I was snapping at anyone and everyone who got in my way. As soon as she showed up, calm settled over me.
Well, after one seriously hot fuck.
After we cleaned up in the shower, we lay in bed talking for hours. It was very much like what we talked about on the phone but with the added benefit of snuggling.
I’d never considered myself an affectionate person, but when deprived of Kelsey’s physical presence for days and weeks on end, I’d come to appreciate little things like an arm around my waist or a quick peck on the cheek.
The ability to look into her face while she talked, memorizing the play of emotion across her face when she laughed or shared her frustrations… I’d never take that for granted again.
She lifted her head from my shoulder and looked at the eggs. “You’re the one who was overreacting.”
“Just please tell me that Felipe didn’t get it right for a while.”
She didn’t say anything.
“God damn it. The first time?” What was I doing wrong?
“Not exactly right.” She refused to meet my eyes. “And you’re a way better kisser.”
“At least I have something going for me. Wait, you kissed Felipe?”
She looked at me with a small smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. “Only on a dare. No one kisses me like you.”
I swung her leg over mine and leaned in to grab her ass and pull her to me. “Damn right.”
I walkedto the restaurant early on Thursday afternoon, hoping to catch Victor. Kelsey was doing some research online, gleefully taking advantage of my excellent Wi-Fi.
I took deep breaths as I walked, enjoying the crisp fall air and the afternoon sun.
Kelsey and I were going to the farmers’ market in San Luis Obispo that night. We were planning on meeting Kurt and Talia. Probably Josh as well. That meant I would be leaving Victor alone in the kitchen for an entire dinner service for the first night since his fuckup.
To his credit, he’d been busting his ass for the past couple of weeks, doing everything I asked and volunteering for all the crap jobs that no one else wanted to do. The kitchen had never been cleaner, and he had gone a long way toward restoring my trust. It was probably a good time to let him take a dinner again, plus I’d be close if anything went really wrong.
I was apprehensive about it though. Even being twenty minutes away made me nervous, but I was trying to let go, and I really wanted Kelsey and me to have one normal evening together while she was here.
Kelsey was flexible when it came to my work hours, but I didn’t want to take advantage of that. Growing up in farming and ranching probably helped because neither of those was a nine-to-five business.
I craved her time. I’d never been in love with anyone before, and there was no way I could have anticipated how difficult it would be to be physically separated from her. It was so much worse than I’d thought it was going to be.
And I still didn’t know how she felt about me. There were times when she would say something that made me think she loved me, but I also felt her holding back.
When I got to the restaurant, Victor was already there, prepping for the evening.
“Hey, Chef.” Victor glanced up from chopping onions. “How are you today? You’re looking a little better rested.”
I smacked the back of his head as I walked to my office. “Unless you want me calling every ten minutes tonight, I suggest you shut up and tell me again why I’m trusting you with my kitchen, smart-ass.”
“Because Chef, if I ever lie to you again or don’t tell you when I don’t know how to do something, you’ll kill me and hide the body at Josh’s ranch, then tell everyone I ran off to cook for a hippie commune in Montana.”
I nodded in satisfaction. “That’s right.”
Victor smiled crookedly. “I won’t let you down, Chef.”
“Good. I’m going to make some calls in my office. Is Leslie coming in to help you out later?”
“Yep. She’s getting pretty good with the basic stuff, so she’s a pretty big help.”
“Good. Let me know if there are any problems.”
I shut myself in my office for about an hour, making calls and sending in orders.
Paying bills.
More bills.
And more bills.
I had another email in my inbox from Asshole Austin, asking for more charity suggestions. I ignored it for now. I would have to do a little more research on ridiculous charities when Kelsey was out of town. Maybe Josh had some ideas.
I was impressed by Austin’s devotion if not his common sense.
Of course, there was no telling what lengths I might go to if Kelsey decided she’d had enough of me, so I could hardly blame him.
I decided that my efforts were better spent making sure that didn’t happen at all. A lot of this might be easier if Kelsey would decide to move back south, but I didn’t get a say in that.
I tried not to imagine what life would be like if Kelsey moved south.
Josh wasn’t lying when he said I had imagined marrying her. Of course I had. You don’t fall in love with someone without it crossing your mind.
I imagined the life we could have together, me building the restaurant and her writing all about the growing culinary world on the coast. She would still travel, but we would always come home to each other.
Maybe I could write a cookbook with her. I had customers ask me all the time if I was going to write one. I might consider it if she could help.
I imagined holidays and weekends spent with our family and friends. Parties at Josh’s house and barbecues at the beach with Talia and Kurt. We could take weekends to visit Hanna and Felipe in Marin County.
I found myself staring at my computer screen after a while, mentally planning out a life that Kelsey was completely unaware of. I shook myself. I was wasting time at the restaurant when I had her waiting at my house.
Idiot.
I shut down my computer and grabbed my jacket. I walked out to the kitchen to see Victor and Leslie preparing some of the cauliflower we’d just gotten in for a roasted winter vegetable dish that included brussels sprouts and carrots.
“All set?” I looked at my two chefs. They were young but smart, and their bright shiny faces gave me a surge of satisfaction. They were learning from me and from each other. “Any last questions before I take off?”
“I think we’re good here, Chef.” Victor looked at Leslie, who nodded. “I have your phone number, and I promise to call if I have any questions or concerns.”
“No stupid questions, Chef. If you’re not sure, call.”
“Yes, Chef,” they said in chorus.
Leslie added, “Have a nice night.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you later.” I paused when I reached to back door. “I might stop by later.”
Victor nodded and started breaking apart the cauliflower. “Sure thing, Chef. Have a good night.”
I grunted something noncommittal as I made my way outside. I gave the restaurant one last look before I walked home, focusing on the fact that Kelsey was there instead of on my nerves about leaving the kitchen tonight.
Despite Kelsey’sand my best and repeated efforts at relaxation, I was still tapping my fingers restlessly as we drove up the 101 to San Luis later that evening. Instead of being present with Kelsey and enjoying my girlfriend’s company, I was mentally rehearsing what would be going on at the restaurant every passing moment.
5:00 p.m. The kitchen was finished with prep. Servers were showing up and getting their stations ready. Sophie would be handing out instructions and informing them about specials.
I tried to concentrate as Kelsey told me about the changes they were making to the online edition of the Journal. I hummed and nodded.
5:15 p.m. Victor would be finishing up the evening’s soup and the last of the prep.
Kelsey was saying something about meeting a friend of hers while she was having lunch with Hanna. I nodded silently.
5:20 p.m. Sophie?—
“Oskar Olson, we’re gonna turn around and go home if you’re going to be like this.”
I turned to look at her. “What?”
“I know you’re nervous about the restaurant, but if I’m going to be talking to a brick wall all night, I’d rather go back to your house and work.”
“Come on,” I muttered. “Don’t overreact.”
That must have been the wrong thing to say because she got really still, and I saw her face start to get flushed.
Shit.
Her voice was quiet. “Pull over please.”
“You planning to walk home or something?” I shook my head. “I’m not pulling over.”
She said, “Pull over. I’ll call Talia, and you can go back.”
“I’m not pulling over!”
“Pull the car over!”
“Fine!” I pulled to the side of the road and watched her grab her purse and open the door as cars whipped past us.
“Are you serious right now?” I shut off the engine and followed her. She was pulling out her phone when I grabbed her arm. “Kelsey!”
“Don’t.” She pulled her arm away. “Just turn around and go back.” She raised her hands. “Just go. I’ll call someone. I don’t… I know you’re nervous, and I don’t want to ruin the weekend, so just?—”
“Don’t call Talia.”
She started dialing.
“I’m sorry I’m distracted! I’m fucking nervous about leaving the restaurant, and I can’t help it.”
“No. You can’t help your feelings, but you can control the way you react to them, and I am not…” She shook her head. “I’m not doing this.”
“Doing what?” I stepped toward her. “What’s the big deal?”
We were both pissed off, but I didn’t want her calling her friends and leaving me alone on the side of the road.
I tried to tamp down my frustration. “Will you get back in the car so we’re not making a scene on the side of the road?”
When she answered, there were angry tears in her eyes. I felt a gust of wind as a truck barreled past us on the highway.
“I’m sorry you’re nervous, but that’s not my fault. I came here so we could spend some time together. I crammed a bunch of writing for weeks. I’ve been writing all night to make deadlines so I could come down here, and now I am here and I feel like I’m nothing but a distraction.”
“Not true.” I shook my head. “I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t really want to be here—you want to be back at the restaurant.” She pointed at the car. “So go. You need to go? Go. I’ll call Talia and Kurt.”
“I took off tonight so we could spend time together.” I growled in frustration. “Will you just get back in the car? We only have three days together and?—”
“I’m sorry I don’t live here anymore! I would love to be here all the time so we could have a more normal relationship, but I can’t help that I live so far away.”
I snapped, “Actually, you can help it, but you’re too stubborn to see how much you really want to move back!”