Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
B randon had never felt more awkward than when he had to tell Cora’s father that she didn’t have time to talk.
“She’s in a meeting with management,” he lied. How could he tell someone she couldn’t talk when she took a break?
Her father’s face screwed up as he shook his head. He didn’t believe him. “Right, I should get going. Tell Cora to call me when she can.”
Brandon gave the man a nod and watched as Cora’s father’s whole body slumped off the stool and walked out the door.
When Brandon returned to the kitchen, he found Cora sitting on a bucket in the back, spinning her bracelet around her wrist over and over again.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I just want to go home,” she said.
“Go,” he said.
“It’ll be the one night Anthony shows up and wants to know where I am.”
Brandon doubted the owner would come, but she was right. He didn’t take pity on the staff ditching out on a Friday night.
“I can have Mia take your table,” he said, looking at the clock. The heaviest part of the crowd had dwindled by now. They’d be closing in less than an hour.
“I need the money,” she said, sighing heavily. “I’m off all next week for Madame Dubois’s collection opening.”
“Are you still not getting paid to work for her?” Brandon asked. He knew Cora had been interning forever at the designer’s company, but didn’t she get paid by now?
“No, but I’ve got two designs in her collection,” she said. “No one else in the city designs and creates fabric like she does.”
Cora covered her face with her hands, and Brandon worried she might cry.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Brandon pulled another bucket over and sat next to her. As soon as he got close enough, he could smell her perfume, the delicate fragrance now permanently ingrained in his subconscious. He reached out and put his arm around her, and she sank in perfectly like she always did when he allowed himself to get this close to her.
“I’m seriously so done with all the men in my life,” she said, disregarding Brandon.
He almost laughed at himself as he squeezed her. She had no idea how in love with her he was. Sometimes, her complete ignorance hurt worse than the rejection he might get if he revealed his secret.
“We’re not all bad,” he reminded her. “Those two, in particular, might be, but not all of us. I promise you.”
“Sorry, I’m so emotional,” she said, rolling her eyes but catching a tear about to fall. “I’m just freaking out because it’s my show this week.”
Brandon didn’t understand what Cora did with fabrics, but he knew enough to know that it was more than just creating fabric; it was more like art for her.
“Can I come by the show and see your pieces?” he asked, hoping she’d say yes.
“I’d love that,” she said, shaking her head again, her eyes elsewhere. “I can’t believe my father had the nerve to come here tonight.”
“What did he want?” He couldn’t remember a time her father had come without needing something.
“The usual request for childcare.” Her words came out harsh. “And apparently, my wicked stepmother’s uncomfortable about going to my sister’s wedding.”
He groaned at that. How could a father do that to his child? His own father would move heaven and earth for him and his siblings.
“What’d you say?” he asked, hoping she’d stuck it to him.
“Basically nothing.” She shook her hands out hard. “Ugh!”
She stood up, pacing back and forth suddenly.
“And now I have to deal with that jerk!” Cora threw her hand out toward the floor of the restaurant.
“Cora.” Brandon stood up, blocking her line of pacing, and looked her in the eyes. “Let me take the table. I’ll give you the tip. Don’t worry.”
She started shaking her head. “No, I can’t make you take my table. I’ll be fine.”
“Cora,” he said again. “You shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable here, ever.” He made her look at him. “Even if you know them. This is your workplace. You should feel at peace. Let me take care of that table. You just take care of yourself.”
A worry line developed on her forehead, and she twisted a loose strand of hair with her finger. A habit she had when she was thinking. She let out a heavy breath. “Okay, thanks, Brandon.”
And without warning, she hugged him. He froze at first, then embraced her and held her there for as long as she let him.
When she stepped away, she gave him a half-smile. “I appreciate you.”
“No problem,” he managed to get out, but his heart thumped as his hope grew. He needed to push that all down.
When the order was ready, he walked out with Mia. He got a full view of Julian Abbott when he came out of the kitchen. He recognized his exact type. Since Giovanni’s sat in the heart of the Financial District, he saw it often: dinner suit, eye-candy girlfriend, and an ego bigger than the Prudential building.
Brandon set the plates in front of the correct person, and the woman wrinkled her nose.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t order fish with the green stuff.”
“That’s parsley, ma’am,” Brandon said. “It’s a garnish on the dish.”
“I told her to write it down, remember?” the woman spoke to Julian. “Remember how she didn’t write it down?”
“It’s fine,” Julian said, looking at her plate of fish. He started picking off pieces of chopped parsley with his fork.
Brandon looked around at the thinning crowd. At this time of night, it was mostly the bar crowd. There were not too many tables left, but with Brandon’s luck, he’d probably have a food critic in the dining room.
Brandon pulled the plate out from underneath the fork. “I’ll bring you a fillet of salmon without the green stuff.”
He handed it to Mia, who hadn’t stopped staring at Julian since they’d arrived at the table.
“Just extra virgin olive oil,” she said, picking at the tablecloth with her sharp, manicured nails. Then she lifted her eyebrows, not changing her dead expression, and added, “Maybe write it down this time.”
Brandon gritted his teeth as he kept a smile on his face. “I’ll be back.”
“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Julian said. “You can put the plate down. It’s perfect the way it is.”
Brandon didn’t listen. He knew enough to make the angry customer happy, who’d write a negative review, rather than a guy who seemed unable to handle women very well.
“I’ll be back,” he said, walking away from the table. He looked back to see Mia still lingering around the table. “Mia.”
“Oh, right,” Mia said, dashing away from the table and following him.
Brandon cooked a new salmon as fast and bland as he could, even though he didn’t usually cook. He whisked it off the stove and rushed it out of the dining room to an empty table.
“They left.” Mia checked herself out with her phone’s camera.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, looking down at the fish.
“They literally just left.” Mia pointed to a black sedan with a driver opening the door for the couple outside the restaurant.
He sighed at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. “Did they say why?”
Mia shrugged. “I don’t know. They just left.”
He returned to the kitchen, threw the fish into the trash, and dumped the plate into the sink.
“They’re gone,” he said to the spot where Cora had been sitting, which was now empty. “Cora?”
Mia walked into the kitchen as he said Cora’s name.
“She was the one who left with the guy,” Mia said.
“What?” Brandon couldn’t believe it. “Cora left with the guy?”
Mia nodded. “Yeah, he went to the bathroom while you were cooking, and they ran into each other. The woman saw them kissing, apparently, and stormed out. Then Cora said she was leaving and left with the hotty businessman.”
“They were kissing?” Brandon couldn’t wrap his head around this. “She just hated him a minute ago.”
“Love and hate are two very similar emotions,” Mia said.
If this had been any other employee, he would have told Anthony, which would have led to suspension or worse. But this was Cora, one of the hardest-working servers he had on his team. She always gave her best work, day in and day out. The customers loved her, she got along with everyone, and she had—up to this point—been one of the most reliable workers he had.
“Who is this guy?” Besides her soon-to-be brother-in-law’s brother?
“They dated back in the summer, I think?” Mia started eating a french fry.
“Does she still have any open tables?” he asked, hoping she hadn’t been that irresponsible.
Mia shook her head. “I told her I’d take her tables.”
He threw up his hands. “Why didn’t you start with that?”
Mia shrugged and went off to another table.
But before he left for the night, he asked Mia one last time. “She was kissing him? At work?”
Mia nodded, not understanding the ramifications of patronizing the customers at work. He should write her up or, worse, let her go. If Anthony found out he’d let this slide, he’d be cooked himself.
“Hey, Mia, let’s not bring this up to Anthony,” he said, hoping she could keep a secret.
Her eyes softened the way they did when she felt sorry for him. Mia often did when it came to Cora. She held up her hands. “Not my business to tell.”
“Thanks,” he said, pretending not to notice the look she was giving him.
“She’s being an idiot if you ask me,” Mia said.
No one was asking her, but he wasn’t going to get into it with Mia and have her spill his other secret, which was that he was in love with Cora.