Table for Two

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “Travis.” Evelyn was the first to speak, her innate good manners shining through. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

  “That’s a good site.” Gus reached out to shake his hand. “I always knew you had an eye for those things.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without Mal.” Which had the intended action of getting a response.

  She frowned at him. “Me? How? I mean, I’d heard that the owners were putting the property up, but I didn’t say anything to you.”

  “No, but it was your favorite restaurant in the city.”

  Julia cleared her throat. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that because we all know that La Petite Bouchée is Mal’s favorite restaurant.”

  “That’s right.” Mal was quick to jump in. “The Bouche is my favorite.”

  “I’m sorry.” Owen shook his head. “When did we start calling it The Bouche, and why?”

  Travis sipped his coffee. He knew he could bring them back around to topic, but they’d get there on their own eventually and he enjoyed being part of the general merriment. He’d had a good staff back in Aruba, but he’d been more boss than friend—and they definitely hadn’t been family.

  “I just thought I’d test it. Marketing purposes. So, no go?” Mal said.

  Owen and Julia shook their heads though Donovan seemed to be considering it. Grace appeared to be watching and absorbing everything, but rather than the Fords, her attention appeared to flick between Mal and him. Travis wondered what Mal had told her...

  Grace wasn’t glaring, there was no sharp twist to her lips that announced she knew about the woman in Aruba, but Travis still wondered. Owen had mentioned that Mal and Grace were friends and had only grown closer over the past couple of months. Travis would have expected Mal to tell her everything.

  Shame washed over the back of his neck at the thought. He pushed it away. Tonight was about moving forward, not looking back.

  “I think The Bouche has a certain ring,” Donovan said.

  “You are not renaming my restaurant.” Julia turned to scowl at her husband.

  Donovan grinned back. “Not officially.”

  Since his return, Travis had noted the change in Donovan—his attitude was far more laid-back than it used to be. Owen, on the other hand, was more serious. Their parents had changed, too. Gus was pretty much out of the business and had a new interest in growing vegetables, while Evelyn made sure those veggies didn’t take over the entirety of her flower beds. But what about Mal? How had she changed in the preceding year?

  Her dark eyes snapped as she jumped in to take Donovan’s side in the restaurant name issue. This made it a fair fight since Julia and Owen were standing strong. He saw a flash of the Mal he remembered, the humor that glinted around the corners of her mouth, the flush of confidence that colored her cheeks.

  She was still beautiful. But then Travis had always thought she was. He noticed she hadn’t taken any of the cheesecake topped with raspberries made by Julia, who was now arguing that though she may only be half owner of the restaurant, she was full owner of the name.

  Gus cleared his throat. “All right, that’s enough.” He might not have the bulk of the Gus of five years ago, but his authority still rang true. “You’re upsetting my Julia.”

  “You’re just taking her side because you’re afraid she’ll stop cooking for you,” Donovan said.

  Gus nodded. “Exactly right. Now stop fighting and let’s hear about Travis’s new restaurant.” He nodded at Travis and then stole a bite of dessert off Evelyn’s plate. Though he was now a year past his heart attack, the family remained vigilant so that he wouldn’t experience another one. Which meant his serving of a sliver of cheesecake had resulted in a gruff complaint and this pilfering of the considerably larger sliver on Evelyn’s plate.

  “I take possession at the end of the month.” Which was only a couple of weeks away. Just long enough to have the inspector write a report and confirm that the space was safe for use. “You’re all welcome to come see it anytime.”

  Travis meant the offer. He’d be happy to show any one of them the property if they were interested, but his eyes landed on Mal. And stayed there.

  Gus insisted on opening champagne for a toast and then there was coffee and tea. When they finally wrapped up the evening, the summer sun was beginning to set. As everyone wandered to the front, slipping on shoes, making sure they had purses and keys and wallets, Travis pulled out his phone to call a cab as they left the house.

  “Put that away,” Owen told him. “We’ll give you a lift.” He looked at his sister. “You drive right by my old place on your way home, don’t you?”

  “No.” Mal pinned him with a look. “You know that my route home goes nowhere near your old apartment.”

  “Huh?” Owen faked confusion. “I would have sworn that—”

  “Drop it, Owen.” Mal looked at Travis. “It’s fine. I’ll give you a ride.”

  Travis paused, phone still in hand, “You sure?” He felt as though he’d made some good headway tonight. He didn’t want to risk wrecking it all for an extra ten minutes together. Even if she would be in the car, unable to avoid anything he might ask.

  Mal simply headed down the front steps and signaled him to follow. Travis didn’t waste any time doing just that.

  He kept his silence until they crossed the Granville Bridge that took them into the downtown core. Then he turned to look at Mal. “You didn’t tell them, did you?”

  “Tell them what?” Mal’s eyes stayed on the road, but her fingers on the steering wheel tightened—the only indication that he was making more than idle conversation.

  “About us.” He’d known she hadn’t told Owen and could extrapolate that meant Donovan didn’t know, either, but he’d assumed she’d told her mother. But it had been evident from the moment he’d stepped through the door that Evelyn had no knowledge of exactly what had happened between them.

  “I told them that we broke up.”

  “But you didn’t tell them what happened.” She hadn’t told them what he’d done. “Why?”

  A small, barely there shrug. “It didn’t seem important.”

  “It seemed pretty important that night.”

  Mal brought the car to a stop at a red light. “It was important that night.” She didn’t say anything else and she didn’t look at him either, keeping her face forward.

  “And now?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Because I can’t help but think that you didn’t tell them because you hoped we’d get back together and you didn’t want them to hate me.”

  That drew a reaction. She pinned him with a long look, which he greeted with a smile. Yes, he was trying to rile her, but there was truth behind his words. And hope. If she was truly over him and them, she would have told someone, right? Taken his name in vain, cursed him to the high heavens and boiled an effigy in oil. Something.

  “I didn’t see the point.” The light turned green and she accelerated through the intersection. “And I thought you were good for Owen, but I’m beginning to see the flaw in that plan.”

  Travis leaned back against the seat. “And now I’m back and ready to make it up to you.”

  “There’s nothing to make up.” The scenery began to speed by a little faster.

  “There’s everything to make up and I plan to do it.”

  Mal pursed her lips and drove faster.

  “Mal.” But she didn’t look over and her spine was ruler straight.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about The Blue Mermaid?”

  The question caught him off guard, but he rolled with it. “I tried to tell you in the kitchen, but you had cheese to get out.”

  She did shoot him a look this time. “You had opportunity.”

  “I did.” He couldn’t deny that. “But
I felt like it needed a moment. I’d have preferred to pour us each a glass of wine and make a toast, but I took what I could get.” He paused. “You didn’t seem that interested over dessert, anyway.”

  “Only because I couldn’t believe you bought it.”

  Travis blinked. “Why? We always used to talk about buying it if it came up for sale.”

  “That was before.” She zipped around a car going the speed limit. “Things are different now.”

  “Not for me.”

  His words only caused her to drive faster, but Travis didn’t say anything. Mal was in control of the vehicle. “Just because things aren’t different for you, doesn’t mean they’re the same for everyone.”

  “I’m just asking for the chance to make things right.”

  “There’s nothing to make right.” She steered around the corner.

  Travis could see his building ahead of them. He only had a minute to make his case. “I’d love for you to come and see it.” He knew she wanted to. She’d loved The Blue Mermaid and the opportunity to get behind the scenes and see every part of it would be tantalizing. When she didn’t jump at it, he added to the temptation. “Maybe you could give me some advice on the renovations?”

  She pulled up curbside and stomped on the brake. “Don’t think you can win me over with renovation talk.”

  “But it was your favorite restaurant.”

  “I know it was my favorite restaurant.” She mimicked his tone. “But it’s you. It’s us.”

  “Ah. So you agree there is an us.”

  “Travis.” He knew she was going for a withering tone, but it just came out tired. His heart ached. He didn’t want her to be tired, didn’t want to be the cause of her sleepless nights unless he was lying in the bed beside her and they were only going sleepless for a good cause.

  “Just come by and see the place. You can keep your opinions to yourself, if you want.”

  Mal exhaled. “I’m busy.”

  “I’ll work around your schedule. I’ll even promise to feed you.”

  She looked at the steering wheel. “You should go.”

  Travis remained seated. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’re just going to sit in the car all night?” Her hair swung as she turned to face him.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Which he was pretty sure they both knew. Was assured of when she lowered her eyes. He was close, so close to convincing her. He knew it, he could feel it. “Just come and see it. You know you want to.”

  Her chin stayed tilted down. “This isn’t about what I want, Travis.”

  “Why not? It doesn’t have to be difficult.”

  “But it is.” Her dark eyes met his. “It is difficult.” He saw the jagged rise and fall of her chest. “I don’t want to ruin your relationship with my brother. You’re friends and I respect that, but I have to ask you to respect my relationship with my family.”

  “Which means?”

  “Which means you don’t come to family dinner. You don’t ask me to come and give opinions on your new property and you don’t keep showing up in my life.”

  Another man might have felt beaten down, certain that this was it. Their last goodbye and that after tonight he would never see her again, except accidentally, at which time they’d both pretend not to see each other and would change direction to ensure avoidance was complete. But Travis knew Mal better than that. “I’m scared, too.”

  “I didn’t say I was scared.” But she was holding onto the steering wheel as if it was a life raft. “And what do you have to be scared about, anyway?”

  “I belong to you, Mal. Whether you like it or not.”

  She took a deep breath but didn’t say anything.

  Travis reached out to touch her cheek. Her skin was so soft. He could stroke it all night. He satisfied himself with just a moment. “I’ll call you later.”

  She still didn’t say anything, but he felt her eyes on him as he exited the car and entered the building.

  * * *

  SHE WASN’T SCARED. And she wasn’t going to go and see The Blue Mermaid no matter how curious she was. At least, that’s what Mal kept telling herself.

  And what did Travis mean he belonged to her? Ridiculous. A person couldn’t own another and even if that were possible, she’d claimed no ownership. And she most certainly didn’t belong to him, if that’s what he’d been subtly implying. She was her own person and under the ownership of no one.

  But his words stuck with her and no matter how hard she tried to shake them, they kept popping up. She tried to go back to sleep, but it remained elusive, sliding just out of reach whether she tried grasping for it, squeezing her eyes shut and counting her breaths or attempting not to think about it at all.

  Finally she gave up and just went in to the office. If she was going to be awake anyway, she might as well put her time to good use. The building was quiet. No one else was in yet. As they worked in the food and beverage industry, the office kept slightly later hours than a traditional office. She probably had at least another hour before anyone else showed up.

  In previous months, she might have found Donovan in his office crunching numbers, but since his marriage he’d changed his hours to sync with his chef wife. So it was just Mal and her computer for now. She sipped the coffee she’d grabbed at the café near her building and battered at her computer keyboard, hitting the keys so hard that her fingers practically bounced. It didn’t make her feel any better. Her shoulders hurt and she swore she could count the knots along her spine.

  Not good.

  Once she heard the first sounds of other people entering the building, the ding of the elevator and low hum of conversation, Mal gave up trying to pretend that everything was fine and called Grace. Grace was generally at work early and Mal needed to talk to someone. She eased out a breath when she heard her sister-in-law’s calm greeting.

  “Are you calling to let me live vicariously through your exploits last night?”

  “No.” No, Mallory was not. There were no exploits, though her thighs trembled at the memory of Travis between them. “I was just wondering if you were working tonight.”

  “Oh.” There was a wealth of questions in the brief interjection.

  “Yeah.” And a wealth of answers in the brief response.

  “Then I am definitely free if you need some girl time.” Mal loved that about Grace. No doubt she had her evening scheduled, but she would rearrange if she was needed, without a question.

  “I wouldn’t say need.” Mal would say need, but it sounded so...needy. “I thought maybe we could go to an evening Pilates class and then dinner?”

  The pair often did so, though their schedules hadn’t meshed in the preceding week. Grace had been honeymooning and then making up for the work she’d missed, and Mal hadn’t wanted to intrude on her newly wedded bliss. But she needed to intrude now.

  “Of course.” Mal could hear the light tapping and knew Grace had entered the notation in her computer calendar. “See you at six.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Mal was about to hang up when Grace asked. “Mal, is everything okay?”

  It wasn’t, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell Grace that and she really wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it over the phone. “I’ll see you at six, okay?”

  “Call me if you need anything. Anything.”

  “I’ll meet you at class.” Just knowing that Grace was only a phone call away helped ease some of Mal’s tension. Enough that she was able to concentrate a little and answer the emails that had been sitting in her inbox since this morning.

  A few hours later, Grace was waiting for her outside the locker room, her blond hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her gym clothes looking like they just came from the dry cleaner. Even the piping on her shoes matched her
outfit, a pale blue with touches of grass green.

  Mal’s outfit reflected her own current mood. Unrelieved black from head to toe. Even her shoelaces.

  They left their shoes along the edge of the Pilates classroom and unrolled their mats without talking. Mal felt some of her nerves abate as she stretched, hearing the familiar murmurs of the class settling in around her, knowing that some of the tightness in her body would be gone by the end of the class.

  It was a hard session, but just what she needed, so when she and Grace changed back into their street clothes Mal was almost looking forward to the talk. It would be good to share, to get it off her chest and stop feeling as though she had to hide the truth from everyone.

  They headed to a restaurant nearby. They could have gone to La Petite Bouchée, the fine-dining restaurant owned by the Ford Group, or Elephants, or one of their other establishments, but Mal was taking no chance of running into anyone she knew. Most especially any other family.

  She barely waited for Grace to take her seat before she opened her mouth and said, “I slept with Travis.”

  Mal hadn’t meant to blurt it out quite like that. Too late now. Grace stared at her, the only indication Mal hadn’t been making banal small talk was a single elegant eyebrow quirking up.

  “So, yeah.” Which was really just a stellar follow-up to her blurting. Was it any wonder she handled all the media, marketing and other PR for the Ford Group brand?

  “And?”

  “And what?” Did Grace want details? Her cheeks flamed.

  “I assume you’re telling me this for a reason. Or are you just bragging?” Her blond eyebrow shifted higher along with the corners of her lips.

  Was she smiling? “Are you smiling?” Mal goggled. “This isn’t a smiling matter. It’s bad. Very bad.”

  “Bad.” Grace seemed to ponder the meaning. “Is that why you broke up with him?”

  “Not bad in bed.” Oh, no. “He had moves, has moves,” she corrected, and then wondered why she bothered. Travis’s prowess in the bedroom or lack thereof wasn’t the point. “It was an accident.”

  Grace nodded knowingly. “So you two just happened to be naked and he slipped and you just happened to be in the right position, so that his—”