Chapter 22 #2
“A few minutes! Shane, I want to get to know him,” she protested.
I waved her off. “Worst-case scenario, we’ll invite him to our table. That’s what you do with chefs.”
“An excellent idea,” Nash agreed.
I immediately cut him off. “That was a joke.”
“It’s not a joke—it’s a brilliant idea!” he continued undeterred.
My mother’s eyes lit up. My father put his hand on her forearm reassuringly. “Honey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“But it was Shane’s idea,” she insisted.
“It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a joke!” I tried to defend myself.
“No way, Shane!” My brother grinned widely that I was afraid his grin would split his face in two.
I glared at him angrily.
“Why are you hiding him from us?” Nash couldn’t resist.
“Stop it!” Lorena was the only sensible person at the table.
“Thanks, Lorena!” I hoped that would end the conversation.
Sure enough, the four of them started talking about their schools, and I enjoyed not being the center of attention anymore.
“How are the students here?” my mom finally wanted to know.
I gave her a meaningful look. “Take a look around,” I whispered. “The people around us are my customers.”
She perused the guests out of the corner of her eye. “Oh!”
I chuckled. “It’s not that bad. There are a few special cases everywhere. But my last ski safari, which I got back from today, was cool. Everyone followed the rules and my instructions. They had fun in the evenings, but the next day everyone was fit again and we arrived safely.”
“You’re happy here?” my father wanted to know.
“Of course.” I picked up a mushroom from my plate. “It’s a great place.”
Nash leaned back in his chair with a satisfied hum. “The food is excellent.”
Everyone agreed with him. And, of course, he was right. I didn’t know if I had ever eaten so well.
“I think I should tell the chef.” Nash waved for a waitress.
“No!” I exclaimed immediately.
“I don’t know,” my father muttered.
“It would be polite to tell the kitchen how good the food is. It has nothing to do with anything else. It’s common courtesy.”
“Mom, not you too!” I scolded.
By the time I turned back to my brother, a waitress was already at our table. Of course. No guest had to wait a minute here.
“Could we speak to the chef, please?” Nash cooed.
The young woman hesitated for a split second, but immediately regained her composure. “Do you want me to send the head chef over right away?”
“No!” I interrupted them. Nash glanced at me in alarm.
“You, um, wanted to speak to the ma?tre d’. To praise the salad and the appetizer.” Ice-cold dread swept over me. And hot dread. I was a traitor. Hopefully, Ruben wouldn’t break up with me for ambushing him like this. This was a bad idea.
“Ah. Of course,” were the waitress’s last words, and she was gone.
Silence reigned at our table. I grumbled gruffly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed frantic movement. I turned my head slightly and saw Ruben in a black chef’s jacket and black pants rushing toward us. He ran his fingers through his hair. Judging by his tousled strands, he had just taken his cap off his head.
When our eyes met, his brow furrowed, and he slowed down. He let his gaze drift over our table and tilted his head slightly, as if he wanted to shake it, but decided against it at the last moment.
He stood next to me and nodded politely at my parents with a smile. “Good evening. You wanted to talk to me?”
I grabbed his hand and kissed his fingertips. “Hey. Good to see you. My brother is full of shit.”
“Hey!” Nash protested. “I wanted to tell you, Ruben, that this meal was the best I’ve ever had!!”
“Hello, Ruben!” my mom continued, as if Nash hadn’t said anything. “The food is delicious, but to be completely honest, we have to admit that we wanted to get to know you.” She held out her hand to him. “I’m Beth.”
Ruben approached her with a somewhat jerky movement and shook her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
My dad did the same, and Lorena held out her left hand and smiled broadly. “Welcome!”
Ruben ran his hand over his head again. “It’s nice to meet you. Unfortunately, I am a bit worn out.”
“You look great.” No matter what time of day, no matter what outfit, Ruben always looked brilliant. I stroked his side, and Ruben glanced down at me.
“Hey!” It was one word between us. But as always, I wanted to pull him close to me. I gazed at him greedily. His work clothes, the concentration he had brought with him from the kitchen, the warm way he smiled at me—he was the complete package.
“Unfortunately, I have to get back to the kitchen. It’s pretty busy. But I hope we’ll have time to talk again while you’re here.”
“I hope so. Come to the bar when you’re done. We’ll wait for you,” my mom promised.
Ruben glanced at me. “Um. Let’s see. By the time I’ve showered and am ready, I’m afraid you’ll all be asleep.”
My mother pressed her lips together. “You’re right. After a shift like that, you need your rest. Shane, please try to find a time.”
Ruben squeezed my shoulder lightly. I quickly got up. With my heart pounding and without thinking too much, I hastily pressed a fleeting kiss on his cheek. Ruben glanced at the other guests in alarm.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him. “I’ll make it up to you.”
But he recovered from my action faster than I did. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his head. Smiling, he shook his head. “It’s okay. See you later.”
When I sat back down, four smiling faces beamed at me.
“What?” I asked, grinning back.
“Nothing,” Nash said and turned back to his food.