27. Justin
twenty-seven
From: Chloe
To: Justin
Subject: Follow up
Hey
Today was fun!
Cassandra was asking for names of the dish(es)… What do you think?
Anything else you need from me? Do we need another prep session?
Let me know…
PS My cell number is in my signature line.
Chloe
I enter her number in my phone, then hover my finger over it, wanting to call her. To hear her voice. To know how she’s doing.
No, we don’t need more prep. I took pictures of our notes in her notebook, I’ll place orders with my vendors on Monday.
We’re all set. Nothing more needed.
I do want to answer her, though. Engage her. Continue the conversation.
Maybe I should just stick to email for now.
“Two Heady Toppers and a Sip of Sunshine,” Haley announces. She wipes her forehead and assesses the crowd outside. “What’d I tell you? After the Fourth, it always picks up.”
I look out to the sidewalk where our tables are full. Inside is getting packed as well.
“How’s the restaurant doing?” I ask like I don’t care, while I pour her first two beers.
“They’re slammed too. Those cute little tables are working. Even Chloe is on the floor.”
And yet she finds time to email me… Something funny moves in my stomach.
“Being open on the Fourth was a good call,” I say like I don’t really care, when I’m bursting with pride at Chloe’s resourcefulness. A lot of locals attend the parade, and they got to see another side of the restaurant—an approachable side.
“Where were you earlier? It got a bit crazy here for a minute,” Haley asks.
“I had shit to do. For the fair.” I set the two beers on her tray and start on the third.
“Oh right. Why’d you have to do this on a Saturday?”
I shrug like I have no idea. Like this was never in my control. “Cass said so.”
“Cass?” Haley frowns, seeing straight through my bullshit. Cassandra is the opposite of a micromanager. She’s actually great at suggesting to people what the end result should be and nudging them to figure it out on their own.
I set her Heady Topper on her tray and grab a rag. “Beers are getting warm,” I growl at my sister.
She rolls her eyes, balances her tray, and leaves.
‘Even Chloe is on the floor.’
I want Chloe to be successful. Not so she can pay the rent.
For her.
I’ve seen what she’s capable of in a kitchen, and sure, that doesn’t make her a chef, but that makes her a restaurateur. Someone who understands how the end result should be. Someone who would be fantastic at gently guiding a young chef, or, why not, a team of cooks with manageable egos into producing quality food without any fuss or drama.
Damn, her food was good. Great.
And her mouth. Fuck! Her mouth. My finger on her plump lips, her hitched breath… I’m getting a hard-on again.
If Alex hadn’t come in, who knows what would have happened.
I need to get that shit under control. I can’t go there with her.
Or with anyone.
“Hey, man.”
“Uncle Justin!”
I jump at the familiar voices.
“Are we interrupting some daydreaming?” a third, teasing voice adds.
Chris and Alex are standing on the other side of the bar, watching me with amusement, while Chris’s daughter, Skye, darts to the hallway leading to my office, where she knows she’ll find Moose. When we’re full of tourists, he knows to retreat to the back, where his presence is not a health code violation. When it’s slower and mostly locals are around, my dog plops himself next to the door so people can get their daily dose of canine loving.
“Heard you had a productive morning,” Chris says as he pulls a stool out for Alex.
“I guess.”
“Oh yeah,” Alex says as she pulls out her phone.
Chris is standing next to her, boxing her with his arms on either side, his chin on the top of her head. He can’t get enough of her since they’re back together, and I get it. I totally get it.
I know the feeling.
“Holy shit,” Chris says. “That the new girl?” He cocks an eyebrow at me.
A slow grin spreads on Alex’s face.
I set my hands flat on the bar. “What can I get you guys?”
“W-w-wait,” Chris says. “You never said anything.”
“About what?” I look at Alex, mildly alarmed. Is Chris about to say something sexual and highly inappropriate about Chloe in front Alex? What is he thinking?
“About how you can’t keep your hands off her?”
I huff. The hell is he talking about?
“Or she’s checking you out every chance she gets?” He points at Alex’s phone.
Shit. Really? “Knock it off.” Pretending like he’s just pulling my leg, I go to the other side of the bar to fill an order for a couple who’s just arrived. But seriously? Now I can’t wait to see the video.
“Don’t worry, I’m editing those parts out,” Alex says when I return, her fingers flying on her phone. “There. All gone.”
My stomach bottoms out. What did she just do?
“Babe,” Chris growls, stifling laughter. “That was just plain cruel.”
Wait. Did she actually delete those parts or is she pretending she did only to test me?
“Two Arnold Palmers, a Bees Knees, and a Thyme Will Tell,” Haley calls out. “Hey, guys! What’s up?”
Alex’s answer is to show her the phone.
While I mix her drinks, I brace for the worst.
“Uncle Justin,” Skye’s little voice pipes in, “may I please have a grilled cheese sandwich and—”
“And French fries. Already placed the order with Shane, sweetheart.”
She hoists herself on a barstool, a big grin on her face.
I finish up Haley’s drinks, then set a Shirley Temple for Skye on the bar. Haley hands the phone back to Alex and takes her tray without a word. I risk glancing at her. I was expecting a lot of ribbing. All I get is tight lips, rosy cheeks, and laughing eyes.
But she says nothing to me, and that tells me I should be concerned.
I’m just not sure about what.
“When are we tasting all that stuff?” Chris asks.
“What stuff?”
“Your food for the fair. You’re not gonna go blind, are you? Let’s do a tasting.”
I rub the back of my neck like that’s a complication I could do without, when since I’ve read Chloe’s email it’s all I’ve been wanting to do.
A repeat session with Chloe.
But with people around. No wandering hands. Or thoughts. “I guess that’s an idea,” I finally drop. Inside, I’m like a kid in a candy store. We’ll do this here, in my pub. It’ll be just Chloe and me in the kitchen. In my kitchen. “Sure,” I add with a shrug.
The following Tuesday, Chloe is in my pub, in my kitchen, in fucking shorts and a tight tee on account of the heat in and out of the kitchen. “Did you see the videos Alex made of us? They’re so cute!”
I did see the videos—the unedited ones. Alex sent them to me right after leaving the pub, the other day. There’s over an hour of footage, maybe two—and I watched it all. And might have zoomed in. And might have sought and found release. More than once. “I haven’t really paid attention.” I hand her a chef’s apron, but it does nothing to make her less attractive.
“Right, course,” she says, seeming disappointed. “What are we working on today? Why did you need my crew to come in later?”
I get to the walk-in cooler and hand her containers. “A practice run. I had the kitchen here make those preps following our recipes. That’s how we’ll do it for the fair. Most of the stuff will be made in advance here at the pub, by Shane and his team. We’ll shlep everything down to the fairgrounds the day of. We’ll just heat up, fry a couple things, assemble. Basic stuff. You and I’ll do that today to get our sea legs, and then we’ll have a bunch of people taste and give us their opinion.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders tighten and her face closes up.
“It’s gonna be fine.” I hand her the meat container. “We’ll reheat that and keep it in a chafer today. I’ll be borrowing food warmers for the fair. It’ll be similar. The main thing is the mise en place. It means setting out every ingredient in advance and logically on your workspace so you’re not scrambling when an order comes in.”
“I—I’ve never done this before. I’m not—I’m not—”
What is she talking about?
She lifts panicked eyes to me.
“The hell is going on?” I say softly. Hell, I do want to take her in my arms, and we’re just getting started.
“I’m not qualified!” she blurts. “These are… professionals,” she adds with a sweeping motion of her hand.
I pour the meat in a large pot, cover it, and set it on the range at low temp, then get a chafer ready and turn the deep frier on. “Right. And neither am I. I learned by watching, and that’s what you’re doing too. We’re both restaurant owners lending a hand so we can run our businesses in two places at the same time. See, I love Cass and all, I really do, but the thing she doesn’t realize with the fair, is that we all need to split ourselves in two. It’s not like we’re going to close our restaurants while the fair is going on.
“But you know who knows that? Our staff. And they appreciate that we’re stepping in, taking on something that’s not glamorous so they can continue to do their jobs and the town can have even more visitors. So believe me when I tell you, there will be no judgement on their part. Only encouragement. And let me just finish by saying, there’s nothing kitchen staff appreciates more than to put their feet under the table and enjoy a meal they had no part in preparing. Especially if their boss is doing the cooking.”
Color tints her cheeks. “Okay. I guess.”
“Besides, you’re an awesome cook.” I set up the herbs and chopped veggies and brioche buns on a prep table.
She doesn’t protest. At least there’s that. Then after a long silence where she seems lost in contemplation, she whispers, “Thanks.” Then she whips around and blurts the weirdest thing. “Saffron.”
“Huh?”
Her eyes are like saucers, like she’s confessing to some crime. “The maple glazed veggies on herbed quinoa. It was saffron. Not turmeric.”
Of course it was her. Warmth spreads through me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Her throat bobs. “I was embarrassed.”
Embarrassed? What the fuck?
“You were going on and on about how good that dish was, and only after that did you ask who made it and at that point I was just overwhelmed,” she blabbers.
“You’re not good with compliments,” I say, stating the obvious.
“You said other embarrassing things.”
I did? “What’d I say?”
She waves my question away. “It was in the heat of the moment. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It matters to me.”
“Oh. You said something about how the person who made it… I don’t remember your exact words, but it was something about love, and well, it got a little embarrassing. For me. You know, if I’d said something at that point.”
I set the chilled gazpacho on a prep table with the small shot-like containers next to it. “Grab that ladle there and set it over there?” Once she does, I ask her, “Why was it embarrassing to you? It was a compliment.”
She shakes her head. “It’s silly… I just… just took your compliment to heart, and I figured everyone would see right through me if I said anything. You know, like, they would see that we shared… a moment in Boston, and I know that was totally me extrapolating, but that was how I felt, and I couldn’t help but be panicked at the idea. I didn’t want to upset you any more than you already were.”
“Upset me?” She’s making no sense at all.
“You were super upset at me for showing up at your pub, and I know the whole rent mess wasn’t helping my case, but well, when I saw you, I figured it out.”
“Figured what out?”
“Why you were so angry at me. It wasn’t just the rent. It was mainly because you thought I wasn’t holding my end of the promise we made in Boston. So I just wanted to clarify, your secret is safe with me.”
“My secret?” I can’t believe what she’s saying right now. The reason for my No Name, No Number rule was that I didn’t want any complications. No expectation of any sort of follow-up ever happening. And certainly no assumption of any commitment of any sort. Not because I was hiding something from the gossips here.
“Well, you know, Bost—”
“It’s not a secret what I do on my trips,” I say, and immediately regret it when I see the hurt shadowing her face, quickly replaced by a brave yet tight little smile.
“Oh, good,” she squeaks, then clasps her hands and says, “Should I check if anyone’s there? It’s noon already.”
Thirty minutes later she’s laughing out loud as she’s retelling the story of how she pretended to want us to serve salamanders.
“He thought I was serious!” she hiccups, her gaze briefly crossing mine before settling on Alex, who’s finger-feeding Chris. Those two can’t keep their hands off each other now that they’re back together and there’s no reason for them to hide their relationship.
“I would’ve believed you,” her server Abby says. “You’re capable of anything,” she adds with admiration.
“Remember when our POS stopped working?” Shoshana asks around. Chloe’s front of house staff starts telling a story that happened when she was just starting out, while Chloe shrugs it off, laughing a bit.
She’s back from the freak-out moment she had in the kitchen, and I can’t say that it doesn’t mean something to me that she shows her vulnerability to me. I’m fucking proud that her staff thinks she’s this badass boss who isn’t afraid of anything, and I know deep down she is that.
But it rocks my world that she shows me another side of her. She showed her true self to me in the elevator, and she never put up that wall again. Not with me. And what am I supposed to do with that?