by Nikki Bloom
Over the course of the next six hours, I tried to think of the best way to let Kit down again. He didn't make it any easier with the looks he kept giving me, his chocolate eyes capturing my gaze across the kitchen constantly. It melted my heart just as much as it made me feel awful. In a perfect world, I'd give in and let Kit buy me a drink and we'd click immediately which would lead to dating and hopefully last for the rest of our lives. But in a coward's world, all I could do was admire him from afar.
The restaurant had neared its dead time, with only a few tickets coming in every so often, and I was essentially useless with Stephan handling things. So I took the opportunity to pull Kit aside and speak to him about his little note. He was all smiles when I asked him to step out back with me so we could speak privately.
The night air was peaceful on my flushed skin and I tilted my head into the breeze for a moment before I spoke. “So I saw your note on my coffee,” I began, turning to face him.
He lit a cigarette and kept his distance from me as he smoked it, smiling warmly at me. “Oh yeah? What'd you think of it?”
I gave him a soft smile and crossed my arms. “I'm not sure that it is a good idea for us to get involved. So if your intention is still to go out for drinks as more than friends, I have to say no. Our work relationship and our friendship mean too much to me, and I don't want to risk a falling out with you.”
He took a drag and blew it into the air before he spoke. “I understand your reasoning. But I would love the opportunity to take you out and show you a good time.”
“I know, and if we were going out as friends, I would go in a heartbeat. But if you're expecting more from me – I can't. It's too risky, in my opinion.” I tried to reason without hurting him, but the look on his face suggested that ship had already sailed.
He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. “I will respect your wishes, but I'll never stop trying to change your mind. When we finally go out on a date is all up to you, but we will end up going out. I promise.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he quickly snuffed his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe and went back inside, offering nothing more than a cheeky wink on his way in. For several moments, I stood out back and pondered his words. We will end up going out. I promise. It made me wonder just how seriously he felt about me and once I started thinking about it, it was hard to stop.
6
Kit
On Friday morning, I woke to a call from one of my highest investors asking me to cater an event for their family. It would be an all-day job and I needed another set of hands to keep up with everything. Usually, I'd ask my mother to help me out as she loved doing catering jobs with me. But today felt like a great way to try and win Acacia over and an excuse to spend the whole day with her outside of work.
“Acacia, can I speak with you privately, please?” I asked as I walked through the kitchen, tapping her shoulder softly.
“Of course,” she answered as she set her knife down and pulled the gloves off her hands, disposing of them before she followed me into my office.
I closed the door behind her and sat in the chair at my desk, offering her the seat in front of it. “Please sit. I have something important to ask you.”
She sat down and crossed her legs, her eyebrows knit together. “Am I in trouble or something?”
“Oh, no, not at all! I need some help on a catering job today and I would really appreciate it if you'd help me out. You'll still be getting paid for your shift, but you will be working outside of the restaurant,” I explained.
Her face softened and she smiled softly. “Why didn't you lead with that? I thought you were going to fire me! Of course I'll help out. But may I ask why you chose me? I'm sure Stephan could do just as good of a job, if not a better job.”
“Stephan is a great cook and employee, but I trust you more than anyone else. We've known each other for a long time and I know that you'll be there for me. Especially because this is a very, very important catering job with my investors. It has to go off without a hitch and I know you'll help me accomplish this.”
“What time do we leave?” she asked, her dimples creasing as she beamed.
Acacia and I showed up to the venue half an hour before the event was set to start. She was baffled by the swanky building and gushed about the décor. I couldn't help but admire the way her forest eyes lit up. She spun around in circles as we walked through the lobby and ran her hand along the oak banister leading up the staircase.
“This place is insanely gorgeous!” she whisper-yelled to me.
I nodded in agreement. “It is. You should see the building in New York that I cater at. They're so well-designed and the penthouse views are breathtaking, especially on the 4th of July.”
She stopped walking and pulled out her cell phone. “I have so many pictures from the 4th of July in Chicago. They aren't penthouse view, but I did have a pretty amazing view of them from my dorm one year.”
I took her cell phone when she held it out to me and scrolled through the pictures in her album titled Fourth of Chicago. She had taken so many beautiful, crystal clear photos of the fireworks going off. Some of the photos included her face and the classic peace sign with her fingers; she was smiling widely and her eyes seemed to sparkle as I stared into them.
“Wow, these are beautiful pictures!” I complimented as I handed her phone back, smiling.
She waved her hand dismissively and pocketed it. “They're amateur at best.”
“Not at all! You've got a talent for capturing beautiful moments. Whenever I try to take pictures of fireworks they come out as colorful blurs,” I said with a chuckle.
“Timing is everything and the angle at which you take the photo. Maybe I'll teach you some time so you can have great firework pictures, too,” she offered, playfully bumping me with her shoulder as we continued walking.
“It's a date,” I told her playfully.
“A friend date,” she corrected, pointing her finger at me with a smile.
I held my hands up defensively. “Okay, a friend date. How does next summer sound?”
“I might have to sweet talk my boss into letting me have that time off,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at me when I rolled my eyes in response.
We came upon the room we were meant to be in and set to work setting things up. Today's menu was a slightly altered version of my restaurant's menu, so I knew Acacia wouldn't need much help with it. I helped her prep until people started showing up and then excused myself to go schmooze with the investors while she finished up.
“Mr. Greyson, it is a pleasure to see you again,” I greeted the burly, older gentleman and shook his hand firmly.
He shook mine firmly and beamed at me. “Kit, my favorite restaurateur! How've you been?”
I walked him to the open bar and chuckled. “I am flattered, and I've been well. How about yourself? And the missus?”
The bartender and I locked eyes, I nodded my head toward him to signal that I wanted what we'd discussed beforehand, and he nodded in response. He went to work on our drinks and I leaned against the bar alongside my investor as we continued to make small talk.
“We're doing very well. I finally convinced her to open that gallery. Her artwork is far too beautiful not to be shared with the world. The grand opening is six months from now, and I would love it if you'd come. You can bring a date, too, if you'd like,” he informed with a proud look on his aging face.
I smiled politely, clapping his shoulder. “Consider it a done deal. I've always loved her work and I'm very happy to hear she is finally showing it to the world. Is she planning on selling any of them to her admirers?”
He beamed. “You plannin' on buying?”
“Perhaps. I've had my eye on a couple of paintings for a while; they would look perfect in my apartment in New York,” I told him with a coy smile, clinking my glass against his.
We drank and laughed for a while, joined by other investors and the Greyson family members there to celebrate. I
couldn't help but look back at Acacia periodically to make sure that she was doing well, smiling each time she looked, too. She looked so at ease cooking for them, smiling warmly at people as they came up to request food from her. I must've looked like a lovesick fool to anyone who caught me staring at her, but I was okay with that.
“What's her name?” Mr. Greyson asked, calling my attention back to his cheeky smile and narrowed eyes.
I drank from my glass casually. “Acacia.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful young woman. How long have you two been together?” he asked.
I took another drink and bit the inside of my cheek. “We aren't together. She's a childhood friend.”
He clicked his tongue. “By the looks of it, there's an attraction between the two of you. What's stopping you?”
“She says that it would ruin our friendship and work relationship.”
“Would it?”
I shook my head and scoffed softly. “Absolutely not. It would only make it stronger, right? We already know so much about each other, and she's always been there for me during the tough times in my life.”
“Women are fragile creatures who need reassurance and nurturing. You must make sure that she is emotionally ready to get involved with you before you make too big of a leap; otherwise, you'll scare her off. But I've noticed the way she looks at you when you're not looking – and I recognize that look,” he mused, smiling over my shoulder in Acacia's direction.
When I looked back, she was looking in our direction and when she caught my gaze, she looked away shyly. I watched her busy herself with the food and couldn't help but chuckle fondly.
“Do you think she'll ever be open to going on a date with me?” I asked him, turning back to look him in the eye.
He nodded confidently. “I do, without a doubt. But you may have to wait until she comes to you, Kit. I'm not telling you to stop trying to court her, but maybe letting her feel in control will help you win her over.”
I thanked him, just as a high-pitched squeal sounded through the room. It drew everyone's attention to Acacia, who stood ramrod straight at her station – covered in Alfredo sauce. Her face was red as a tomato as she fumbled to clean herself and the area up quickly. I couldn't help the chortle that escaped my lips and I handed Mr. Greyson my glass, excusing myself.
“What happened?” I asked her as I came to stand beside her.
“I don't want to talk about it,” she grumbled.
I grabbed Acacia by her shoulders, lifted her to her feet and smiled at her. “If you tell me what happened I can help you fix it.”
She sighed heavily, shifting her weight to one leg and using her hands to explain as she spoke. “I was making the Alfredo sauce for the Fettuccine shrimp, and I think I might have had the burner on too high because while I was prepping the shrimp; it just exploded all over me.”
Nodding understandingly, I discarded the pan with burnt Alfredo sauce and pulled a clean one from underneath. “Watch me,” I told her, and began setting things up the way I always did.
Acacia hovered over me as I put ingredients into the pot, her arm brushing mine as I moved, soft wafts of her minty breath under the scents coming from the pot. I continued to work on it, despite being distracted by her close proximity and the way she watched me with absolute intrigue.
“Why do you whisk left-handed when you're right-handed?” she asked, pointing to my hands.
I smiled softly. “Because it offers a softer whisk than my dominant hand, and I can grip the handle firmer with my right hand.”
“Let me try,” she demanded, holding her hand out expectantly.
I handed the whisk to her, setting the pot down on the burner. “Be careful not to make another mess,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes and picked it up right-handed, whisking awkwardly with her left hand. I watched her try to correct the way she held the whisk and the tempo at which she whisked. It took her a minute, but eventually she got the hang of it and beamed brightly up at me.
“I did it!” she cheered, setting the pot down with the whisk inside. I was caught off guard when she jumped into my arms and hugged me excitedly for a moment. Her excitement melted into embarrassment as she backed up and scratched the back of her head awkwardly.
“Sorry about that. I may have gotten a little too excited about that,” she apologized as she busied herself with other cooking.
I wanted to tell her that it wasn't a problem at all, that I welcomed the embrace of her arms, but instead I laughed it off. “It's okay. Want me to show you how to do the noodles next?”
She rolled her eyes playfully at me. “I know how to make pasta, but thank you.”
For the rest of the event, Acacia and I had a great time cooking and laughing together. We kept in close quarters, and more than a few times I guided her on simple techniques that I used to make things. She allowed me to grab her hand and show her physically, which made me exceptionally happy. It felt as if our bond had heightened throughout the day and I picked up on a vibe that made me think she would be receptive to me asking her out. So once everyone had cleared out of the building, I took another shot at it.
“Hey, Acacia,” I began, lifting one end of the fold-able table as she lifted the other side.
“Hmm?” she murmured, flipping the clasps on her side.
I followed her lead and met her half-way with it. “I want to take you out tonight for drinks, to thank you for helping me. It means a lot to me and I know that they loved you, might've won me some brownie points with my investors.”
She smiled at me politely and wiped her hands on her pants. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I have a really busy day ahead of me tomorrow and I need to get as much sleep as possible. Can we rain check it?”
“Of course we can, but I'm going to hold you to it,” I told her, forcing a smile.
Her eyes narrowed sympathetically and she gingerly touched my shoulder. “Are you sure it's okay? And you're okay?”
I placed my hand over hers briefly. “Yeah, of course. Hey, it shouldn't take too much longer to clean this up. Why don't you go home early and get some rest? I should be able to get this done in no time.”
“No way. I can stay and help out!” she argued.
I shook my head. “I appreciate it. But you should get some sleep for your busy day. I'll make sure to clock you out when I go check on the restaurant, too. Have a great night and get home safely, okay?”
She looked like she was going to argue with me but stopped when I held up my hand with a smile. “Okay, I'll go home and get some sleep. Thank you, Kit. I had fun helping you out today. Maybe we can do it again?”
“Absolutely.”
7
Acacia
“It's been nice having you home, sweetheart.” My mom smiled at me as she spread paint over the basement wall. “And your father and I appreciate you helping us redecorate the basement.”
I dipped my paint brush and waved my free hand dismissively. “I'd do anything to help you out, you know that. Besides, I didn't have any plans for today besides sitting around watching TV.”
She gave me a look and then turned toward me. “Aren't there any boys that you'd like to go out with? Or friends that you haven't seen in a while? You aren't getting any younger, you know.”
“Mom!” I exclaimed in embarrassment.
“What? You're twenty-six, Acacia. I'd like to be a grandmother sometime before I'm too old to enjoy it,” she teased, casually stroking the wall again. “I know of a few eligible men in town, if you're interested.”
I grimaced at the thought dating anybody from town.
“Mom, seriously. I'm not focused on dating, not until I get my restaurant off the ground. Not everybody wants to get married and have children right away, you know,” I countered, putting my focus into painting.
She hummed and shrugged. “I'm just saying you could focus on both. Your father and I dated in college and still managed to start our careers. As long as you can separate yourself
from the romance and focus, you can do both.”
“I'll think about it,” I told her, though I didn't have any intention of doing so.
For a while we painted in silence, coating the faded white walls with beige paint and an accent wall of cappuccino brown. It was peaceful to spend time with my mom, listening to her favorite music and watching her smile as she got in the zone. She had always loved painting, and I couldn't even begin to count the number of times I tried to encourage her to do it more often.
“Wow, it's looking great down here,” Patrick commented as he came down the stairs. “You need a hand or two?”
I looked up at him with a smile, a smile that faltered when I noticed that he hadn't come down alone. Behind him, stepping off the last step was Kit wearing a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt with the biggest smile on his face.
“Oh, that would be excellent, boys! If you could start hauling all the old furniture out of here through the patio door that would be a huge help!” Mom told them gratefully as she set her paintbrush down.
“Sounds like a plan, Mrs. Perry,” Kit agreed politely. “Any particular place you'd like them set up outside?”
Mom shook her head. “As long the movers can get to the patio door with the new furniture, it will be fine. They're coming at six, so we have to be done before then. Do you have any other plans for the day, honey?”
“Not a one, I can help out all day,” he beamed at her.
She hugged him briefly and then patted his back. “And don't you even think about leaving until after dinner, young man! We've missed having you around here lately, and I'm dying to hear all about your restaurant. I know Acacia loves working there with you and a cook named Stephan.”
“Mom!” I exclaimed, turning around to her with a 'knock it off' look.