Chapter Six
WHEN I ARRIVE early at the restaurant on Thursday night, Ren is out making his rounds with customers.
I gesture to an empty table and ask the hostess, “Can I sit here and wait for Mr. Chambers? I love the atmosphere.” Secretly, I want to watch Ren. I don’t say that, though.
The hostess puts on her best smile. “Of course. Mr. Chambers is expecting you.”
A waiter approaches. “May I get you anything?”
I don’t want to be too full before the taste testing. “Just a waiter with lemon.” I clear my throat. “I meant a water with lemon, please.” Nerves are new to me. I don’t like them. At all.
Tonight Ren is wearing light-gray slim-fitting slacks and a dark-gray button-up, open at the neck.
No blazer and no tie. He’s as classy as his restaurant, like it’s an extension of him.
He moves from table to table with a slight swagger in his step.
He’s smooth, no doubt about it. Consistently, the guests at the table he’s visiting erupt in loud laughter. That’s my favorite thing of all.
When he notices me sitting there watching him, he does a double take, and immediately walks toward me.
Me.
I feel like the most important woman in the world.
His face breaks out in a smile. When he reaches my table, he offers his hand and helps me stand, something I’ve been doing by myself my whole life. I don’t want to do it on my own ever again.
“Shall we?” he asks.
And I think oh yes, we shall. Be friends, I mean.
Ren leads me to a nook just off the kitchen, and we sit at a dining set that’s nicer than my dining table at home. A break area of sorts, I assume.
The small plates of amazing start to arrive almost right away.
The chef leaves us alone to make our judgments without him breathing down our necks.
First, we have roasted pork tenderloin artfully surrounded by sliced carrots and brussels sprouts.
Then Bolognese stuffed bell peppers. Next we enjoy steak bundles filled with grilled asparagus.
The servings are small, but they’re so delicious, I eat every morsel.
There’s still more to come. I’m not sure I can eat another bite.
When the next plate arrives, I stare at the bacon-wrapped seared salmon sitting in front of me.
Underneath it sits a colorful array of stir-fried vegetables in some sort of aromatic sauce.
Carefully placed on top is a small handful of greens, making a tower of yum. The presentation alone is amazing.
“This is a work of art. I feel guilty ruining it, but I want to eat it.”
Ren smiles, then receives his sixth text of the night. He practically jumps when each one arrives and hurries to check his messages.
I’m feeling concerned. “Is there some sort of fire you’re putting out?”
He’s at work right now, so I assume there’s an issue at home. He puts his phone away and concentrates on me. “Sorry. Nothing to worry about.”
Okay. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want to talk about it.
“What do you think? Which one was your favorite?” Ren asks.
“All of them. How do you choose?”
“It’s not easy.”
“I can’t believe you get to do this week after week. It’s a sin to say you’re working right now.”
He flashes me a wicked grin. “Life’s rough.”
We smile at each other, but my smile fades as I look down at the table. This is the fourth time I’ve seen Ren, and we’ll see each other again on Saturday. It feels a lot like a dating whirlwind. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.
The thing is, he doesn’t attempt to move our relationship into the physical realm. I suppose that’s the clue that tells me he means what he says. Perhaps it’s why I feel so comfortable around him.
I hadn’t thought of it that way until now.
My rebound emotions make me want to pull him inside a dark closet and kiss him like crazy. Other moments, I’m reminded that I hardly know him.
“Bree, there’s something I’d like to say to you,” Ren begins.
Whoa. I sit back in my chair, my thoughts abruptly turning to the present moment. “When a discussion starts with that kind of intro, it’s never good.” I fold my arms across my chest. I’m sure it comes off as a defensive move.
It is.
Ren holds up his hands. “It’s not what you think.”
“Hey, I know we’re just friends. There’s no need to explain yourself.” I also know the possibility for more is hanging in the air around us. It’s simply on the back burner for now. I know he’s keeping it that way for me, out of respect for what I’ve been through recently.
He splays his hands. “What if I need to tell you that I’m really a clown in the circus, and this is just my night job?”
After two beats of silence, I lose my cool, lower my head, and laugh a little uncontrollably. Very unlike me. Every now and again, I have a hard time being serious with him.
“I hate clowns. They’re creepy as heck. If that’s true, our friendship is over.” Of course, he was kidding. “What did you want to say to me?” It can’t be what I assumed since he’s goofing around.
“I want to talk about you.”
Every part of me fills with tension. “What about me?”
“I think there’s something you need to do. You’re not ready for a new relationship of any kind.”
“I know. But I want to be. That’s why I’m here.” If he knew where my thoughts go whenever I’m around him, he’d be scandalized.
“I get that. But I think you need some closure before you can move on.”
“Closure? I sort of hate that word. What does it really mean?”
“That you’re at peace with the past.”
“Can that ever really happen?”
He shrugs. “Maybe not. But you do need to forgive yourself and let it go.”
I try and fail to cover up my wild emotions. I shift uncomfortably. I like Ren, and I don’t want this—whatever this is—to end. I have a feeling, though, that he’s about to say something I won’t like. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“I think you should visit Quinn. Make your peace, renew your friendship. It might not be what it once was. In fact, it’ll probably be different.
Who knows, maybe it’ll be better than before.
At least it won’t hang over you anymore.
I think it’s something you need to do before you can embrace your new life. ”
My first thought is to deny everything he’s saying. Maybe tell him a thing or two about minding his own business.
But I don’t.
“I know you’re right. It would be good for me.” Heat climbs up my face at the thought. Seeing Quinn will dredge up so many feelings, ones I’m finally putting to bed. To reexamine them will be tough.
He exhales deeply. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”
That voice. It’s like the soundwaves are gliding over my skin. A chill wanders up and down my spine. “Were you nervous?”
“Sure was. Thought you might tell me to go where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“The thought crossed my mind.” But I’m trying to be a better person, one who stays in control of her emotions. “I’ll think about it, okay, Ren? I know it’s something I need to do. But that’s all I can promise for now.” It suddenly feels hard to swallow.
“Good enough,” he says with a nod.
The chef comes to check on us, awaiting our decision. We both agree the steak bundles and the bacon-wrapped seared salmon should be the specials for next week.
I study Ren as he speaks with his chef about a few other matters of business. I love his low tone of voice and his manners. He’s the boss. He could be shouting, telling everyone what to do. But that’s not how he operates.
What does he really want from me? Is he waiting to move our relationship forward until I’m ready?
Even though it feels wrong to admit it, I think I’ve been ready since the moment I met him.
I was born ready for Ren Chambers. I think he’s the one.
I slam the brakes on my thoughts. You know what they say about slow and steady?
It always wins the race.
And this time around, I intend to be a winner.