Chapter 35 – Roman
ROMAN
“Chef, one of the patrons at the bachelor party pinched the waitress’s ass after they all got belligerent with her when she cut them off from ordering more alcohol.
They also ordered two tomahawk steaks, ate them, and complained that they weren’t cooked right so they shouldn’t have to pay for them. What do you want me to do?”
I glance up from the plate I’m finishing to take in Eliza, my manager.
It’s been like this all fucking day. One thing after another.
My motorcycle had a flat this morning. Then a woman came up to me in my local coffee shop and all but attacked me.
She hugged and kissed me before I was able to pry her away.
It was the most ridiculous thing ever, and in the process of her doing this, she spilled not only her coffee on me but mine—thankfully, I didn’t get burned.
The owner of the shop had to kick her out. I’ve never had that happen before.
On top of that insanity, the restaurant at the resort in Mexico is set to open in two weeks, and there was a problem with the flooring, so now everything might have to be pushed back. And now this fucking bachelor party.
Grown-ass men acting like drunken babies.
“I’ll handle it,” I tell her, and her eyes round because most of the time, I stay back here in the kitchen and rarely go out front.
“I can handle it,” she assures me. “I just didn’t know what you wanted—”
“It’ll be fun,” I tell her as I wipe my hands with a clean dish towel.
“O-okay. Thanks.”
She steps back and allows me to pass her but stays hot on my heels since she’s the manager as I coast through the restaurant, ignoring the photographs and whispers as I pass.
I get a few hellos and I nod in return, but as I reach the private room where the bachelor party is six drunken assholes deep, I’m reminded why I don’t like people other than my people.
Except that all comes to a screeching halt when I see who one of the drunken assholes is. Adam.
“What are you doing here?”
He gives me a cocky smile despite the dollop of steak sauce he has on the side of his mouth, his eyes glazed, and he looks more than a little drunk. The three empty bottles of wine on the table along with empty shot glasses, explain that.
“You know you’re not the first person to say that to me today. I was a hero.”
I fold my arms, far from impressed. “Good for you. Answer me.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t say yes to the show, though I would have enjoyed canceling you before you even began.”
I narrow my eyes. “What show? The one your girlfriend wanted me to do?”
“Not my girlfriend. She’s a vindictive, backstabbing whore. Sort of like you.” He points at me, and I’m lost.
“Adam, what is this bullshit?”
“I’m here for a bachelor party since I didn’t get to go to mine.” His smile stays glued to his lips, but there’s something extra about him I’m trying to figure out.
I glance around at the other guys who have gone quiet since I entered the room, their eyes dancing back and forth between Adam and me.
I know two of them. They were supposed to attend Adam’s bachelor party.
They’re guys he went to college with that I never liked much.
Adam has a lot of douchey friends and looking at him now, thinking about who he is, I realize if it weren’t for his friendship with Nash and his ‘sticking by me’ after the incident, I never would have bothered with him.
“That’s great, but why are you and your friends assaulting my employees, generally being assholes, and griping about food you clearly finished?” I gesture to the two massive Fred Flintstone-sized bones void of meat on the otherwise empty plates.
He wipes his mouth with his napkin and tosses it on the table. “Because we can, and you’ll take care of it. You owe me a hell of a lot more than that.”
I didn’t get to hit him after he hurt Braelyn.
I was still stuck on the he’s my friend train and wasn’t quite sure what to do with him, but now I’m regretting that I didn’t break his nose or his jaw or his orbital bone. Jaw is the worst of those three. Trust me. Nothing like needing your jaw wired shut or limiting your ability to talk or eat.
That would drive him wild.
Motherfucker lives for those.
Except I got the girl, and he’s busy making a fool out of himself because he’s got nothing left except his ridiculous pride, which clearly isn’t serving him well.
“You’re right. I will take care of it. Eliza, can you call the police?” I ask my manager.
“As you know, we have a zero-tolerance policy on sexual assault, harassment, or disorderly conduct here. I’m positive their waitress would like to press charges.
We’ll also be able to tack on theft since they’re trying to steal their meals after they’ve eaten them.
Considering the cost of their steaks, the charges will be felony grand larceny. ”
“Whoa! Hold up now!” Jason, one of Adam’s college buddies, cries out. “That’s not necessary.”
“I beg to differ,” I tell him.
“Wait. Hold on, man,” one of them says, his hands up in the air. “I didn’t agree to any of this.”
“You didn’t stop your friend either,” I counter dryly.
“Shit.” Another friend starts to nervously shift and lean across the table in Adam’s direction. “This is not how I want to spend my bachelor party. Laura will kill me if I get arrested. Let’s just pay the bill and get out of here.”
“Yeah,” they all agree. “No harm, man. We’ll pay and be on our way.”
Adam looks murderous.
“And my waitress?” I ask coolly without removing my eyes from him.
“Adam, fucking apologize to the woman so we can get out of here,” another friend who clearly wants no part of this jumps in.
So Adam was the dick who got handsy with their waitress. What a piece of shit.
“It got him in here, didn’t it? That was the point.”
I honestly have zero patience for this. “You waited till the end of the night, till shortly before we close to do this? You wanted to see me, so you assaulted a woman instead of being a man and coming to talk to me? What a sad little sack of shit you are,” I say to him.
“You cheat on your fiancée, and over a month later, you throw a temper tantrum in a public restaurant and bring your friends along for your ride of shame? What did you think I’d do?
Just roll over and take it because we were friends until I got the girl you were dumb enough to let go of?
Did you think I’d throw a punch and you could sue me? ”
His jaw locks, and yep, I can see it. That’s exactly what he thought.
“Grow up, Adam. Learn how to be a man and take responsibility for your actions.” Jesus.
I can’t believe I just said it that way.
“And fuck you for making me sound like my grandfathers.” I point at him, followed by his crew.
“My manager is going to charge someone’s card right now for the full dinner amount, and I expect a generous tip for your waitress along with an apology.
That said, if she wants to press charges for people putting their hands on her without her permission, that’s her right, and I’ll support it. ”
The guys race to their feet, reaching for their credit cards. “Here.” One of them hands Eliza their card. “Put a fifty percent tip on for her. We’re sorry. No harm, no foul.”
“Yeah. Truly, we’re sorry.”
The guys continue to go one by one, apologizing up, down, and sideways for being twats and following Adam’s lead.
Meanwhile, Adam doesn’t move. He has a look on his face. A gleam in his eyes. I’ve seen the same thing on the faces of my opponents when they think they have something on me. An upper hand that will let them beat me.
I walk around the table until I’m standing above him. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Whatever you say, Chef,” he replies evenly as he stands, but he’s not as tall as I am and not nearly as in shape. He’s sure as hell not a boxer, and he knows I could crush him with my pinky.
Everyone falls silent again, waiting to see what I’ll do. But I’m not a hothead. I never throw the first punch. I don’t lose my cool for anyone, not even this guy.
I put my hands on my hips, making sure my wedding band is visible. His gaze drops to my hand, and he sees it. What he doesn’t see is the tattoo I have beneath it, but that’s not for him.
He smiles, complete with full teeth. “Still married, I see.”
I don’t reply. It was rhetorical anyway.
“She told me about the show. When I went to fire her, and she tried to blackmail me, she told me about the show.”
I have whiplash with him, but it takes me a second to realize he’s talking about his girlfriend and not Braelyn.
“It was never about me or even you,” he continues.
“It was always about her. She would have done anything to hurt her, and I was the hero. Not only that, she ruined you, and I didn’t even have to lift a finger.
You’re finished. You don’t even know it yet, but you are.
Don’t be shocked when Braelyn comes crying and begging me to take her back.
I’ll have the pleasure of saying I told you so first.”
Without explaining further, he shoves past me, jabbing his shoulder into mine like the tough guy he’s not, and he and his friends shuffle out. I hear them apologize to the waitress, who tells Adam to learn some manners and respect.
That’s how it ends, and I get myself back to work, finishing off the night since it’s already close to closing.
I check my phone, anxious to message Brae about this, but see a text as part of a group message with my other cousins and some of her closest friends informing us that Katy had her baby.
What happened is terrifying, and I’m more than a little relieved to know that both she and Baby Callan are doing well now.
My cousin Keegan posted a picture of the baby in the NICU with Bennett, who is giving a thumbs-up.
I reply back and after I text Braelyn, except she doesn’t reply.
Just as she has intuition, I do too.
And no matter what, I’m unsettled even as everything goes smoothly here. I can’t make heads or tails of what Adam said. It could have been drunk musing. Or not.
An hour later, everything is shut down and the cleaning staff is taking over. I head to my locker, change out of my white coat, into a clean shirt and my leather jacket, grab my bag, and head out the back door.
Only I’m greeted by the last person I ever expected to see. “What are you doing here?” I ask for the second time tonight.