Chapter 4
Carmello
Now
I lower the burner on the stove so the sinigang can slow cook while I’m in my meeting and realize my hands are shaking.
Sometimes the tangy smell of the tamarind calms me down, but not today.
Olivia’s text messages from last night are still working my nerves, and now I have to face her for the first time in a decade.
The kitchen door swings open, and Steven stands there scanning me from head to toe for the first time in our working relationship.
He’s five years older than me, and sometimes when I tell him what to do in the kitchen I get the feeling he wishes I’d shut the hell up.
But I ignore his passive-aggressive tendencies because he’s the best assistant chef I’ve ever worked with, and he’s Filipino American so he’s more familiar with the food than anyone else I could’ve hired.
He points his nose to my pot of sinigang. “It smells extra sour. Did you add too much tamarind? I’m not trying to hear any complaints from customers today.” I shoot him a look and he takes pity on me. “Whatever. But uh…there’s a girl sitting at the bar waiting for you.”
I realize I never texted Rachael back yesterday. “Did she tell you her name?”
“Nope. Just said she has something to talk to you about.”
I twist the knob to lower the burner to the right level three times before I’m satisfied to walk to the door and see who it is, but then my alarm goes off.
“Can you tell her I’m not here?” I ask. “I’ve got a meeting in two minutes.”
Steven’s eyebrows meet in the middle. Then he mutters, “Got it, boss man,” before exiting the way he came.
When I close the door to my office and sit down, I wonder whether I should apologize for sending him back out there, especially with a lie.
I feel even worse after a few minutes because Olivia hasn’t signed on for our Zoom meeting, so I really could’ve done it myself.
Old feelings resurface, and my brain jumps to an instant replay of all the random times she was proven unreliable. Why’d I even attempt to…
Suddenly, her name loads on my computer screen, and while her video is still black, I straighten my spine.
My stomach clenches. I can’t lie, I’ve checked out her Instagram a time or two, but I never thought I’d see her again face-to-face.
When the video clicks into focus, there she is with her long hair dyed a rich shade of blond since the last time I internet stalked her.
The color complements her golden-brown skin.
She’s wearing one chain around her neck with a small heart dangling from it, honey-colored eyes bright as they focus on me, full mouth lifting into a smirk.
She was gorgeous when we were younger, but she’s grown even more stunning with age.
I’d never wish bad on anyone, but that she looks like this is unfair.
“Hello, Carmello,” she says. “You’re late for our meeting.”
“Uh…Come again?”
“I said you’re late.”
And then I hear it, an echo, the sound of familiar music filling her space. She adjusts her camera, and the warm orange walls behind her make me suck in a sharp breath. I blink and run a hand over my face, but she’s still staring back at me.
“Where…” An exhale. A beat. “Where are you, Olivia?” With the pendant lights that I handpicked hanging above her head, the question sounds stupid out loud. But there’s a slight chance that she’s somewhere in the world at a place that looks similar to my place.
The slightest chance. Which she squashes with a radiant smile.
“I’m sitting at the bar in our restaurant,” she says. “But I heard you’re not here.”