Chapter 8 - Maya
One month and two weeks later
I still can't believe this is my life.
I'm standing in Juniper's kitchen on a Sunday afternoon, our only day off, watching Levi plate roasted chicken with herb butter while his grandfather Jim argues good-naturedly with Owen about the proper way to make biscuits.
The dining room is filled with the people who matter most: Jenny and the servers, Tommy and Marcus from dish, Ivy curled up next to Owen with a glass of wine, and my mom sitting at the best table by the window, beaming with pride.
This was Levi's idea—a family meal to celebrate two months of successful service and to properly introduce me as his girlfriend to the people who matter.
Because apparently, we weren't fooling anyone.
It lasted exactly one week after that night in the kitchen before Jenny cornered us during prep and asked point-blank if we were going to share our news or if she should just start taking bets on when we'd finally come clean.
"You two aren't exactly subtle," she'd said, grinning at our matching expressions of horror.
"Levi smiles now. Like, actually smiles.
And Maya, you've been glowing for a week.
So, either you're going to tell us you're together, or we're all going to keep pretending we don't notice the way you look at each other. "
Levi had looked at me, and I'd looked at him, and we'd both started laughing because of course everyone knew. We worked in close quarters, spent hours together every day, and apparently our attempts at professional distance during service were completely transparent.
So, we'd told them. Gathered the staff after close that night and explained that yes, we were dating, and no, it wouldn't affect anyone's job or the restaurant's operations. We'd been prepared for judgment, for concern about the power dynamic, for someone to have an issue with it.
Instead, Jenny had whooped and announced she'd won the betting pool because she'd guessed it would take us less than three weeks to get together.
There was a betting pool. About us. That I didn't know about.
"Earth to Maya," Levi's voice breaks through my reminiscing. He's standing beside me now, close enough that our shoulders brush, holding out a spoon. "Taste this sauce before I send it out?"
I take the spoon and taste it: butter and thyme and lemon, bright and rich at the same time. Perfect, like everything he makes.
"It's delicious," I tell him.
"Not too acidic?"
"It's perfect, Levi. Trust yourself."
He gives me that soft smile, the one that's just for me, and steals a quick kiss before returning to plating.
We've been careful about PDA in the restaurant during service, keeping things professional in front of customers.
But today, with just family and friends, we can be ourselves.
And that apparently means Levi stealing kisses while plating chicken and me trying not to turn into a puddle every time.
"Maya, sweetheart, can you grab the rolls from the oven?" Granddad Jim calls from across the kitchen. "They should be just about perfect."
"On it!"
I've gotten close with Jim over the past month. He's everything Levi said he was. Gruff but kind, proud of his grandsons, and absolutely delighted that Levi found someone who "gets the restaurant business and doesn't mind his grumpy ass." His words, not mine.
I pull the rolls from the oven, golden brown and brushed with butter, filling the kitchen with that incredible fresh-bread smell, and transfer them to a basket lined with a clean kitchen towel.
"Beautiful," Jim says, inspecting them. "You've got good instincts, girl. Levi's lucky to have you."
"I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one," I say honestly.
"You're both lucky and both idiots," Owen chimes in, walking into the kitchen with empty wine glasses. "Ivy needs a refill and wants to know if the food is almost ready because she's 'starving to death.'" He grins. "Her words."
Levi snorts. "Tell her five more minutes. And stop letting her drink on an empty stomach."
"I'm not 'letting' her do anything. Have you met Ivy? She does what she wants." But Owen's grabbing the wine bottle anyway, his expression soft in a way that makes it obvious how gone he is for her.
I know the feeling.
The two brothers work side by side for a moment, Levi plating while Owen refills glasses, and I'm struck by how comfortable they are together. They have that easy sibling shorthand, and can communicate with looks and half-sentences.
"You two are sweet together," I observe.
"We're not together," Owen deadpans. "I'm dating Ivy, remember?"
I throw a dish towel at him and he dodges, laughing.
"Alright, alright." Levi claps his hands once, surveying the completed dishes. "Let's get this food out before Ivy actually does starve to death."
We work together to carry everything to the dining room: platters of roasted chicken, bowls of roasted vegetables, the basket of fresh rolls, my apple galettes that have become a permanent menu fixture. The table looks incredible, like something out of a magazine.
We did this. Levi and I, together.
Everyone settles into their seats, and I find myself between Levi and my mom. She reaches over and squeezes my hand, her eyes suspiciously shiny.
"I'm so proud of you, baby," she whispers. "Look at everything you've accomplished."
"Mom, don't cry. You'll make me cry."
"Too late." She dabs at her eyes with her napkin, laughing. "I'm allowed to be emotional. My daughter is living her dream and dating a wonderful man. Let me have this."
Levi's watching us with that content expression again. When he catches my eye, he mouths, "You okay?"
I nod, smiling.
Granddad Jim stands, raising his wine glass. "Alright, everyone. Before we dig in, I want to say a few words."
The table quiets, all eyes on the older man.
"A month ago, my stubborn grandson finally opened the restaurant he'd been dreaming about for years.
I'll be honest, I was worried. Not about his talent, that was never in question.
But about whether he could make it work here, in a small town, after spending so much time in big cities.
" Jim's gaze lands on Levi, warm and proud.
"Boy, was I wrong to worry. Juniper's is everything June would have wanted.
A place that brings people together, that makes them feel special, that serves food made with love and respect. "
Levi's jaw tightens with emotion, and I slip my hand into his under the table. He squeezes back, hard.
"But what I'm most proud of," Jim continues, "is that you didn't do it alone. You built a team, you trusted people, and you found someone special to share it with." He raises his glass toward me. "Maya, we're lucky to have you. Welcome to the family, sweetheart."
"To Maya," everyone choruses, raising their glasses.
I blink back tears, overwhelmed by the warmth and acceptance. A month ago, I was just a kitchen helper hoping to prove myself. Now I'm sitting at a table surrounded by people who've become like family, dating a man I'm falling in love with, living a dream I barely dared to imagine.
"Thank you," I manage, my voice thick. "All of you. I never expected... this is more than I ever hoped for."
"Get used to it," Jenny says with a grin. "We're keeping you."
"Damn right we are," Tommy adds, and Marcus nods enthusiastically.
Levi leans over and kisses my temple. "Told you everyone would welcome you with open arms."
"You did." I turn to look at him, at this man who saw potential in me when I barely saw it in myself, who challenged me to be better and trusted me with his vision. "Thank you. For everything."
"Thank you for taking a chance on a grumpy chef with control issues."
"You're getting better about the control issues."
"Only because you keep calling me out on my bullshit."
I laugh, and he kisses me properly this time, not caring that everyone's watching. When we break apart, Owen is making exaggerated gagging sounds and Ivy is smacking his arm.
"Can we eat now?" Ivy asks.
"Please, everyone dig in," Levi says, gesturing to the food.
The table erupts into motion: platters being passed, serving spoons clattering, conversation flowing.
I watch my mom try the roasted vegetables and close her eyes in appreciation.
Watch Jenny and the servers argue playfully about which dish is best. Watch Owen and Ivy feed each other bites and look disgustingly happy about it.
And I watch Levi, who's watching everyone else with this expression of quiet contentment.
"You did good," I tell him softly.
He turns to me, eyebrow raised. "We did good."
"We did good," I amend.
"Better." He slides his arm around the back of my chair, and I lean into him, feeling utterly content.
The meal is incredible. Of course it is, Levi made most of it, but it's the company that makes it special. Stories are shared, jokes are told, and at one point Granddad Jim launches into an embarrassing tale about eight-year-old Levi trying to make breakfast and nearly burning down the kitchen.
"He used an entire stick of butter in the pan," Jim says, laughing. "Thought more butter meant better pancakes. Didn't understand why they were smoking."
"I was eight," Levi protests, but he's grinning. "And in my defense, Grandma June always said butter makes everything better."
"She did say that," Jim agrees fondly. "She also said to use common sense, which you apparently lacked that morning."
"I have plenty of common sense now."
"Debatable," Owen interjects. "You started a restaurant in a small town in the middle of nowhere."
"Blackwater Falls isn't the middle of nowhere."
"It's two hours from anything resembling a city."
"That's the point. It's home."
Something shifts in Owen's expression. "Yeah. It is."
The brothers share a look, some wordless communication passing between them, and I'm reminded that they both left this town and both came back. That home means something different when you choose it instead of being stuck with it.
"Tell them the news," Ivy says suddenly, nudging Owen.
"What news?" Levi asks.