Chapter 6
“Order up!” Benjamin gave himself a moment to bask in the satisfaction of a dozen dishes, all plated at the same time, as the wait staff pulled them off the line. He’d have to give his cooks an extra thank you at the end of the night.
“The church ladies are asking for you, Chef,” a long-time waitress named Vicki grinned at him. “Every Thursday night, like clockwork.”
Benjamin glanced over his shoulder at his sous chef, Chloe.
But she made a face. “I’ve got the kitchen under control. You go.”
Benjamin laughed. “You know they don’t bite.”
“No. Worse. They matchmake.”
Benjamin waved off the comment. “You just have to know how to handle them.”
He pulled his apron off and hung it up, then pushed through the kitchen doors and strode down the short hallway to The Depot’s dining room. He paused a moment at the edge of the large space, letting his eyes wander over the tables filled with laughing, talking people, all enjoying his food. He recognized at least half of them.
When he’d first left River Falls for culinary school, it had been with grand aspirations of going off and making a name for himself as a chef somewhere else—preferably somewhere that people wouldn’t constantly be comparing him to his older brothers. He loved them all dearly, but they were hard names to live up to, especially in a town this small, where everyone knew everyone.
But when John, his sister-in-law Ireland’s brother, had offered him the head chef position at The Depot, it was too good to turn down. It was unheard of for someone so young to become a head chef—a role Benjamin would have to wait years for otherwise. He’d reasoned that after a few years of experience here, he could move on to bigger and better things. But the truth was, he wasn’t even sure he wanted that anymore. He liked running into people he knew every day. He liked being close to his family. He even liked the church ladies and their sweet—if meddlesome—comments about his love life.
He made his way toward them, stopping at a few other tables on the way to greet his customers. He knew some chefs hated this part of the job, but he loved it. His mama had always said he was born talking and had never stopped.
“There he is.” Mrs. Richter waved her fork at him, her wrinkled cheeks crinkling with her smile. “We were starting to think you’d forgotten about us.”
“Never.” Benjamin smiled around the table of six women who had attended Beautiful Savior since well before he was born and never missed Thursday night’s lamb chop special. “I was saving the best for last.”
“Oh, you’re a charmer.” Mrs. Alpine wiped her mouth with her napkin, her eyes sparkling. “It’s a wonder you’re still single.” She leaned closer. “How old are you now?”
“I turned twenty-three a few weeks ago,” Benjamin answered patiently, though he was sure they knew that already.
“He has plenty of time yet,” Mrs. Richter told her friends. “Kids these days don’t settle down so early, you know.”
Benjamin nodded appreciatively.
“Oh, but I have a feeling he’ll be settling down soon,” Mrs. Simmons practically shouted from the far end of the table. “You’ve been seeing that pretty real estate girl, haven’t you? My daughter saw you two bowling last night.”
“I— Uh—” Benjamin prided himself on rarely being at a loss for words, but he wasn’t sure two dates qualified as seeing someone—and certainly not as being about to settle down. Still, if he said yes, it would shut down any potential matchmaking attempts. “We’ve been on a couple of dates,” he finally admitted.
Mrs. Simmons looked satisfied, and the other ladies nodded their approval.
Benjamin subtly changed the subject by asking them about their children and grandchildren, then excused himself to return to the kitchen, promising to send out a special dessert.
When he got back to the kitchen, he let out a long breath and slipped his apron back over his head.
Chloe chuckled. “They finally got to you?”
“Nah.” Benjamin grabbed a spoon to taste the sauce she was stirring. “Apparently Mrs. Simmons’s daughter saw me bowling with Jasmine, so they’re convinced we’re seeing each other.”
“Well, you are, aren’t you?” Chloe reached for some basil, but Benjamin held up a hand.
“It’s perfect as it is.” He left her question unanswered, and she didn’t press, so he figured it must have been rhetorical.
He moved around the kitchen, checking dishes, making adjustments, putting in the order for the church ladies’ dessert.
But all the while, he tried to figure out why it bothered him that the church ladies thought he was seeing Jasmine. He’d been on two dates with her, and he’d had a nice enough time on both. Jasmine was sweet and smart. She told interesting stories about the houses she’d sold and the clients she’d met. She was reliable and compassionate. And the church ladies were right that she was pretty. But Benjamin couldn’t help but feel that something between them was missing.
It didn’t help that ever since that party he’d helped at, Summer had climbed into his head and refused to budge. He’d tried to push her out. After all, just because she’d felt perfect in his arms as they’d danced together, and just because she’d looked somewhere between hopeful and terrified when the girls had chanted for them to kiss, and just because the brush of his lips across her knuckles had sent a jolt through him ten times as powerful as a lightning strike didn’t mean he should ask her out.
For one thing, she had already broken up with him once.
And for another, she might be single again. But he wasn’t. Apparently, he was seeing Jasmine.
He turned that phrase over in his mind and decided it was apt. They were seeing if they were compatible with each other. Maybe the more time they spent together, the more his feelings would grow.
Yes, he was sure they would.
He approved the plated desserts and sent them on their way. He would text Jasmine as soon as he got home to see if she wanted to go out again. And to prove to himself that he was determined to give their relationship a chance, he’d bring her to dinner here.