Chapter 11
ISLA
Fridays were a madhouse at West End. I entered from the back, dialing into the clinking of pots and pans and Falina shouting orders from the stove. For a tiny thing, she had a booming voice, even the men were afraid of her.
I was beyond grateful she wasn’t around when Ciro interrupted my day yesterday. It was bad enough that Keri was present. By now, Falina probably heard Keri’s exaggerated story about the rich, handsome man who wanted to take me to dinner.
Stop thinking about Ciro. Be glad he didn’t come back.
While Falina barked orders, her hand maintained a slow, steady speed as she stirred a whisk in the saucepan. Her head whipped from left and right, to make sure her staff were doing the tasks she’d given them.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Falina had a pair of eyes in the back of her head. The woman seriously saw everything that went on in her kitchen.
I was fifteen minutes late, again. It wasn’t the end of the world, but every minute counted in my busy catering station.
“Isla,” Falina hollered the second she spotted me. I tensed instantly. “We’re swamped today with two catered lunches, and Keri called in sick.” She rolled her eyes. “I need you to fill in for her.”
I groaned low in my throat. Damn you, Keri. I knew going out for drinks with Mr. IT was a bad idea. She’d done this very thing far too many times. She must enjoy torturing me.
“Sure! No problem,” I replied, except covering for Keri meant working until closing. I threw my purse and coat into my locker and sent Alba a text.
Isla: Heads up. Covering for Keri today. 13hr shift. Yay! NOT!!!
Alba: No prob. Pippa will be fine. Keep your chin up.
Isla: Thanks. You’re the best!
Guilt spread through my chest. I hadn’t mentioned Ciro’s surprise visit to Alba. Figured if I didn’t breathe a word of him, maybe he hadn’t really been in West End. Maybe it had only been my active imagination.
I laughed at my ridiculousness. Denying Ciro was here or that he even existed was plain stupid. Pippa was proof he most indeed existed. Her father’s blood ran through her.
Putting my phone into my back pocket, I hit the ground running. The bistro opened at eleven, and it was my job to have the salads and soups prepared. And by damn, they’d be ready.
Curse words bounced off the walls in my head, ones I wouldn’t say out loud. Thinking them was enough. Once the naughty words came and went, I inhaled a deep breath. I couldn’t stay angry at Keri or Falina, or even Ciro. If Ciro was gone for good, I’d forgive this infraction.
And there was a silver lining for covering Keri’s shift: overtime pay.
I got this. Overtime moolah for the win!
Three hours passed in a flash. I was dragging, after not having my usual latte with almond milk to kick-start my morning. It’d take a double shot of espresso to get me through the lunch rush, maybe a triple shot.
“Isla!”
Falina’s sharp voice startled me. What now? I would love to yell, leave me the hell alone, but she was the manager and head chef, and I needed this job.
“Yeah?” I returned as any obedient and respectful employee would do.
“Can you train in a new server?”
Half a dozen pairs of dark eyes looked back at me as I bit my tongue until I tasted blood.
Breathe, just breathe.
On top of doing my job and Keri’s, Falina wanted me to train a new server? Hell no. She needed to find someone else. What did I look like, Supergirl?
“Sure,” I replied before I said what was on the tip of my bloody tongue. Because dammit, I needed this job.
I couldn’t afford to piss off Falina. She was a fair boss, hard-working, and took no crap from anyone. And not once had she chastised me in front of the staff when I ran late the way she did the others.
Falina was kind of like my savior and she was also Alba’s older cousin.
When I was down on my luck and pregnant, Falin gave me a job, even though I didn’t have an ounce of experience. I’d worked my tail off to prove myself, and Falina had rewarded my efforts.
When Pippa was born, Alba helped me and volunteered to be her babysitter when I needed to go back to work. I didn’t know how I would have made it through all my challenges without Falina and Alba.
In a little over a year, I went from server to Chef de Partie. Fancy, right? Not really. It only meant station chef. Soups and salads were my specialties, and I assisted the catering manager, Dudley, during events.
Ten minutes was yelled and repeated at least six times throughout the kitchen, so everyone knew West End was opening soon.
I checked my phone in case Alba had texted, but she hadn’t. No missed calls. Perfect. I could relax and not worry about my lovebug.
Heading to the front beverage station, I made the double shot I desperately needed.
“Hey.” Falina emerged out of nowhere. Her stealthy ways of seeing all, knowing all, and appearing out of thin air creeped me out.
“Hey…” I blew on my cup.
“A quick rundown on the new guy.” Falina sucked in a breath, retying her blonde locks into a tight bun. “Jon is a friend of a friend. Go easy on him. He’s never worked in the food industry before.”
“What?” I gasped and choked on my espresso, tearing up as the scalding liquid burned my throat. Jon didn’t have any experience. This day just kept getting better and better. Not!
Several curse words ripped through my head, again. This time, I’d love to unleash them on Falina.
“I know, I know. That’s why I asked you to train him. You’re a born teacher.”
I rolled my eyes. Ever since I had the baby, everyone called me a born teacher. Patient and nurturing. It was all crap. Teaching and managing people were not my forte. I was a shy introvert. That was what made being an interior designer so perfect for me. Most times I worked alone.
“Why did you hire him?” I asked out of curiosity. There had to be a good reason for her to take on someone with no experience.
“We could use the help. Case in point: Keri. And Jon needs the money. He completes his residency in the fall, and no one will hire him with his limited availability. I felt bad. Sue me.” She shrugged nonchalantly.
Sue her? I might kill her.
“He’s a sympathy hire.” It wasn’t a question, because I knew Falina. The woman had a gigantic heart. It was why she’d hired me, someone who didn’t have experience. Dammit.
“If that’s what you want to call it,” she tittered. “It’s done. Now deal with it.” Falina’s ice-blue eyes cooled my temper. She was too damn sweet to be angry at, even if she was a hard-ass at times.
“And you’re starting him on a Friday. That’s insane.”
“It was the only time he could make it in for training.”
I popped my neck, rolling my shoulders as the hostess unlocked the door. “Fine. I’ll train him. Where is he?”
“He’ll be here at noon. If it makes a difference, he’s super cute and will be a doctor soon.” Falina gave me an exaggerated wink, her mouth open and everything.
Jeez. I don’t need a man.
“It doesn’t make a difference,” I told her. The last thing I needed was a man in my life, diverting my attention away from Pippa. She only had one parent. I wouldn’t be like my mom and choose a man over my child, not to mention Ciro reemerging in my life yesterday.
Stop thinking about Ciro. He’s gone.
“He’s a nice guy. Funny and handsome. And soon, he’ll be a good provider. Then, you could be a stay-at-home mom. I know that’s your heart’s desire.”
Crap! She already had me marrying this guy.
I swallowed the last of my espresso along with my emotions. Staying home with Pippa was my heart’s desire, but it wasn’t in the cards for me. It could have been, had Ciro and I worked out. If he hadn’t been such a stubborn asshole.
Why in the hell couldn’t I stop thinking about him? Where had my resolve gone? After months of depression and crying an ocean’s worth of tears, I’d accepted my fate.
How could I let him tear me down in one short conversation?
“Listen, I’m not interested,” I replied to Falina. “I just hope I don’t trip over Jon as I train him.”
“I doubt that’ll happen. The guy is crazy tall, like six-five. Stop being a Crabby Cathy.”
I sighed as I fidgeted with the ties on my apron. “I don’t mean to complain. The baby was up in the middle of the night again. I’m exhausted. I don’t know if I can be patient today.”
“I’ll put a bonus in your paycheck.” She wiggled her brows and adjusted her red-rimmed glasses. She rocked the hipster look.
Me? I looked like a boring, exhausted mom. But I loved the title of Mom and didn’t give a crap about what I looked like. Not anymore, anyway.
“Whatever. Just tell Jon to find me and to keep up.”
“You’re a peach.” Falina dashed off just as the lunch crowd burst through the door. “It’s go time!” She clapped as she entered the kitchen.
An hour later, I hadn’t stopped. A steady wave of customers was typical for West End, and it wouldn’t let up for another couple of hours.
My back pocket vibrated as I placed four water glasses on a tray. Pippa. I whipped out my phone, my heart hammering, but it wasn’t a text. I sighed, releasing the instant worry I always got when my phone vibrated.
Just a notification from an employment site.
I got them regularly, letting me know when someone viewed my profile or wanted to be added to my network.
Network? I hardly knew anyone and didn’t really care to, but I figured someday one of the sixty-seven people might be helpful.
For now, I ignored it and put my phone back in my pocket.
Wait. Was that how Ciro found me? Of course! He really didn’t just stumble into West End. Well, I’ll be damned.
“Train me, Obi-Wan… You’re my last hope.”
I turned toward the deep, pleasant voice. My eyes locked on a broad-shouldered man who should have been dunking basketballs instead of wearing a black server’s apron.
“Is-la?” He squinted, studying my nametag.
I glared into his bright blue eyes as if annoyed. I suspected he was Jon. “No. It’s only hope, not last hope.” I smirked, then felt stupid for knowing he’d quoted the movie wrong. Freaking Ciro and his obsession with Star Wars. “And you are?”
He grinned showing off his perfect white teeth and full lips. “Jon. Your new Jedi in training.”
All I could do was stare at him. Falina was wrong. Jon wasn’t only super cute. He was also super charming.
“Teach me, Obi-Wan. I’m ready,” he said.
“Ha, ha. Cute.” I turned away to add slices of lemon to the glasses of water, and to hide the flush in my cheeks.
“I try.”
I looked back at him and he winked. His calm blue depths were kind and playful, and the combination coupled with his good looks could be dangerous for my damaged heart.
“First. My name is Eye-la, not Is-la.” I rolled my eyes, annoyed at how many people mispronounced my name.
“My apologies, Isla.” He nodded as he said my name in a sincere tone.
“It’s fine.” I reclined my neck. The dude was seriously tall. “What kind of doctor? Sports medicine?” I lowered my gaze to his arms, noticing how his bronze skin contrasted nicely with the crisp white button-down shirt he wore.
Falina didn’t have a strict dress code. She didn’t care about the style of shirt. It only had to be solid black or white—no prints. Most of the staff wore T-shirts, but Jon must’ve wanted to make a good impression. I liked that about him. It showed he cared.
“Family practice. I’m not much of a sports guy.”
Color me surprised. “That’s a shame. You have the um… build for it.” I forced myself to stop assessing him when his eyes twinkled. “Keep up, Doc.” I bolted away, tray in hand.
The next two hours were uneventful with Doctor Jon dazzling me with his dexterity and speed. There wasn’t one broken glass, wrong order, or any other screw up for that matter.
Mind blown.
Despite Jon’s above-average height, long arms, and big hands, he worked with precision and care. But was he the same way in the bedroom?
Gah! No, Isla. Head out of the bedroom.
Hard up or not, I had Pippa to consider. Instead, I blamed Ciro for screwing with my mind yesterday and making me feel again.
Oh, oh… Jon’s long fingers… They were suddenly massaging my neck. Oh, my word!
“You’re tense,” my Jedi in training whispered from behind me.
“You have no idea.” My breathing hitched. I couldn’t help it. Nor could I help but soak my stupid cotton bikinis. Had I actually said that out loud? How pathetic was I?
Of course, being touched by a man melted me after zero physical touch since… Ciro. God, I just wanted him out of my head.
“I can help you with that.” His thumbs pressed along the base of my neck.
Melting. Melting. Melting.
The way he kneaded my muscles felt spectacular. The pads of his fingers traveled up, then back down, then up my neck. Suddenly, those long-ass fingers covered my throat. He could’ve choked me if he applied the right amount of pressure.
My mind went straight into the gutter, imagining Doctor Jon tying me to a bed and having his way with me. Torturing me with his long digits…
Hell yes! I want him to help me with that.
I hadn’t had sex since—
I stopped myself from thinking his name. My eyes rolled into my head as I relished Doctor Jon’s attention.
The bistro was so quiet, we could hear a pin drop or the rampant pulse in my ears. I clenched my thighs. The cotton fabric between them was so warm and wet, furthering my dirty desires.
Ciro’s furious brown eyes flashed in my head.
I inhaled a ragged breath and stepped away from Jon. “Let me show you how to do your timecard at the end of your shift.”
“Isla… I shouldn’t have…” His voice trailed. Regret rolled off him, and I wasn’t sure if I should be embarrassed or offended.
“No. It’s fine. Come…” I cringed mid-step. Nice word choice. I pretended I didn’t just say come and continued toward the back of the bistro to teach my new Jedi the ins and outs of the kitchen.
I wondered if he was working catering with me later. No. I shouldn’t wonder anything about him. But what if he was part of the fresh start I needed?
He’s not. Stop it already.