Chapter 15 #2
I knew she liked a little something in the back door. I mean, her exploding in my mouth told me that already, but this just shows she didn’t get enough that night.
Ways I can give her more in that department paint the canvas of my imagination, and when I leave the bathroom it’s with my cheeks nearly splitting from my smile.
What a way to spend your day off, Boss. Your chef approves.
Lexi’s intent couldn’t be clearer, the way she’s standing by the front door, held wide open and waiting for me—apparently completely unconcerned with the plethora of swooping, buzzing insects the size of small birds that live in her front yard getting in, as long as I get the fuck out.
After that evidence that I’m deep inside Lexi where it counts, knowing she can’t get rid of me just by having me walk out of her house, I’m looking forward to seeing her once again even more than I already was.
“Thanks so much,” I say, bowing forward slightly in thanks, then grabbing my backpack from the floor of the entrance and throwing it over one shoulder. “Just had to tell you, your counters in the bathroom are absolutely beautiful.”
With a wink that has her scraping her memory, the door is already closed before she puts it together.
Her frustrated scream makes it to me even as I’m climbing on the bike and heading to town.
Lunch service is just about ready to kick off with surprisingly few hiccups by the time I get into the café and behind my station to relieve Charlie of solo prep duty.
Today’s Samuel’s day off, so I’ve got the lunch to dinner shift on the hot line, but I don’t mind.
As much as I enjoy the executive functions that come with being head chef—even of a small place like this—nothing does it for me like getting to cook for others.
It’s my favorite part of the job, hands down, and I jump at the chance to hop in on the line when the guys are slammed and could use extra hands.
Our part-time server, Violet, Tracy’s oldest daughter and mother of her granddaughters, skips into the kitchen, pulling up short when she sees me and only me in the kitchen. Sheets of white-blonde hair frame her face and accentuate the pink that rises in the apples of her cheeks when our eyes meet.
“Chef,” she says quietly, surprise in her tone. “I thought…”
“Charlie? He’s on break,” I tell her. “What can I do ya for?”
“To go order. Strawberry salad, light dressing—”
“Add grilled chicken,” I finish for her, and her cheeks heat again.
Aurora—Rory’s—standing lunchtime order. Still getting used to her nickname, but it’s what everyone here calls her and I’m trying to adapt.
“Yeah,” Violet whispers, eyes falling to the ground.
The girl is way too young for me, but her crush is adorable.
She’s only eight years younger than me, shit, there’s a bigger age gap between Lexi and me, but I’ve always had a thing for older women. Vi is about twenty years too young for my taste.
I wonder if she notices the way Charlie fumbles plates and misfires orders in her presence, or if she’s too wrapped up in her own world to notice what’s right in front of her.
Not my circus, I remind myself.
Swapping to the other side of the kitchen, I head to the garde manger and prep Rory’s salad for her, sprinkling a little extra goodness on there for her, the way I know she’ll like it.
Been feeding the woman for years, I know how to make her smile almost as well as her husband does.
When I holler “Order up!” no one comes to the back, even minutes later. So I head into the dining room, bringing the box to the pick-up station by the register.
Off to the side, by the hallway in the back that leads to the storage and office spaces, are Violet and Charlie, absorbed in a conversation. Our one and only server has abandoned the floor.
Good thing we’re not exactly packed at this time of day.
Rory must’ve been swamped to have such a late lunch, probably prepping the formal grand opening.
It’s less than two months away now, and from what I’ve heard—both in the Heights Hotties chat, and from the talk around town—it’s going to be the event of a lifetime for this town.
My three-month stage will be up around the same time. Every mention of the grand opening makes me wonder if Lexi and the owner have decided whether to bring me on permanently yet, or what else I can show them to sell them on having me here in time.
The café has been doing great, beating the projections they’d hoped for. But I know if she would just approve some of the recipes I’ve been proposing we’d be doing even better.
Rather than sigh, I double down on this game Lexi is playing with me and remind myself that I’ve waited years for a chance like this. And a woman like her. I can be patient when it counts.
Plopping the container down, I’m on my way back to the kitchen when the bell of the front door tinkles, and I turn to see Rory sweep in.
In a pantsuit and high heels, sunglasses holding back her brown hair, the woman looks like she’s striding down Fifth, hunting for the next acquisition for her bag collection, not the only restaurant on Main Street in a town of a few thousand.
“Got the goods right here,” I tell her, picking up the box and waving it at her.
“I’m starved,” she says, reaching for it with a thin arm. “Got wrapped up in call after call. You’re saving me, Wilder.”
“Can’t have you wasting away on us now,” I tell her with a wink.
“What do I owe you?” she asks.
“It’s on the house,” I tell her.
“Absolutely not,” she refuses, shaking her head.
“Well, I don’t know how to use the till, it’s the boss’s day off, and the server on duty is currently quite busy being flirted with by the cold line cook, so I’m afraid there’s no one here to take your money,” I tell her, shrugging with a hint of a smile.
“I’ll pay for hers,” calls a familiar, high voice from a booth near the front window.
Rory spins gracefully, arms high in the air. “Amelia!” She blows a kiss at her brother-in-law’s woman and mouths to call her later, before she heads through the front door, back to her domain.
My eyes land back on Amelia. Poor girl’s been through a lot lately, and I haven’t seen her since shit went down—mostly getting updates from Weston in the guys’ chat—so I take the chance to check in on her.
Her face lights up as I get closer. “Well, hello, Chef,” she practically purrs.
If I didn’t know Lexi well enough to know she hasn’t confessed to the sins she’s given into with me—she’ll barely admit them to herself—I would almost wonder if this girl’s heard, with that knowing gleam in her eyes.
“Hello, yourself. How ya been?”
Amelia nods, tucking her head into one shrugging shoulder, as a shy smile erupts on her face. “Good, actually. Just did an interview for a job.”
“Oh, I heard about that!” I say, nodding. “Congrats.”
“Thanks. Hey, is Lex around? I wanted to ask her something in person.” Amelia looks around, like she might walk out of the kitchen, face flushed from the way I rile her up every time she comes back there, but no such vision appears to both of our dismay.
“Nah, she’s got the day off.”
“Here she comes!” Amelia chirps, sitting taller, and her eyes trained on the front doors pulls my attention, my stomach rising with hope.
But it’s not Lexi there.
A girl not much taller than Weston’s wifey walks in, though her hair is straight, platinum blonde, and much longer than Amelia’s. Phone extended in front of her like she’s taking a selfie, I don’t get a good look at her face until she changes angles, which is when recognition strikes me.
Of all the gin joints in the world…
“Jynx!” I call to her.
The gorgeous Korean American woman around my age flicks her eyes up to mine and she gasps excitedly.
“Wilder?”
I can feel Amelia’s stare bouncing between us, but I’ll have to explain for a big city, how small of a city NYC really is in just a second.
For now, I have an old regular to sweep into a soul-crushing hug.
Jynx giggles, spinning in my hold, before she brings her phone up to catch us both in the frame. And that’s when I see that she wasn’t taking a selfie.
I’m not exactly a pro with social media. Avoiding it avidly is more my thing. But I’ve seen enough people nearly squashed by cabs and buses in the city to know what live streaming looks like.
My veins flood with ice water, chilling over as I’m outed publicly, thrust onto camera.
The Stay Safe From Your Mob Connections checklist was so close to being perfect.
Pick somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Check.
Get a new phone and number. Check.
Avoid all social media. Check.
Don’t get caught in the livestream of an internet celebrity. Nope.
So close, Amante.
Face frozen, I remind each muscle one by one to act natural, not call even more attention to myself as Jynx talks excitedly into the camera, my face still in frame.
“Like this town couldn’t get any better!
I mean, you saw how cute the downtown was, look who’s here!
Vixens, I’ve just solved a mystery. The missing sandwich man from the bodega on 23rd.
My favorite place to grab a quick bite, it’s not the same without this man right here.
” She grins into the camera before looking back at me. “No wonder the food here was so good!”
Her charisma can’t help but win me over and I shoot her a grateful smile.
I’ve said it before, nothing I love more than feeding people good food.
Well, almost nothing.
Someone who appreciates that food? Warms my scarred heart.
I drop an arm over her shoulder, and she leans into my hold, like old friends.
“Until next time, Vixens!”
She signs off the live and spins to face me fully, going in for another hug. “What are the odds?” she asks, and I have to wonder the same fucking question.
All I can do is hope the odds are slim anyone that knew me was watching.