13. Indiana
THIRTEEN
INDIANA
I haven’t stopped visually stalking Salem since he walked in with Lowen. Seeing him chatting and laughing with my friends has my stomach twisting in knots. It’s rare that a guy I’m messing around with even meets them, much less hangs out. It’s kind of… nice.
But the realization that he’s entangled in two aspects of my life is sobering. When this comes to an end—and it will—I can only hope he’s as well-adjusted and detached as he claims to be. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been duped, banging away for months of carefree orgasms only to have a clinging, needy mess on my hands proclaiming their love for me. A shiver runs down my back. Fuck, don’t let Salem be like that.
From what I can tell so far, he seems authentic. He was willing to walk away on the first night, which is a good sign. I’ll have to get the rundown from Lowen on how their time together went. He’s a good judge of character.
“Since you’re all here,” Oakley says, “this is a good time to discuss the renovation. I don’t recommend trying to live there, especially since we’ll be tearing up your kitchen too. ”
“Oh.” Lowen pulls his phone out of the stylish bag he has slung across his body. “I found a few short-term rentals we can check out.”
“I have an idea,” Kit says, and I can already tell from the grin on his face that it’s going to be wild. “Me and Rid went down to the basement a couple of nights ago. It’s… rough, but doable.”
Ridley nods, finishing his bite of linguine. “It’s a big open space but it’s in good shape. There’s a bathroom down there as well as the one on the main floor. You said it’s a couple of months tops, right?” he asks Oakley.
Oakley nods. “Barring unforeseen issues.”
“Which there always are,” Lowen says, his brow creased. “How rough is rough?”
“Too rough for you, princess.” Kit winks. “But maybe you could slum it with us for a few weeks. We’ll bring the mattresses down and we can hang sheets from the ceiling if anyone needs privacy.” Kit’s eyes turn to me.
As if I’m fucking around with Salem like we live in dorm rooms again.
“I thought we could save money that way,” Ridley says. “I know we have a good budget right now for everything, but it goes fast, and we’ll have operating expenses to consider when we open.”
I nod. “Good point, Rid.” There’s only two of us in this room with an abundance of cash, and I’m not one of them. “I don’t want you and Low doing all the heavy financial lifting for us.”
Lowen looks as if he’s going to be sick. “I’ll consider it.”
“We can start tomorrow,” Oakley says. “Or the following day if you guys want to move stuff.”
“Two days sounds good,” Ridley says. “If everyone else is in?”
We all mumble our agreement as we finish up the meal. Lowen grabs my arm.
“Hey, I have two guys from the city coming in at three to interview for the chef position.”
“Yeah?”
“They’re both coming in from New Onyx. Salem found one through some contacts he has and one answered an ad I posted on a business website. They both come with recommendations and support from their current head chefs.”
“Why would someone with a good job in the city come to Willow Bay?” Jerryn asks.
“Competition,” Lowen answers. “They’re both sous chefs, but getting to be executive chef in a city like that is very hard. They can come here and be the star.”
“That makes sense,” Jerryn says. “Who’s interviewing them?”
“I thought Kit and Indy should do it,” Lowen offers. “Indy because this place was his idea and Kit because if they can get past him they can work with all of us.”
Kit scrunches his nose. “Thanks?”
Lowen chuckles. “It’s a compliment, you tool. You’re very critical with strangers, and that’s a good thing when hiring.”
“I’ll take that.”
“We should have them cook something,” Bane suggests. “You can be a great person, but if your food sucks, what’s the point?”
“I’m all over that,” Lowen says. “I told them to bring a menu concept and a dish they can prepare in advance since our kitchen is down.”
“Not Lowen’s first rodeo,” Ridley says.
“I’ve had a few catered dinner parties in my day.” He releases a wistful sigh. “Anywho… three o’clock.”
“I’ll be ready.” I lean a little closer. “Got a minute? ”
“Of course.”
The two of us walk outside, away from the chatter and clanking of tools. I can still see Salem chatting with Bane, Jerryn, and Kit. He looks excited, waving his hands around as he speaks and laughing periodically. Damn, he’s beautiful.
“What’s up, Indy?”
“Oh.” I turn my attention to Lowen. “Sorry. I wanted to know what you thought of Salem since you spent time alone with him. You always have a good read on people.”
“Usually,” he drawls, obviously referring with disdain to his ex. “Salem is… delightful. He’s smart and curious and obviously wants to do well here. He had good ideas about some of my vision for the place. I like him.”
“I sense some hesitation in your voice. What are you holding back?”
“Nothing.” He feigns an innocent expression, but I know him too well to buy it.
“Come on, Low.”
He glances over his shoulder then leans against one of our new columns for the patio structure. “I don’t really think it’s my place, but I guess my lack of poker face is betraying me.”
“Yep. Spill it. Is he psycho?”
Lowen chuckles. “No. He’s sweet and funny.”
My brow creases. “Are you attracted to him?”
Lowen rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Indy, of course not. He’s like an adorable little brother. He’s a less jaded version of me.”
“Okay, so?”
Lowen puts his hand on my chest. “Hear me out, okay? Before you get all defensive.”
I pull my head back slightly. Where is he going with this? “I’m listening.”
“Salem is…” He blows out a breath, like he’s about to tell me terrible news. “Perfect for you. ”
I tilt my head, replaying the sentence. “What?”
“Indy, he’s perfect for you. How many times have I ever said that to you?”
“Zero times.”
“Exactly. Granted I haven’t met every person you’ve dated, but I’ve met the ones you kept around for a while, and I always knew, just like you did, they wouldn’t last.” He moves his hand off my chest and holds my hand. “But there’s something about Salem that feels right when I think about him and you as a couple. I’ve honestly never pictured you settling down, but I would love to see it happen.”
“I’m really fucking confused about where this is coming from. You went on a shopping trip for a few hours and came back thinking I should settle down with him? He doesn’t want that anyway.”
“I know. Even better, right? You’re both cautious and have your eyes wide open. It’s beautiful.”
“Okay, back up a little.” I scrub my hand over my scruff. “What did he say or do that has you convinced he’s the guy for me?”
Lowen shakes his head, smiling. “It’s a vibe. Like you said, it’s the way I felt in his presence. Not for nothing, but you practically trip over your own feet when he’s around. That’s new.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t plan to say anything. You’re both big boys and can figure it out yourselves, but I have my fingers crossed that you’re finally going to feel Cupid’s stupid arrow straight to the heart.”
“That doesn’t sound remotely enjoyable.”
“Not everyone’s relationships crash and burn. Don’t use me as an example. Unlike you, I got swept up in something I knew in my core wasn’t right for me. You won’t make that mistake.”
“Even if you’re right, it’s not gonna happen. We’re both committed to keeping things casual. He doesn’t want a relationship either.”
A bright smile spreads across his face.
“What?”
“Oh nothing. Just something about famous last words comes to mind.”
“Shut up, Low.”
He rises on his tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “I love this for you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Lowen chuckles as he goes back inside. I stay on the patio for a few minutes, collecting my thoughts and replaying what he told me. Salem catches my eye, lifting his eyebrow and mouthing, Are you okay?
I nod, smiling, but inside I’m wondering whether that’s true. I barely know Salem, but his allure is undeniable. I wouldn’t know how to navigate a potential relationship if I tried, and knowing Salem won’t initiate it either leaves me at a loss.
I guess this is one of those play it by ear situations. All I know for sure is that I need more of him. That’s enough for now.
At exactly three o’clock, the front door opens and two men enter, both of them with an air of arrogance that seems fitting for chefs competing for the same position. Kit immediately sizes them up with his discerning gaze, while I launch into greeting them.
“Hey. I’m Indy Hart, co-owner.”
They glance at each other as one steps forward first with his hand extended. “I’m Teddy Moore.”
Teddy is an imposing man, exceeding my own height by at least two inches and my weight by twenty pounds of muscle. He’s covered in tats from his neck down as far as I can tell, and has numerous facial piercings. He’s almost bald except for a stripe of bright green hair down the center of his scalp. He’s carrying a large bag and wearing his chef’s coat.
The other man offers his hand. “Wren Clark.”
Wren has sweet eyes countered by the serious expression and rugged jaw. He’s not tall at all, and not muscular, but there’s something about him that still reads as strong and tough. He’s ginger, Ridley’s kryptonite, but he also has black tips in his hair that give him sort of a dark angel vibe. His arms are covered in tattoos, but rather than a chef coat, he’s wearing jeans and a simple blue t-shirt. Teddy’s vibe is in your face, while Wren’s is more subtle but just as vibrant.
“I’m Kit, another co-owner.”
Both men shake Kit’s hand. We decided earlier to give them a quick tour of the place, introduce them to the others, ask a few cursory questions, and taste the food.
As we tour the kitchen, Teddy fires questions at us about equipment, refrigeration, and hiring staff, which at least shows he knows what he’s talking about. Wren, on the other hand, is quiet for the most part, simply nodding and observing.
Back out in the main part of the restaurant, Kit and I introduce the two chefs to the others. No surprise, Ridley practically swoons over Wren’s red hair. A moment later, Salem comes out from the office, pausing as he sees us all standing near the bar.
“Wren?”
“Salem.” The chef’s face lights up. “Holy crap, man. How are you?”
I watch with simmering jealousy as Wren and Salem hug it out. They chit chat for a few seconds, and when I glance at Teddy, he looks deflated .
Salem clears his throat, taking a step closer to me. “Wren and I worked together before he took off for greener pastures in the restaurant world.”
“We were in the same training class,” Wren explains. “Six weeks.”
Salem chuckles. “Good times.”
“And a small world.”
“We should try the food,” Lowen interjects. “Teddy?”
“Sure.” He stands and unpacks his bag, setting out two silver foil trays and a few plastic plates and cutlery. “I went with a classic American menu, but updated and slightly elevated.”
He opens the first foil tray, revealing what looks like mac and cheese. The second tray is filled with wings with some kind of glaze on them. He dishes out portions for all of us, including Wren, who happily takes the plate.
I dig into a wing first, noting the moisture and the ease the meat comes off the bone. The sauce is sweet with a hint of spice. The mac and cheese is good but not a standout. As I glance at the other guys, they seem to be enjoying it, but Lowen picks at the wing, clearly not interested in getting his fingers sticky from the sauce.
Wren eats two wings and all his mac and cheese. “This is good, man. You work at Lux, right?”
“Right,” Teddy says, exuding confidence. “Which is French, of course, but I’m versatile.”
“So am I,” Kit mumbles, making me huff a laugh.
“Wren?”
Wren nods, opening his insulated bag. He pulls out two trays and a bowl, along with actual dishes and cutlery. Nice touch.
In the bowl is a salad of some kind, and in one of the trays is a meat and vegetable dish. Finally in the last tray is pasta. He pulls out a baggie of toppings and a small container. We watch him mix the salad and toppings. As he prepares things, he explains his menu.
“I went with a concept of appealing to different groups—college kids, a more discerning crowd, and locals. Since your name is based on Moby Dick and your target clientele are queer folk, I titled my dishes as such.”
He tosses the salad and puts a small portion on everyone’s plate.
“This is an entrée salad with a simple vinaigrette aimed at health-conscious eaters, or for those hot summer days when you want something light to eat. I’m calling it Captain Ahab’s Salad and it can include seared tuna or not.”
Before handing out the plates, he scoops some of the pasta onto our plates. It’s in a white sauce with rotini pasta and something green in it.
“This is Call Me Ishmael.” Wren smiles. “It’s a creamy pasta dish made with a bechamel, sautéed spinach and shallots, and rotini. For an upcharge, customers can add a grilled or breaded chicken breast.”
From the final tray, he spoons some of the meat and veg on our plates.
“This is simply grilled meat skewers served with grilled vegetables and couscous. I’m playing around with calling it The Crew since it has a variety of ingredients.”
Wren passes out the plates, standing back with a simple smile.
“I also have a burger planned called the Moby, but it’s best served hot off the grill,” Wren explains. “It’s going to have a burger patty, bacon, ham, two cheeses, avocado, and an onion relish. Customers can make it a Moby Dick and add seared tuna. It’s over-the-top, but the college students will dig it.”
Ridley is shoveling the food into his mouth and gazing at the quietly confident chef the whole time. I have to admit, he went the extra mile with his menu concept and thinking about our potential clientele.
“With a nod to the queer undertones, I was thinking of bacon wrapped dates on the appetizer menu called Pequod, the boat’s name.”
Kit chuckles, scraping his fork against the plate to get the last of the pasta sauce. “Clever. Do you call this menu style anything?”
“Eclectic American,” Wren says. “It’s bar food meets casual dining meets contemporary American.”
For me, this is a no brainer. The food is better, the menu is thought out, he knows Salem, who seems to like him—which honestly bothers me a little—and his vibe is a little more approachable. We still need to do our due diligence though.
“We have a few questions for each of you. Separately.” I set my plate down. “Teddy, we can start with you.” I approach Salem, immediately aware of the heat between us. “Is the office suitable for an interview?”
“All tidied up, boss.”
“Any red flags I should know about with Wren?”
He shakes his head. “He’s quiet at first, but once he’s comfortable, he’s pretty funny.”
“Thanks.” Before I walk off, I have to know. “Did you guys fuck?”
Salem laughs, rolling his eyes. “Gah, Indy. For being the hottest man on the planet, the jealous streak is a little ridiculous, but I’ll humor you. No. We’ve never even flirted. Last I heard, he was locked down, and he’s not my type anyway.” He pokes my chest. “See exhibit A.”
I nod, humbled. He’s right. I’m acting ridiculous, but no way am I hiring a guy who had his hands on Salem. I’m not gonna even try to unpack why.
That’s a challenge for another day.