4. Leo
LEO
Trouble.
I was in so much fucking trouble.
I didn’t know—until last night—how intertwined my days would be with Eliza’s.
It would be fine, though. It had to be.
I tried not to think about how easy it was to be around her last night, how we picked up the conversation like no time had passed.
It’d always been that way with Eliza. The more I got to know her, the more confident I was that she was too good for my brother.
I didn’t know what led to their breakup—I never asked, and he never told me—but I had to imagine part of it was her coming to the same realization.
But that was on the list of topics I wasn’t touching, including anything about Eliza’s sex life and her “curse,” although I stood by what I said last night. There was no way in hell that guy would’ve broken her sex curse. No way. Also, a curse? What the hell did that even mean?
You know what. Never mind. I didn’t want to—and shouldn’t—know.
I turned my attention back to my final stack of boxes to unpack, which was mostly clothes, records, and books, when my mom called. I answered and used my shoulder to keep the phone against my ear while I continued unpacking.
“Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”
“Hey, hon.” My mom’s warm voice filled the line. “I’m good. Just wanted to see how you’re doing. Are you getting settled in? Are you excited? When’s your first day?”
“Mom.” I laughed as she fired off questions. “Breathe.”
“I know,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m just happy for you. I mean, I know it isn’t what you wanted—but I think this will be better. I think it might be exactly what you need.”
I doubted that, but if thinking that made her happy, I wasn’t going to burst her bubble.
“I wish things had worked out differently,” I admitted, “but I think this will work out in its own way.” For now, at least.
“It’ll definitely work out,” she said confidently. “You have life back in your voice. Your old job…” She trailed off.
I furrowed my brows, setting the books back in the box and grabbing the phone in my hand. “What about my old job?” And what about the life back in my voice? I’d never heard her say that before.
She sighed. “I don’t think you were happy, Leo.”
I parted my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.
“I know you loved that job and saw your career heading that way, but it was…chipping away at other aspects of your life. I never said anything, because I knew how much you loved it, but I’m so glad you’re trying something different.”
“That’s just part of the job, Mom.” I ran a hand through my hair, my body tensing. “The hours are long and irregular. There’s nothing I can do about that. I know what I signed up for. I was happy—I am happy.”
Silence filled the line before she spoke up again. “I’m glad you’re happy. There’s nothing I want more.”
“Anyways,” I sighed. “Now that I’m closer, what do you think about having some help getting the house fixed up so you can sell it?
I can help with some of the repairs or get contractors hired?
” I offered. I wanted to go up there first to see what we were working with.
I imagined there would be a few things I could help with—minor repairs, lawn care, and cleaning—but for bigger projects, we’d need to hire someone.
My mom stayed quiet on the other end of the line.
“Mom?”
“That sounds great, honey. I think…yeah, we should probably get some of those things fixed. But I don’t want to take up your time. You should focus on getting settled, starting your new job. I’m fine down here. Wait—isn’t Eliza down in Golden Falls? Have you seen her yet?”
“She is,” I said slowly, knowing that questions from my mom about Eliza were going to be harder to shake off. “She has a yoga studio in town and also bartends.”
“She opened the studio?” My mom beamed. “Last I spoke with her, she was still thinking about it, but that was years ago. Oh, that is one special girl. Tell her I say hi next time you see her. Or better yet, tell her to call me, just for a few minutes. I’d love to hear what she’s been up to.”
I couldn’t help the smile that came across my face. Even my mom hadn’t forgotten Eliza.
“I’ll, yeah, I’ll let her know. I should get back to unpacking, but I’ll come by one of the upcoming weekends to see you and the house. We can clean out the gutters and tackle the yard.” That had been one of the tasks I knew my mom didn’t have a chance to get to last year.
“You can just visit, you know. You don’t have to do something.”
“I know, but I want to.”
“Okay,” she said gently. “Get back to unpacking, hon. Try to relax a bit, too. And don’t forget about Eliza.”
I couldn’t even if I tried.
It was hard to explain what it felt like when I was in the kitchen, but the appreciation only grew with time. And I didn’t have to be cooking—simply being in a kitchen brought a sense of calmness and creativity.
When I stepped into the Lake Ridge kitchen earlier today, an excitement coursed through me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
An excitement for a new challenge. The kitchen had everything I’d need: prep stations, food warmers, gas ranges, state-of-the-art knives, and other tools I was eager to get my hands on. Wes had clearly done his research.
With the kitchen tucked away from the rest of the bar, there was a comfortable stillness in the air. Already, my mind whirred with ideas for the first menu.
I’d been itching to get back in the kitchen and lose myself in cooking. As much as I’d needed the days off—which passed by in a blur of unpacking and getting settled—I was ready to get back to cooking and meet the bar staff, especially after seeing how tight-knit the town was.
A lot of my enjoyment for cooking could also be attributed to the people. I’d worked with some incredible chefs who’d mentored me and made this job all the more enjoyable.
At Lake Ridge, I’d be working closely with Ray, a line cook in his early fifties who moved to Golden Falls about a decade ago. His dark hair had streaks of gray and so did his beard. He had tattoos on his arms and seemed to be reserved but friendly. We’d get along great.
It would be the two of us to start, but Wes made it clear I’d be able to expand the kitchen staff, assuming the spring went well. Wes was ready to give us the resources we needed to be successful, and I appreciated that.
Until now, Lake Ridge had been serving bar snacks—cheese curds, french fries, chips and salsa—that Ray prepared.
Wes, Ray, and I had decided earlier this morning when the three of us met that we’d start off with a limited menu that changed every few weeks. We’d do our best to cook with ingredients that were in season and sourced from local farmers and suppliers.
Food would be served Thursday through Saturday to make it manageable for our smaller staff and to allow us to take off Sunday to recharge.
Wes hired high school students to help with hosting and running the food, with plans to add in additional seasonal employees over the summer, which was the busiest time of the year.
One of the first steps was to create the initial menu then do a tasting for the servers and other staff so they were prepared to answer any questions from customers.
Ray and I were sitting in a booth toward the back brainstorming. Since it was early April, the local harvest season was only beginning.
“I’m thinking we create an early spring menu for most of April and then pivot to a late spring menu. When do things pick up around here with the tourists? Memorial Day?” I asked, flipping to a new page in my small notebook.
Ray nodded, a gruff grunt leaving him. “You got it. Most of this month will be slow, but I think the menu will bring more people in. Then come late May and early June, the town is completely different through the summer. Took me some getting used to, and it’s made me appreciate the quiet months more.
But Wes does a good job catering to both the tourists and the locals. ”
I nodded, jotting down notes. While Wes was forward-thinking in what he wanted Lake Ridge to be, there were also personal and historic touches that called on the bar’s beginnings.
“The menu should do the same, then. It should feel authentic and exciting both to people who live here but also those visiting.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
What I loved about local places like Lake Ridge that my last job lacked was making delicious food accessible to all. Having a special dining experience with people you cared about shouldn’t be tied to having money.
I’ve always wanted my food to bring people together, to be so good that you forgot to take a picture, because you were too excited to take a bite or too caught up in conversation with those around you.
“Is there something about Lake Ridge or how Mark and Laura started the place that should be reflected in the menu?” I asked, wanting Ray’s thoughts first before I asked others the same question.
The booth creaked as he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Wes would likely have more thoughts about that. But I liked what you said about the food being authentic but exciting. Maybe seeing what feedback people have or what food they’re drawn to could inspire future menus.”
I was about to respond to Ray when a smile crossed his face, and I swore the gruff, tattooed chef had a faint blush on his cheeks. Confused, I glanced over my shoulder, seeing a woman who looked to be around his age approaching our booth.
“Are you two working hard or hardly working?” she asked with a warm smile, giving Ray’s arm a squeeze. Her blonde hair, streaked with gray, was pulled back in a clip, showing off her tulip earrings. “Nice to meet you, Leo. I’m Louise. One of the bartenders.”
Louise already knowing who I was didn’t phase me, especially since the guys had told me about her last night. Wes had spoken fondly of everyone who worked at Lake Ridge but especially Louise.
I learned from Wes that she’d lived in Golden Falls for nearly her whole life and had been bartending at Lake Ridge for the last fifteen years. She was definitely someone I wanted to talk with before finalizing the first menu.
“Nice to meet you, too, Louise,” I said, stretching my hand out for a handshake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Louise let out a low whistle. “All good things, I hope. And whatever wasn’t good you can assume was gossip.”
“Only good things,” I assured with a laugh, which got a grin out of her.
“If ever you need to know which gossip is true or not, I’m your lady,” she said with a wink.
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
While I took a few additional notes down, Ray and Louise fell into an easy conversation. Setting my pen on the wooden top, I glanced around, seeing if I’d spot a familiar flash of dark hair.
“She doesn’t work on Mondays,” Louise said.
“Huh?” I asked, turning my attention back to her, not missing the amused smile tugging at her lips.
“Eliza,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s who you were looking for, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I was looking for her,” I defended, but by the look on Louise’s face, there was no point in lying to her. I was just curious about Eliza’s schedule and how much we’d overlap. “I just wasn’t sure if she’d be in today or not.”
“She’s part-time between the bar and her yoga studio. Her shifts are typically later in the week. You’ll see her on Wednesday, which is also our team meeting day. Well, you might see her before—it just won’t be at work.”
“Louise,” Ray warned.
“What? I’m just saying maybe you’ll run into her during a yoga class or at Lily’s café or in your apartment building. It’s a small town.”
“Right,” I said slowly. “I’m sure we will. We’re friendly.” Not wanting Louise or Ray to think Eliza and I were too friendly, I quickly added, “She dated my younger brother. That’s how we know each other.”
“Oh, really?” Louise asked with a sparkle in her eye. “The universe has a funny way of bringing people together, doesn’t it?”
“I, uh, I don’t—”
“Anyways, I should really get back to setting up the bar. Good talking to you two. Can’t wait to hear more about the menu.” Louise made a swift exit, not giving me a chance to say more.
I looked over at Ray, who shrugged, just as clueless as me.
I’d have to find her later and clarify that the universe wasn’t bringing anyone together. Especially not Eliza and me.