Chapter 10 Finn
Finn
Imade it back to the bar in what I hoped looked like a casual walk and not the speed-walk of someone fleeing a building engulfed in flames.
“So,” Priya said the second I was within earshot. “Did he recognize you?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And I took his order.”
Mark leaned against the bar, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “You’ve been mooning over this guy for weeks and all you did was take his order?”
“I’m working. He’s a customer. What was I supposed to do?”
“Flirt?” Priya suggested. “That’s generally how these things work.”
“I don’t know how to flirt!”
“Just flash him a tit,” Mark offered. “That t-shirt should come down pretty easy. One whiff of nipple and—”
“Mark!”
“He’s not wrong, boss.” Jacks picked the side of chaos, appearing from the back with a tray of clean pint glasses that he started stacking behind the bar.
He glanced toward Chase’s booth. “Holy shit, he’s hot.
I love blond hair, all messy and rough and ready to be yanked. That’s your dude, the body-checker?”
How in all the gay hells did Jacks know about the sidewalk slamming incident? He was a nice enough guy but was far too new to be in my inner circle. Clearly, Mark’s mouth had been flapping again.
“He’s not—” I started, shooting Mark a side-eyed glare, then stopped because lying was pointless. “Yes. That’s him.”
“Damn.” Jacks let out a low whistle. “Good taste, boss. He looks like a lawyer or something.”
“He is a lawyer.”
“How do you know that?” Priya asked.
“He told me. Just now. When I took his order.”
“So you did talk to him.” Mark’s grin was insufferable.
“Of course I talked to him. That’s how service works. I took his order like a professional.”
“Remind me why you didn’t flirt,” Priya chided.
“Because I’m working. And so is he, apparently.” I gestured toward the booth where Chase was already back to studying his papers. “He brought work with him.”
“On a Friday night?” Priya made a face. “That’s sad.”
“That’s dedication,” I countered, then wondered why I was defending him. “I mean, it’s also sad, but dedicated.”
“You should go back over there,” Mark said.
“Why?”
“To flirt since you failed to show him the goods the first time.”
“I’m not—”
“You’re absolutely going to flirt,” Priya said. “With or without the tittie flopping.”
Mark snorted. Jacks nearly choked.
“You!” I pointed at Jacks because he was the one annoying person I could order around. “Go clean something. In the kitchen. Far away from me.”
“Just be yourself,” Jacks offered as he stepped toward the kitchen. “Chicks—I mean, dudes—I mean, people love that.”
“Thank you, Jacks. Very helpful.”
“I try, boss. Go get you some D!”
The bell from the kitchen rang—Rod’s signal that food was up.
I looked at the window and saw a beautiful burger sitting on a plate, perfectly assembled, with a side of what looked like fried plantains that weren’t on the menu I’d approved.
“That’s for the hottie, isn’t it?” Jacks said.
“Stop calling him that.”
“What should I call him?”
“Chase. His name is Chase.”
“Ooooh, you know his name.” Priya’s grin grew wider. “That’s adorable because you’re chasing him.”
“I hate all of you,” I groused. “And I’m not chasing anybody. I’m serving him a damn burger.”
I practically ran to the kitchen window and grabbed the plate. Rod was at the stove, already working on something else, but he glanced over his shoulder.
“Let me know what he thinks,” Rod said.
“You want me to ask?”
“No, I want you to watch his face when he eats it. You can tell everything from someone’s first bite. Look for an involuntary smile, even a small one. People can’t help but smile when food is good.”
“That’s not creepy at all.”
“It’s chef knowledge. Now go. The plantains are best when they’re hot.”
I grabbed a beer from the cooler, balanced the plate, and headed back across the bar to Chase’s booth.
He was absorbed in his papers, his pen flying across the page as he read, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked exhausted and stressed . . . and unfairly attractive for someone who’d clearly had the day from hell.
I set the plate down in front of him. “One Brady Burger and, uh, those are tostones, fried plantains. They’re not technically on the menu yet, but Rod—our chef—wanted you to try them.”
“Thanks,” Chase said, still looking at his papers.
I didn’t move.
I knew I should’ve walked away and let the poor man eat. I should’ve stopped standing there like a creep.
But Rod had said to watch his first bite.
So I hovered . . . and stared.
Chase finally looked up, his pen pausing above a new paragraph. “Is there . . . something else?”
“I just—” I fidgeted with the bar towel still over my shoulder. “I wanted to see how you like it—the burger. It’s just that everything’s new, so it’s all kind of a test, and we need to know if—” I was rambling. I was rambling. “If the food is good, you know, for customers. You’re our guinea pig.”
Chase’s mouth twitched. “Your guinea pig?”
“That came out wrong.”
“No, I like it. Guinea pig feels very scientific . . . if a bit squeaky. You don’t need me to squeal as I eat, do you?”
My mouth opened, then closed.
Chase grinned, looking like he was enjoying tormenting me almost as much as Priya and Mark had.
He set down his pen and picked up the burger, examining it like he was studying evidence. “Okay, let’s see if I survive this experiment.”
He took a bite.
His eyes closed.
His brow creased.
He chewed a few times . . .
And moaned.
It wasn’t a quiet “hmm, this is good” groan. Oh, no, this was a full, genuine, sensual sound that made my brain short-circuit and my face burst into flames.
“Oh my God,” Chase said around the bite. “Oh, my God.”
“Is it . . . are you dying? Should I take it back?”
“This is . . . incredible,” Chase continued, oblivious to the fact that he’d just made a sound that should be illegal in public. He took another bite. “What’s in this? Is that—” Another bite. Another sound that made my stomach do flips. “Is that plantain in the burger?”
“Yeah,” I managed, my voice coming out strangled. “Rod said it adds sweetness and texture.”
“Rod is a genius.”
I blew out a breath and smiled. “I’ll tell him you said that.”
“Please do. Tell him I would do very naughty things for this burger.”
I suddenly knew what menopausal women meant by a ‘hot flash.’
“That seems extreme.”
“I’m serious.” Chase opened his eyes and looked at me, and I forgot how to think. “I haven’t eaten since lunch—maybe since breakfast, I can’t remember—and this is the best thing I’ve had in a long time.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
We stared at each other.
I should leave. I should definitely leave.
Why was I was lingering?
Oh God, I’m still lingering.
Professional bartenders did not linger at customer tables while they ate.
But I couldn’t make my feet move.
“Um, thanks. This is great.” Chase cleared his throat and gestured at his papers. “I need to get back to these. Big meeting tomorrow morning.”
“Right. Yes. Of course.” I took a step back, nearly tripped over my own feet, caught myself. “Enjoy your burger. You’re a great guinea pig . . . I mean food pig experiment guy. I’ll just—I’m going to go now.”
I turned and fast-walked back to the bar, my face still burning, my heart doing something complicated in my chest.
Jacks was back, leaning against the bar beside Mark. Everyone was staring.
“So?” Priya said.
“He loved the burger,” I reported, sliding behind the bar and grabbing a glass to polish because I needed something to do with my hands. “Definite burger success.”
“And the flirting?” Mark asked.
“Flirt failure.”
“What happened?” Jacks leaned forward slightly.
“I called him a guinea pig and then stood there like a stalker with an ankle bracelet while he ate.”
“That’s not flirting; that’s peeping,” Priya observed.
“I’m aware.”
“But he liked the burger?” Jacks asked.
“He moaned.”
“He what?” Mark’s grin was feral.
“Moaned. Like—” I gestured helplessly. “Like he was coming in his fancy dress pants right there at the table. He said it was the best thing he’d eaten in a long time, which I’m sure it was, because Rod is amazing.”
“No, no, no.” Priya waved a hand. “Back to the moaning. You can’t skip the best part.”
I blew out a breath and ran a hand through my hair. I needed a cut. It was falling into my eyes.
“I was standing right there and he just—” I made a sound that was supposed to approximate Chase’s moan but came out more like a dying animal. “Like that, but better. More . . . sexy.”
Mark was trying not to laugh.
Priya had given up and was actively cackling.
Jacks looked confused but supportive.
“So he liked the burger,” Mark managed.
“No, he loved the burger.”
“And even after he told you to ride him like a mule, you still didn’t flirt.”
“He didn’t—”
“Finn.” Priya leaned across the bar and grabbed one of my hands. “You must do better. Think of the baby gays. You are their role model now, and that man just walked into your bar, ordered food, and is sitting twenty feet away from you. Do this for the children.”
I reclaimed my hand and covered my face, moaning.
“There!” Jacks straightened. “You can go moan at him. Talk his language or whatever.”
Mark doubled over while Priya covered her mouth and turned away.
“I hate all of you. Seriously.” I set the glass down and picked up another. “He’s working. I’m working. It’s not the right time.”
I glanced over at Chase’s booth. He was staring at his papers with the intensity of a dessert sun, eating the burger with one hand while making notes with the other. He looked focused and professional . . . and adorably rumpled.
“See? He’s busy.” I motioned toward Chase’s table.
“So talk to him when he’s done eating,” Mark said. “When he’s paying or about to leave. Just . . . talk to him.”
“And say what?”
“I don’t know. ‘Hey, I’m glad you liked the burger. Come back sometime.’ Simple.”
“That’s not flirting; that’s customer service.”
“Write your phone number on his check,” Jacks suggested.
“Yes!” Priya added. “With a little heart or butterfly.”
“That’s not gay at all,” I muttered while rolling my eyes.
“Hello, gay bar and gay boy.” Priya winked.
“Finn, I swear to God—” Mark shook his head.
“I’ll figure it out,” I said quickly. “When he’s done eating, I’ll say something casual and normal and not weird.”
“You promise?” Priya asked.
“Not weird might be a stretch for you,” Mark added.
“Not helpful, Mark.”
Jacks grunted. “But not wrong.”
“Fuck all three of you with a baseball bat,” I snapped.
Priya raised an eyebrow.
Mark grinned.
Jacks cocked his head. “A baseball bat? That’s a little big, even for me.”
“Oh, God,” I said, throwing my towel on the bar and storming off toward the kitchen. I didn’t need anything from the back, but Rod had to be better company than the three idiots crowding my bar.
Twenty minutes later, I’d eaten an entire batch of fried plantains while listening to Rod describe the process of a perfect sear on meat.
The way he talked about cooking reminded me of the unmistakable sound of background music in bad porn.
I returned to the front to find Mark seated on the customer side, shoulder to shoulder with a giggling Priya, while Jacks stood, hands on the bar, flexing his triceps like he was being judged.
“Aw, poodle,” Priya crooned. “I’m sorry.”
“Um, okay. What did you do?”
Mark bumped her shoulder, and she giggled again.
“Your boy left,” Jacks said.
My head shot up faster than a midget being fired out of a cannon.
Chase’s table held an empty plate, a drained beer bottle, and a few folded bills.
“He dropped some cash and left,” Mark explained unnecessarily.
“He looked up here,” Priya said. “But he didn’t wait for Mark to go over. He just gathered his papers and left.”
My head fell. I hadn’t planned to take the guy home or anything, but I had hoped to chat a little.
“Guess all he liked tonight was the burger,” I said, sounding even more pathetic than I felt.
“Oh, sweet pea. Don’t be sad.” Priya’s voice dripped with sympathy. “Maybe he’ll come back.”
I stared at the empty table, then shrugged off my disappointment and wandered over to clean the mess.
Chase had left forty bucks, almost double his tab.
I picked up the pair of folded twenties and shoved them in my apron.
The plate had been so thoroughly cleaned I wondered if Chase had licked the sauce off it.
When I grabbed the beer bottle, the paper napkin stuck to the bottom.
I pulled it off and started to wad it up when blue script made me smooth it out against the table.
Sorry I had to run. I was falling asleep at the table and tomorrow morning’s going to suck. The burger was almost as great as your smile.
Almost.
Chase