Chapter Thirteen #3
He’d been so excited to share this part of the process with Damon; introducing him to the small, hand-picked kitchen team he’d assembled, and part of Xander was definitely peeved that he was acting like he wasn’t involved with this at all.
Damon’s money was paying for these people, at least at the beginning, just like it had paid for the renovation of this building and the glass and the tables and chairs in the dining room and the high-end gas stove he was currently sautéing on.
It had even paid for this pan and the spatula in his hand.
He'd also been counting on Damon to help Xander make a strong case for why the staff should leave their current employment and take a chance on a Napa-area restaurant that didn’t serve wine. Xander decided right then that he was done letting him skate by.
“When I made this dish the other night for Damon,” Xander said, “he nearly fell to his knees and begged me for more.” He shot a sharp look in Damon’s direction, and when he looked up, he definitely looked skewered. His dark brows furrowed and he didn’t look too pleased either.
“I’d like everyone to try the recipe,” Xander finally said, after he lifted out the fish and deposited it on the already prepared plate. Fish last, as it was the crowning piece, and also because the halibut’s cooking time was both short and incredibly precise.
He turned to Damon and placing an insistent hand on his bicep, practically dragged him out of the kitchen and into the dining room where nobody could hear them.
“What is your deal today?” he demanded.
Damon shrugged, which was even worse. “Sorry, I guess I’m just distracted. Didn’t sleep well.”
Xander had slept next to him, and knew he’d slept just fine, so that was just bullshit. He was about to say so when Damon continued.
“Do you think you should be so . . . friendly in front of our employees?” Damon finally asked, dropping his voice down until even Xander could barely hear him.
“Friendly?” Xander crossed his arms over his chest.
“You were practically caressing my arm when you were introducing me to them,” Damon said.
Xander couldn’t believe it. Actually, scratch that.
He could. He could totally believe it because it had happened to him once before, and he had sworn to himself—an ironclad promise he’d never had any intention of breaking no matter how soulful Damon’s dark eyes were or how ripped his arms or how when he looked at Xander it felt like he was seeing (and loving) his whole complete self—that it would absolutely never happen again.
And now, it was happening again. “You don’t want your employees to know we’re dating.” He said it flatly, without emotion, like somehow that could contain the sudden hurricane whipping up inside him.
“No. No.” Damon said it clearly. “I don’t want . . . I guess I want to make sure we stay professional.”
“Explain,” Xander said. He was holding himself back from judgement—barely.
“We want to maintain high standards, we want to have a professional work environment, right? I think that starts with us. If you’re going to be flirting with me, talking about me on my knees begging for you, that doesn’t exactly scream professional.
You worked for Bastian Aquino. I know you want something different than Terroir.
Maybe Aquino wasn’t alluding to his sex life, but he was a shitty boss.
I want to be something better, and I want that for you too. ”
Xander took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Trying to calm himself down. “So if I told everyone in there that we were dating but we’re going to be keeping that part of our lives at home, you wouldn’t care?”
“I told you,” Damon said, patiently. “I don’t care if people know if we’re together. I care if it affects the Barrel House. We’ve both put a lot into this. Let’s make it a success.”
Xander wanted to believe him. He really did.
He almost did, but not quite. There was still that voice whispering in the back of his mind that this was just like Dustin had been.
Dustin had been full of excuses too, and in the beginning some of them had been good ones.
Convincing enough that Xander had agreed easily to let the matter of their relationship being public slide.
And, he added, further trying to silence that voice, it wasn’t like Damon wasn’t willing for people to know. He just didn’t want it encroaching in the workplace. He didn’t want it affecting the restaurant he’d poured all his money and his dreams into. Xander couldn’t blame him for that.
He nearly retorted that if Damon wanted to make the Barrel House a success, then he should hire a sommelier and have them pick a wine selection, but he held back. That wasn’t this fight. This was a whole different fight.
“Okay,” Xander said, cautiously. “But you should know why I’m concerned.
” He hesitated. He had never intended to tell Damon about his high school boyfriend, and how he’d left him.
Left wasn’t even the right term. Dustin had drifted away further and further, no matter how tightly Xander had tried to hold onto him, no matter how desperately he tried to convince Dustin to come out.
“Tell me,” Damon encouraged, and that helped. It always seemed just as Xander was about to get truly fed up, Damon managed to dig himself out of the hole.
“My boyfriend in high school. He wanted all the convenience of a boyfriend. In secret. I couldn’t get him to be honest about me. I just made myself a promise after going through that heartbreak that I wouldn’t let it ever happen again.”
“And you’re afraid it’s going to happen again,” Damon answered.
“Maybe a little, yes.”
Damon pressed a swift kiss to Xander’s lips. “I’ll take out an ad in the paper and tell every single person I meet. I’m not ashamed of you. I’m not ashamed you’re a guy. I just want to keep it professional here.”
Xander already knew he was going to make the conscious decision to trust Damon.
After all, Damon had given him no reason to doubt him before this.
Sure, he hadn’t told his father about bringing Xander to San Francisco, but based on the comments Rachel had made, Damon didn’t typically share anything with his father.
All he needed to really reassure him was to remember those few days in the city. Damon had been so attentive and wonderful. Loving, Xander could even say. And now this.
That was the kicker, here, Xander thought ruefully. He loved Damon, and he wanted Damon to love him back. Wanted it so much that he was even willing to believe him despite his own ugly history.
He leaned in to brush a kiss across Damon’s cheek. “The rest will have to wait ’til we get home,” Xander said cheekily, purposefully trying to lighten the mood. “I’d better get back in there before they destroy something.”
Damon raised an eyebrow. “Is that a possibility?”
Xander laughed. It felt like the unsettled ground they’d been walking across for the last day or two had solidified. Everything was fine, they were going to be fine.
“God, I hope not,” Xander confided. “Else I should have hired other people.”
“Can you spare one more moment?” Damon asked, sounding so hopeful that it was hard for Xander to deny him, so he nodded his agreement.
It would be good to test the new staff’s focus and dedication.
Damon was right about that; he did not want to be another Bastian Aquino, micromanaging everyone within an inch of their lives.
“Come with me,” Damon hissed with a naughty grin, and grabbed his hand, dragging him off toward the nearly finished bathrooms David had just put in.
He pulled Xander inside one of them, and locked the door behind him. “What are you doing?” Xander asked, mystified.
“This,” Damon said. He crowded Xander against the door and, without any warning, leaned in and kissed him hard and fast, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek and the other slid down toward his hip, gripping it tightly.
It took Xander a single moment to catch up.
For someone who didn’t like PDA at work, Damon was pretty amenable to sneaking off to the bathrooms to make out.
But then Damon changed the angle on the kiss and it went from merely passionate to straight-up dirty, and Xander was reminded of how busy they’d been and how much he wanted another marathon night of sex.
“That,” Damon said, breaking away breathless, “was an apology. I’m so sorry. I was an ass. It won’t happen again. Especially now that I know how much it hurt you.”
“It’s okay,” Xander said, curling his hands into his pants so he wouldn’t reach out and run his fingers up Damon’s obvious hard-on. “I know you’re not an asshole.”
“We good?”
This time Xander felt confident in his answer when he nodded. “We’re good.”
“I’d tell you good luck,” Damon said, “but I know you don’t need it. You’ve got this.” He looked like he believed one hundred and ten percent in what he was saying. And someone who looked like that might finally love Xander the way he’d been waiting for.
Xander put a hand over Damon’s heart, just resting it there.
He was silent a long moment. Maybe he shouldn’t say it.
He’d known it was true for a long time, but maybe it was too soon.
Maybe it would scare Damon away. But, he reasoned, Damon should know.
Maybe Damon even needed to know. Xander thought he’d been pretty clear that he wasn’t in this to fuck around, but maybe he needed to be even clearer.
“I love you, you know,” he said, and he got the words out with only a tiny waver of uncertainty. And nobody could blame him for that.
“I know,” Damon said, a smile breaking over his face like a particularly spectacular sunrise. “I love you too.”
Xander grinned back giddily, his heart beating madly in his chest, matching Damon’s beat for beat. “I should get back.”
“You should,” Damon said. But he didn’t move either.
“It seems like neither of us is pretty good at this professional-at-work thing,” Damon added after a long moment. He was still smiling.
“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Xander said with another brief kiss to Damon’s cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.” He reached around, unlocked the door and slipped out, feeling like a new man as he headed back into the kitchen.
Damon did love him, he hadn’t been imagining that. And someone who loved him the way Damon seemed to wouldn’t fuck this up, Xander reasoned. He just wouldn’t.