Pretty. He thought it was pretty when I pouted. It felt like my entire chest lit up in response.
“C’mon, I think it’s time we cut the cake,” he said, and led me back to the main room - still with his arm around my shoulders.
The warmth of him pressed against my side, the weight of his arm, the firm muscles I could feel against me - I thought all about it later that night as I was lying in bed. Oh, God, yes, I imagined him picking me up and lifting me against the wall easily, making me whimper and moan for him, telling me to spread my legs for him…
But I couldn’t just waltz in and seduce him like I’d originally planned. No. Michael still saw me as too young, as a child, and he was still dealing with the loss of his ex.
Well, that was fine. I could be patient.
I didn’t know the whole story about his wife, but I did know from the phone call I’d overheard that she’d been with Michael’s protégé. I’d met him a few times—Theo Simmons, almost ten years younger than Michael, early thirties, handsome, tattooed. You know, the works.
With the man he’d been training gone, Michael would need a new protégé, wouldn’t he? Someone who could be relied on, someone he could come to trust and care for.
But of course, that protégé would need to have gotten through culinary school - and how convenient, that’s what I would be doing.
Once I was a professional with training, once a couple of years had passed, after there’d been some time apart where he hadn’t seen me… Michael would come to see me as an adult. As someone he could care for, and someone he could be attracted to. Not a child, not anymore.
I was going to go after what I wanted, and I wasn’t going to give up.
1
Michael
It had been three years since Virginia and Theo had left me, and it hadn’t gotten any easier.
It was Tuesday, which meant time to balance the books. Once, that would’ve been a no brainer. My restaurant was ranked one of the top ten in the bay area, and I had clients from literally all over the world. This would’ve been a breeze.
But ever since Theo and Virginia…
It was the worst night of my life, coming into the house to find them fucking in my living room. Theo had tried to make some excuse about stopping by to see me, as if I hadn’t just walked in on him fucking my wife, as if I was stupid, or blind.
Well, I had been both stupid and blind, for months, not realizing what was going on between them. I had noticed that Theo was coming over to the house a lot more often, and that Virginia suddenly had a much bigger interest in the restaurant than before. But how was I supposed to - how was any person supposed to - I trusted both of them.
I wasn’t the kind of person who was paranoid about things. Not like that.
And now, ever since they’d left, things at the restaurant had been in the toilet. Now, I told Virginia to leave the restaurant alone during the divorce proceedings and she did, she was a woman of her word with that. But even so, Theo had managed to do everything possible to screw my business over.
I think the reason was that it wouldn’t reflect too well on his new celebrity chef dreams to have me telling people that he had helped my wife to cheat on me, and so in every interview, he’d been saying these subtle little jabs, casting just enough shade on me and my career, my cooking, that over the years… business had dwindled.
That fucker. He couldn’t satisfy himself with taking my wife, ruining my marriage and breaking my daughter’s heart? He had to ruin my goddamn restaurant as well, the one fucking thing that I built with my own two hands from the ground up?
Brooke had been heartbroken about the whole thing all this time. I tried to cheer her up in every way I could think of, which was hard enough when I was struggling to even get out of bed some mornings. But she… well. Her mother didn’t just betray me. She betrayed Brooke, too.
Brooke was the sunniest, kindest, happiest person. Her whole life, she had been like that. Then it started to change after Virginia left. Her sweet demeanor cracked. She would get angry. Lash out. Not at me, never at me, even though there were times I might have deserved it. But at her boyfriend, at her classmates and friends, or just at the world in general. The only person spared any anger besides me was her best friend Stevie. I hadn’t seen Steve in three years, not since her and Brooke’s high school graduation a month after Virginia left.
Well, I didn’t think Brooke’s anger was going away anytime soon. The restaurant was in real danger of failing. Maybe I should’ve relocated, opened a new place, but I didn’t want to leave the city where I’d been for so many years and I didn’t want to leave the restaurant that was just as much my baby as Brooke was. My whole life was here and I liked it that way.
Besides. Starting over would’ve felt like giving up. Like failure.
So I took out a mortgage on the family home, but that didn’t do the trick. It felt like everything was falling apart. For the first time since I’d become a chef, I’d started to wonder if I should’ve stayed in tech. Virginia might have liked that better. Maybe she would’ve stayed with me, who could say. My tech job was lucrative, hell, shockingly so, it was how I had the capital to start my restaurant and it was why I’d been in the bay area to begin with, Silicon Valley being just a short bit away.
Or maybe it wasn’t that I should have stayed in the tech sector. Maybe I just shouldn’t have trusted Theo fucking Simmons.
He was fresh out of culinary school and I gave him his first goddamn job. I supported him. Encouraged him. I helped him blossom, I didn’t work him too hard, and I wasn’t too demanding. Didn’t micromanage him. I let him do his thing and gave him room to grow.
And man, had he grown. Theo had thrived and I’d been so damn excited for him. He was nine years younger than I was but he’d been my best friend. Like a younger brother. His menus were exciting, and we even got a Michelin rating.
I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to trust anyone like that again. Not as a chef, and not as a romantic partner. I got screwed over professionally and personally and I honestly didn’t know what to do next.
The was a knock at the door as I stared down at the numbers, wishing that I could just will them to be better.
“Come in.”
Brooke entered.
She looked more subdued lately. Brooke was never gifted academically, bless her heart, but she knew how to read people well and she genuinely cared about everyone. It was why everybody loved her. I knew that she could tell that I was feeling this was the beginning of the end.
“Sorry to bother you, Dad,” she said, walking in with a piece of paper in hand, “but someone wants to apply for the head chef position.”
I had to hold in my sigh. I’d been cycling through head chefs like a… well, like a mad man, I admit. I wanted to find someone with the same spark as Theo, the same passion and flair for originality. But I also wanted them to be someone that I could trust.
So far, nobody had measured up. Everyone just wanted to do the same thing that Theo did, or just wanted to work at the restaurant because Theo had worked there and they were hoping to brag about that. They’d been boring at best and dangerously incompetent at worst. And clearly none of them had a very high opinion of me, as if Theo had just sprung out of the ground a perfect chef, as if I hadn’t been the one to mentor him and guide him into becoming as good as he was now.
I took the resume and looked at it—and nearly dropped it in shock.
“Stevie?” I blurted out.
There she was, her name staring up at me. Stephanie Lake.
“She recently graduated from culinary school,” Brooke replied. She sounded so proud of Stevie. “She was top of her class, super talented. You remember how you taught her how to cook when she did sleepovers at my place? She always made amazing stuff. I’ve been her personal taste-tester when she prepped for exams and I promise you, Dad, she’s top notch.”
I hated to let my daughter down, but… “She might be top notch in school, but she’s still wet
behind the ears. She needs to find someone to hire her as a line cook or a sous chef, let her cut her teeth before trying on a head chef role.”
“Theo was fresh out of culinary school and you took a chance on him.”
“Yeah, and look how well that turned out.”
Brooke was more patient with me than I deserved, sometimes. She wouldn’t get upset, she would just sigh. “I highly doubt Stevie is going to seduce your wife, if you ever get another one.”
Ah, that’s the other thing—Brooke wanted me to move on and find someone else. Not right away, of course, but about a year ago she’d started hinting that maybe I should find someone who appreciated me. I knew she just wanted me to be happy again. But I just didn’t - couldn’t - what use was going out into the dating world, using websites and apps or blind dates from friends or even, God forbid, a matchmaking service?
I wouldn’t go bar hopping in hope to find someone, either. Not with the restaurant the way it was. And bars were exhausting. I’d had a lot of fun back in my day, feeling like a wolf on the prowl, but now, what was the point?
I didn’t want to just find another one night stand. I wanted someone I could genuinely care for, share my life with, and fat chance of that happening.
“She’s too young,” I replied, setting Stevie’s resume down. “She’s a good girl and she was always a hard worker but I just can’t take a chance on her.”
Brooke shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“You’ll tell her, then? Let her down easy?”
“Oh no. You’re telling her.” Brooke grinned at me. “I already scheduled an interview for you two.”
Of course she did. Brooke was a loyal person.
“She’ll be here in an hour,” Brooke said, starting to walk out the office door. “Oh.” She paused, her hand on the doorframe. “Be nice to her, okay? She’s always looked up to you. And she can’t possibly be any worse than the last guy.”
The last guy that I hired almost burned down the entire damn restaurant with his flambé. Yeah. Not something I wanted to repeat.
Brooke left, and I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. I hadn’t seen Stevie since her high school graduation and she’d… well. I’d been arguing with Virginia, who had been too busy with Theo down in LA to be there for her only child’s high school graduation. The graduation that we’d been prepping for, the one that had me up with Brooke going over her history, quizzing her on tests, the one that had Stevie helping Brooke with math and science on. The one that Virginia should’ve, of all times and places, been there for.
I’d been kind of losing my temper when Stevie had knocked on the door. I’d never been so grateful for an interruption. She’d tried to hide it, but I think Stevie overheard something, because of the sad look on her face. But she’d made a joke about having champagne, and had made me laugh, and that—I appreciated that. It was a kind and thoughtful gesture, no pity or I’m so sorry like everyone else was giving me at the time.
Stevie and I had always gotten along. Personality wise, she’d be a good chef. She was a little foul-mouthed sasspants, with a dirty sense of humor that she only really showed around people she trusted, and I’d secretly enjoyed it. She could get me to laugh constantly while I taught her how to cook - and she was whip-smart to boot, picked things up easily and followed orders well.
I’d always told Brooke not to swear like Stevie or I’d wash her mouth out with soap, but every time Stevie had come up with a new, colorful phrase like tap-dancing chucklefucks I’d had to work hard to hold in my laughter.
But this wasn’t about personality. This was about experience, and at twenty-one, Stevie was simply too young to be a head chef, especially at a failing restaurant that needed someone really stellar to knock the menu out of the park and bring us back from the brink.
I’d have to let her down easy.
2
Stevie
I was way more nervous than I ever expected.
All of my three years of hard work had been leading to this: to having a career that I loved, that was with the man I’d had feelings for since… well, it felt like since forever.
And to be honest, even before I’d had feelings for Michael, I had wanted to work in his restaurant. I would go there with Brooke and watch the chefs doing their thing, and we’d get to sample some of the food, and it felt like the coolest place in the world to me. I knew that the restaurant had fallen on hard times since the whole… divorce thing, and I wanted to make it be the place that it had been when I was a kid. That place that I’d loved so well. I just knew that I could convert it into that magical place again, for everyone else. I wanted people to see what I had seen in it, what I still saw.
Culinary school hadn’t been easy by any means. It had been a struggle to keep up. But I had worked my ass off and I hadn’t given up. That wasn’t who I was. I never gave up on anything that I wanted, not ever. Sometimes this had caused problems as a kid, like when I wanted a toy and my parents said no.
But when it came to things like my culinary career? It was a benefit. No matter how tough the going got, I was tough, and I got going. And now it had paid off - top of my class, baby.
I could’ve - and probably should’ve - applied for a position at a successful restaurant as a sous chef or something. A way to build my reputation and experience.
But I just didn’t want to wait. I wanted Michael, and I wanted to work at his restaurant, and I wanted to turn his life and the life of this establishment around. I wanted to work here. With Michael. At this place.
So why wait? Why would I go somewhere else when I could just go there and get started right away?
Now, though - now I had the interview. I was going to go in and see Michael for the first time in three years. And I was… well. Panicking? Is a strong word?
But yeah I was fucking panicking.
This could be the most important interview of my life. I couldn’t afford to screw it up. I also couldn’t screw up showing Michael that I wasn’t just a kid anymore. Romantically or professionally.
I spent forever in my room, going over my choices. The part of me that had been yearning for Michael’s touch ever since I was a teenager wanted to dress in more revealing clothes, but I wasn’t there for a date, I was there to get a job. I picked my best tailored dress pants, sensible shoes, and a blouse with a dark green tie that brought out my dark eyes and dark hair.
And, well, if the pants and the blouse hugged my curves nicely and showed them off, and I did my hair up… that was just fine, wasn’t it? Nothing wrong with adding a little hint of seduction to it all.
The entire drive to the restaurant, I coached myself in my head on my answers, how to show Michael that I was the person who could turn his restaurant around. I also practiced a few flirtatious things to say, ways to show him that I was available for the taking.
I used to do that all the time when I was little. I would daydream about marrying Michael, although of course being younger those daydreams included things like Brooke living with us and we owned two magical ponies.
Yeah, I know, laugh at me, I laughed at myself too when I remembered that. Magical ponies, fucking hell.
Of course, no offense to Brooke who was my dear friend and always had been, but now that I was an adult and actually understood relationships and all - I didn’t want her living with Michael and me.
I wanted him all to myself.
Also as much as I loved Brooke, I thought that living with her wouldn’t be a good idea. We were great friends but not quite compatible in a roommate situation. It was why I had been glad she’d chosen not to live with me while I was at culinary school, although her reason had been that she was going to be bringing boys home all the time and I needed silence to study which, was also totally fair.
Sometimes, I wanted to tell her - was so tempted to tell her - that Andy would jump at the chance for her to take him home. But Andy would kill me if I had told her that. So, I kept my mouth shut. Let my brother sort out his own romantic mess.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I was shocked to find that only three cars were there. Parking is usually a fucking nightmare in San Francisco and yet… huh.
When I got inside the restaurant, it was even worse.
So, my interview was in the early afternoon. Not a crazy busy time for restaurants. Some restaurants even closed during that time to switch over from lunch to dinner, if there was a big change in menu and restaurant setup depending on the meal. But usually there would be a few tables that still had people doing a late meeting or lunch, or who purposefully came later or earlier in their meal plan in order to beat the rush.
But here there was no one. Literally no one.
I saw two waiters lounging at the back by one of the side stations, chatting quietly, glancing at their phones as they polished silverware. I couldn’t blame them for relaxing. There was only so much sorting and buswork you could do in a restaurant—or in any job—before you just had nothing left.
Damn. I knew that things had been tough at the restaurant. Brooke had been telling me about it for ages. But I’d had no idea that it was this bad.
“Stevie?”
I turned and saw Brooke emerging from the back, waving. I grinned. “Hey, look at you, gorgeous!”
Brooke hugged me tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered. As if the waiters across the restaurant would be able to hear us. “We really need someone who’s got vision.”
“Yeah, I, um, fucking hell Brooke, is it always this empty? Or is this just a weird day?”
Brooke sighed, pulling back. “No. It’s like this all the time. Dinner customers have decreased by more than half. It’s just… awful. Sales are down every month.”
“Jesus fuck.”
“You can say that again.”
“Jesus fuck.”
Brooke glared at me and I winked at her. My foul mouth got me into a hell of a lot of trouble as a teenager, and Michael was the only one who let me say whatever I wanted. I always appreciated that about him.
Best Friend's Daddy (Forever Daddies Book 3) Page 2