Chapter 29
Tuck
“So, what’s the story with the big guy?”
I shove another tray of plates into the industrial washer as Brady wipes down his station, getting set for tonight’s service.
“Hellbender?” Brady glances toward the salad station, even though the giant guy who occupies the section has already headed out for a break.
I slam the washer door shut and press the button. The machine roars to life, blasting everything inside with scalding water.
I straighten, shaking out my wet hands. “Yeah. The way he precision-sliced those strawberries, I was gonna guess he did time in a sushi kitchen.”
“Nah—prison,” Brady replies. “That’s where he learned to cook. I met him in rehab.”
“No shit?” I lean on the stainless bench. “You never told me too much about all that. Just that it was a detox type thing that cleared your head, and led you to moving back here.”
Brady sets his knife down. “Not exactly dinner conversation, is it?”
Fair point. But still. “It was a surprise when you gave up the LA scene.”
He half-smirks. “Really? You know it became a huge mess, right? All the bad press. Angry investors. Restaurants closing down. I was pretty fucked up. Life went sideways. The kind of sideways where you wake up one morning and realize you don’t like who you’ve become. Don’t know where you’re headed.”
“And the program helped with that?”
He nods. “Gave me clarity. Taught me how to get back to basics. How to replace toxic highs with natural ones. And it was the right timing, because Vivian came back into my life. Then discovering our history, learning about Finn. Yeah, it’s been a huge shift, that’s for sure.”
I pull open the dishwasher against the billowing steam. “You figured it all out.”
Brady shrugs, but there’s pride in his eyes. “Took a while. But yeah. And man, I love my work now. The food tour we set up is helping put local businesses on the map. Beekeepers, cheesemakers, herb growers—so much talent. Feels good to be part of something bigger than just running a restaurant.”
I nod, setting clean pans aside. “I get that.”
He looks over. “What about you? You still fired up about the fashion empire?”
I chuckle, but there’s no real humor in it. “It’s running itself now. Wildly successful, ridiculously profitable. And yet…” I shake my head. “The drive’s not there anymore. I need a new challenge.”
Brady studies me for a moment, then grins. “That’s where Pen comes in? Hard to think of a bigger challenge than her. Are you here with an update on how things are going?”
I pause, drying my hands off. “I think…I mean, I don’t wanna jinx things. But I might have an outside chance.”
Brady laughs. “I’d never bet against you, buddy. So what’s your next move?”
I fold my arms. “I think I need something really big. A grand gesture. Something she can’t ignore.”
“Great. Just don’t go too full spectacle on me, okay?”
Brady grabs the stack of clean pans, stores them away with practiced ease, then leans back against the counter, rubbing a hand over his face.
“With Mason’s damn swans on the lake and fly-overs for their engagement, plus this wedding that’s shaping up like a royal coronation— ” He groans. “All I need is for you to whisk Pen off to Paris, or rent out the Empire State Building, and suddenly I’m gonna need a flash mob and a fireworks permit just to propose to Vivian.”
“Brady! You’re proposing to Vivian? When ?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Relax, man. Not until our work hours drop below sleep-deprivation levels and we actually have enough energy left to celebrate it properly.”
I nod, makes sense. Then, I notice Brady glancing at the clock over the service bench.
“Hey, I should let you get back to it. Or, you know, actually take a break with your staff.”
“Yeah, thanks for the help, Tuck. We’re prepped fine, so I might sneak in a power nap before service.” He stretches his arms over his head. “And I can let you off the hook tonight. Finn’s really stepped up lately—he’s a great kitchen hand. Won’t be the same without Viv here, but we’ll manage.”
“Yeah, good she could make the girls’ day out,” I say, as we head into the dining area. “Really not Pen’s usual scene, so I’m sure she appreciates having Vivian there for backup.”
Brady huffs out a laugh. “Well, whatever happens, it’ll be a hell of a lot tamer than Mason’s party.” He shakes his head. “Fuck—that was traumatic.”
“Not sure which was worse,” I say heavily, “the spiked drinks disaster, or the way Mia tore into me for being a shit best man.”
“Serious?” Brady looks stricken. “That wasn’t even your fault. I’m the idiot who invited a famous chef with an addiction problem and an axe to grind.”
“Don’t sweat it. She was also pissed about some of the other… entertainment that I was responsible for.” I rub a hand over my jaw. “I guess Mason spilled everything. Like, aren’t some things supposed to be sacred?”
Brady shrugs.
I squint at him. “Let me guess, you tell Vivian everything, too?” I pat my pocket for my car keys, then freeze. “Wait a second. Did you tell her all the stuff I told you about Pen?”
“Didn’t have to.” He shrugs. “She already knew about the baby deal. She asked me about it.”
“ What ?” I take a step back. “What exactly did she say? Did she mention me?”
Brady scratches his head. “Nope. Don’t think so. Wait—” He frowns.
“Geezus, Brady! Did Pen tell Vivian she’s thinking about a baby, like, with me ?”
“I don’t think so?” he wavers. “Basically, Viv said Pen’s thinking about having a kid. Viv told her she should go for it. That was about it.”
“And then you told Vivian I want to be involved?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Oh…yeah.” He nods.
I exhale. “Great.”
“What’s the problem?” he asks.
“Well, now they’re all out there sipping cocktails and getting massages together. What do you think they’re talking about? What if they all tell her it’s a bad idea?”
“Isn’t your mom with them?” Brady says brightly. “Susan will probably love the idea!”
“Fuck.” I cringe. “I can’t have my whole future decided by a bunch of women getting tanked on daiquiris all afternoon! Everything’s on the line here— ”
Brady holds up a hand. “Tuck, you’re spiraling, dude. Relax. Viv’s not gonna say anything. Well, at least not unless Pen brings it up. They’re probably talking shopping, or horoscopes, or…makeup?”
I stare at him. “ That’s what you think women talk about when they’re alone?”
He rubs his neck. “I mean…yeah? Why—do you think they’re swapping notes on their sex lives or something?” His face suddenly twists in horror. “Dude. Our mothers are there.”
I groan.
“ No . No way,” Brady says, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. “I’m telling you, they’re probably talking about gardening, I don’t know…organic candles. Nothing exciting. Nothing to panic about.”
“Right. Perfect.” I shake my head, completely unconvinced. “Great chat, Brady.”
I turn for the door.
“Wait! Of course—” Brady slaps his forehead. “The wedding! That’s what they’ll be talking about. Wedding dresses, cakes, floral arrangements. They can go all day on that stuff. Phew …yeah, that’s it.” He nods, as if saying it enough times will make it true.
And I wish I could believe him. But I know Pen. Today’s mission objective is to dodge wedding talk at all costs. She wants to avoid any scrutiny about the dress.
So what deep and meaningful subject will she drum up instead?