Chapter 16 Naomi
The kitchen is too quiet.
And the shiny surfaces of the stainless steel counters stare back at me, judging.
"I think we need to order two more," Sonia's voice cuts through my thoughts, and her fingers snap like a drill sergeant in front of my face, demanding my attention. "Earth to Chef Medina."
I blink, dragging myself back from wherever I just was. "Hmm?"
She rolls her eyes and flicks my arm. "Are you gonna make me work for it, or are you gonna tell me why you're not yourself lately?"
"What do you mean?" I mumble, reaching for a ladle that doesn’t need reaching for. The silence between lunch and dinner has never felt this loud.
Sonia gives me a look, one that says I'm not fooling her.
"I'm serious, Naomi. You're like a zombie on autopilot these past few weeks." She leans in closer, her eyes probing. I feel myself starting to unravel under her gaze. I try to shrug it off, but it sticks to me like sauce on white.
It’s hard to let go of old habits, especially the ones that call for secrecy. And even though Sonia and I have been friends ever since my return to Sageview Ridge, I still have a hard time telling her certain things, the ones I want to bury.
Not Sonia’s fault. She’s been nothing but kind and understanding.
"It’s nothing really." The ladle spins in my hand like a security blanket. "Just one of those months," I lie.
Sonia snorts, unfazed, and takes a step back, crossing her arms.
"Fine. Keep your secrets." She pouts, but the sparkle in her eyes means she’s not letting this go.
I stand there, my arms heavy, wishing for a sudden phone call, an unexpected ingredient delivery, or a small earthquake. Anything to save me from this conversation.
"I can’t understand why you don’t talk to anyone," she whispers, her expression thoughtful. "We all knew about your dad, that he was sick, and we know about your brother and his troubles. We’re here to support you. You don’t have to try to be perfect all the time."
Sonia hardly ever gets serious. She’s bubbly and loud and extroverted. Customers and the crew love her for her positivity. I’m lacking in that department. I can cook, but I don’t have people skills. At least, not the ones that count in order to make it.
Out there, in the real world, every man I’ve worked with has taken any opportunity to tell me that.
Maybe that’s why I ran back here. Not because I was tired of big-city life or because home called for me.
I simply didn’t have what it takes to be doing all those fun things charismatic celebrity chefs are doing on TV.
You’re not interesting enough, Ms. Medina.
But I’m not ready to say that out loud in front of anyone. So, instead, I deflect with the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t think about. "Tyler kissed me."
My cheeks feel hotter than the oven at full blast.
Sonia doesn't react at first. Then she grins like I just told her she won a free trip to Vegas.
"That hottie from the band who came in a while back?" she murmurs, looking around even though there’s no one but us in the kitchen at this hour. "All tattoos and sad eyes?"
I nod.
"Your high school sweetheart?"
I nod again.
"Girl." She scrunches up her nose in delight, then leans in and asks, "And?"
"And…I kissed him back."
The smile that spreads across her face looks almost criminal. "What's the problem, then?"
The problem?
Where do I even start?
I fidget, trying to act casual, but my hands find their way into my apron pockets, my fingers tangled in knots. "I liked it," I say in barely a whisper, like I’m admitting to a felony. "Both times."
Sonia cackles, and the sound bounces off the shiny walls. "Well, duh. He’s a major eye candy."
"You don’t understand." My eyes dart to the door, making sure no one's within earshot. The kitchen's empty, but it feels like the whole world could hear me right now. "I shouldn't have. After everything that happened. After what he did."
"You know I wasn't in your grade. I don’t know the details."
"He left. After promising a bunch of stuff. I’m salty. I don’t want to get hurt again."
"You think he’ll leave again?"
"I know he will. He’s an attention whore who never cared about anything but his music.
" I’m not actually sure Tyler is an attention whore.
His behavior is the exact opposite, but I’m too angry at him to say anything nice.
It’s that strange female logic where even if the man is fine, we’ll come up with a fault just to make him sound like an ass in front of others, because we have an issue with him we haven't worked through.
"So you liked it?" Sonia mutters, tapping her fingertips over her chin.
"I didn’t tell you this so you could rub it in."
"I’m not." Sonia leans back against the counter, mischief dancing in her eyes. "He obviously liked it too. Right?"
"Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been following me around town for weeks."
"Why not use him and have fun, then ditch him? Sweet revenge for what he did to you."
My jaw drops. I stare at Sonia, half expecting her to say she’s joking, but she holds my gaze, waiting. The shock rolls through me like thunder, but it leaves a strange calm in its wake.
I could do that.
I could be the one to walk away this time.
"You’re serious?" My voice trembles at the end, but there's a note of curiosity I can’t hide. Sonia nods encouragingly, and it’s like she’s given me a key to a door I didn’t know I needed to walk through.
"Think about it, mami." Her grin softens into something almost like sympathy. "It's not like he doesn’t deserve it, is it?"
I’m thinking about it. Too much. My heart’s pounding in my ears, and it’s hard to tell if it's fear, excitement, or both. I bite my lip, suddenly lost in a daydream where Tyler’s the one left behind. It’s delicious. And terrifying.
The sound of the kitchen staff shuffling in from their break snaps me back. Pots clatter, and voices fill the space where secrets were just hanging. Sonia's still watching me, but now there's a knowing look on her face.
"We should go over the menu," I say quickly, my voice a shade too high. The moment's broken but not gone.
Sonia shrugs and gives me a nudge. "Whatever you say, boss." The noise swells around us, but it can't drown out the new reckless idea echoing in my mind.
The thought of using Tyler Brady and then ditching him has been spinning through my head all evening.
Later that night, after the dinner rush is over and I’m on my way to the parking lot, I’m already mapping out a plan on how to seduce Ty. My imagination knows no boundaries as I walk through the casino’s electric jungle.
I navigate the chaos, sidestepping a stumbling winner and dodging a waitress with a tray of rainbow drinks. It’s a weekend night and it’s extra busy, so it’s not unusual to see Koda Monahan’s sharp suit in the background. He’s standing near the high-limit poker room, surveying his kingdom.
He spots me immediately, our eyes meeting in the space above the heads of patrons. He waves me over, and I change my trajectory and move in his direction.
"Naomi," he greets me flatly. "How’s business today?"
"Pretty busy night for us," I reply, knowing full well that that’s not why he called me over.
"Come," he says, gesturing toward a quieter corner of the floor where the electronic hum and the chatter of visitors fades to a whisper.
I follow.
There, he takes a deep breath like he’s about to scold me, then shoves both hands in the pockets of his dress slacks. His face is set in a way that tells me this isn’t a regular social call. "Your brother is becoming unhinged." His voice is low, clipped. "He made a scene again last night."
I feel my spine stiffen. "Again?"
Koda’s eyes never leave mine. "We found him yelling in the parking lot, out of control. Blue Feather drove him home since Oasis was busy. I didn’t want to bother you."
The knot in my stomach twists tighter. "I’m sorry," I say, a little defensive and ashamed. It’s hard to meet his gaze, but I force myself to look up. "I’ll talk to him."
"Talk's not enough this time." Koda's words land like heavy stones, each one harder than the last. "Sooner or later, he's going to make trouble I won’t be able to smooth over. People are starting to talk."
I stand there, my arms crossed, trying to shield myself from the truth he's throwing at me. "He's…going through a rough patch."
"We all are. Losing a parent is hard. Trust me, I know. I lost my family when I was young. That doesn’t give me the right to lash out at others."
"I’m dealing with it."
Koda shakes his head, looking more disappointed than angry. "It's not getting better. It's getting worse." He pauses. The casino's bright chaos blurs around us, and all I see is the seriousness etched into Koda's features.
I take one breath, then another. They catch in my throat, stubborn and painful. "I’m aware," I finally admit, the words scraping out like broken glass. "I’m aware he’s a mess, and I'm grateful for everything that you do for us. I promise I’m trying to get him help."
"Have you thought about mental health programs for veterans? There are counselors, groups."
"I have, but he won’t even hear me out."
Koda sighs, and the sound is almost lost under the casino's relentless buzz.
"Listen to me, Naomi. You can't fix everything," he supplies, and there's a gentleness in his tone that makes it all worse.
"Don't let him drag you down too. At some point, you need to stop waiting for him to want to get better and give him an ultimatum. "
"How?"
Koda places a hand on my shoulder, a squeeze of understanding and solidarity.
"He’s got a good job. Good pay. Good benefits.
He’ll lose it all if he keeps at it. You've got a smart head on your shoulders. Use it to pressure him into getting help before it’s too late.
" He lets go and straightens his jacket, a businessman returning to business. "Let me know if you need anything."