Fresh in the Kitchen: The LUSH Restaurant Sweet Romance Series (The LUSH Restaurant Series Book 2)

by Olivia Burke

  Aubrey laughed. “I know, and thank you for offering. It’s just … I wanted to prove them wrong somehow. Back when she got engaged, I thought I had plenty of time to find someone, maybe even be sort of serious when the wedding came around. I could prove that I had a great job and a great boyfriend, and that my life is perfect even if they don’t approve of it.”

  Natalie shot her a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t they approve of it?”

  Aubrey grimaced, trying – and failing – to sound flippant. “Oh, you know, I’m just the black sheep of the family.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Have I ever told you how I ended up in the States?”

  Natalie shook her head, taking a sip of coffee between napkin folding.

  “My mum and dad are academics. They were offered jobs at the university down the road. They moved us here about fifteen years ago, and have been top of their fields ever since. My dad’s specialty is chemistry, and he’s now the chair of his science department; Mum’s in engineering.”

  Natalie’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa. Smarties.”

  “Right,” Aubrey said, nodding. “And my dear older sister followed in their footsteps to work in infectious disease research at the university, too.”

  “Let me guess,” Natalie said, holding one slender finger up. “They wish you also worked at the school.”

  Aubrey barked out a laugh. “Hardly. I barely pulled a three point oh in college because, according to them, I’m ‘too much of a party girl.’ They like to refer to me as ‘just a bartender.’”

  Natalie sputtered. “That’s terrible. You love your job.”

  Aubrey’s hair swirled around her shoulders as she moved to restock a few liquor bottles. “I do, but that doesn’t really matter to them. Never has, not when it comes to the importance of education. They think I’m wasting my talents.”

  “But you’re one of the best bartenders in town,” Natalie argued. “You’ve won competitions and now that award; you help build LUSH’s reputation–”

  “That will never matter to them, Nat,” Aubrey said, focusing on the work in front of her in order to squash the wave of emotions that stuck in her throat. “I’ll never be good enough for my family.”

  “You’re more than good enough for your LUSH family,” Natalie said firmly, reaching over to place a hand on Aubrey’s.

  Aubrey looked up at Natalie’s big brown eyes, at the fierceness and loyalty in them. She visibly relaxed, calming at her friend’s affirmation.

  “Thanks, Nat.”

  “You’re welcome.” Natalie pulled back to sip more coffee. “But I know that still doesn’t solve your wedding date problem.”

  Aubrey sighed. “No, it does not. What am I going to do?”

  “Why not fly solo?” Natalie suggested as she got up and put napkins away in a nearby drawer. “I mean, won’t you be too busy with Queen Chloe’s commands to have to juggle a date anyway?”

  “I cannot go to this thing alone, Nat.” Aubrey shuddered, utterly horrified at the prospect. “My entire family is coming in from Australia. There’s no way I can be ‘just a bartender’ and single.”

  Natalie pursed her lips at the self-inflicted jab, but moved on. “So what exactly are you going to do?”

  Aubrey frowned, utterly stumped. “I have no idea.”

  “Blind dates?” Natalie suggested. “Katie and Adam could help line up a few guys.”

  “The wedding is two weeks away,” Aubrey pointed out. “Even if I found a guy I tolerated enough to bring, wouldn’t something like that send him into a panic? ‘Hi, I know we’ve been on one date, but I’d like to bring you to my sister’s wedding and introduce you to my entire clan of Australian nut job relatives. Whaddya say?’”

  Natalie laughed. “Okay, maybe no blind dates. Are you on good terms with any exes?”

  “Hard pass,” Aubrey said with a shake of her head. “My exes are in the past for a reason, and staying there.”

  “Fair enough. In that case, I’m out of ideas, but I’ll keep thinking.”

  “Thanks, Nat.”

  Hunter reappeared around the corner, offering Natalie a smile she returned. When he came back to the bar, Aubrey reached over to help him cut and restock their fruit.

  “Say, you wouldn’t want to be my date to my sister’s wedding, would you? Platonically, of course?” Aubrey blurted out.

  Hunter burst out laughing. “You must be desperate, Walker. Even if I wanted to–great invitation, by the way–I’m covering your shifts, remember?”

  Aubrey deflated. Hunter was right, of course. They’d spent the last few weeks training Adam on bar so he could be the backup for when she was out, but Hunter Stone was always the bar’s main attraction. He was doing her a solid.

  Never mind that, there was the fact her family would hate him. She loved Hunter to death, but bringing yet another bartender to the wedding would only further their disapproval of her lifestyle. So much for that idea.

  Tom and Seth were cleaning up the kitchen at their house after a dinner of homemade brats and sides. It was rare for them both to be home with nothing to do, and even rarer still for them to have the house to themselves. These days, Natalie was over all the time; not that Tom minded, but when Seth suggested a guys’ night in with video games and beer, Tom had wholeheartedly agreed.

  Until they sat down in the living room and Seth spoiled the casual mood.

  “About your award …”

  Tom raised a brow at him. “What about it?”

  Seth glanced up. “Have you, uh, told your dad yet?”

  “Funny you should ask,” Tom replied, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He didn’t meet Seth’s eyes.

  “You know he’ll want to hear it from you, and not when the magazine actually comes out.” Seth got up from the couch, went into the kitchen, and returned with two cold beer bottles. He gestured to Tom’s phone on the table. “Call him.”

  Tom groaned, but knew it was like ripping off a band-aid–the sooner he called, the sooner he got it over with and done. He picked up his phone and called. To his great relief, he got his dad’s voicemail. He left a message asking for him to call back, simply stating he had “good news to share.”

  “I say we play a game to kill time so you aren’t sitting there waiting for the phone to ring,” Seth suggested.

  He grabbed two controllers, tossing Tom one, and set up their favorite video game. They were only a few minutes in when the phone went off. Tom stared at his screen in wonder. Seth paused the game and nudged him, and Tom held up his phone to show him the name.

  “It’s my dad.”

  Seth grimaced. “Uh oh.”

  Tom still stared at his phone, the ringing far away in his ears.

  “Answer it already,” Seth urged.

  Tom popped to his feet, pacing across the living room floor. He swiped the button. “Hey, Pop.”

  “Hello, Thomas,” his father’s deep voice replied.

  “How are you?” Tom asked, his stomach twisting from nerves.

  “I’m very well. How are things at LUSH?”

  “Oh, they’re, uh, they’re great.”

  His father’s stiff composure hadn’t budged over the last two decades. As one of the state’s most renowned chefs, Chef Flanagan felt it was important to present himself as a professional, an expert in the industry. So much so that he was formal even with his own son most days. Tom understood it, but wanted to be more casual, and often felt caught in the middle of old-school and the new generation of great food.

  When he didn’t immediately say anything else, his dad prompted him.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I, uh … oh, never mind, you’re way too busy–”

  “Nonsense, what is it?”

  “Well, the media had readers vote for their best restaurants and a few other categories. But apparently LUSH won the best restaurant and I won best chef. I, uh, also won something called the ‘Favorite Local’ which is actually kinda cool.”<
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  “Congratulations, Thomas, that’s wonderful news.” His dad’s cool tone didn’t match the words, and Tom swallowed his disappointment. Of course his father would react all low-key; Tom didn’t know if he’d ever heard him get excited about anything, except food, of course.

  “Thank you. Right, so, there’s some kind of photoshoot and a big party, and I have to go and represent LUSH.”

  “Is that right?”

  Tom hesitated. “Yes, sir.”

  There was a long pause on the other end. “Maybe I should be there to cheer you on. This is a momentous occasion, after all.”

  “I–what?”

  “I can’t make any promises, but send me the details and I’ll see if I can rearrange my schedule.”

  Uh, no thank you. That was not why he’d called his father; he’d already dreaded that part, but it’d gone from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. Horror flooded through Tom, but he forced himself to say the right thing. “Thanks, Pop, it, uh, means a lot you’d consider it.”

  “Listen, while I have you, I glanced at your menu the other day and thought about a couple things that would really make it sing …” His dad continued to talk about things he thought Tom should be incorporating.

  Tom, however, tuned him out, strictly out of habit. It wasn’t that his dad didn’t have good ideas; Chef Flanagan Senior had great ideas. It was why he was one of the best chefs in the country, and had been for decades. But Tommy didn’t want to live in his father’s shadow. He’d grown up learning French techniques and proper cooking, but he wanted to do more, to push the envelope of modern cuisine. It was something his father didn’t understand, nor did he want to, so Tom had learned to keep it to himself.

  Tom’s reputation, he figured, would have to come from within. He’d always be grateful for what his father taught him, and their shared connection that had pulled them through his mother’s death when he was only a kid. But it was time for Tom to figure out his own style, the methods and madness that he loved. He just didn’t know how to tell his father, who’d never understood the want to break away from the classics.

  “What do you think?”

  Tom snapped back to the conversation. “Uh, well, as usual, that’s great feedback. I’ll be sure to think about it.”

  His father couldn’t be fooled so easily. “Did you hear a word I just said, Thomas?”

  “Of course, Pop, but hey, Seth needs me in the kitchen, so I gotta run,” Tom lied.

  Over on the couch, Seth rolled his eyes.

  “Congratulations on a terrific achievement. I hope I get to celebrate with you in person,” Mr. Flanagan said. “Text me all the details of this event as soon as you know more.”

  “I will,” Tom said said. “Thanks for calling me back.”

  “I’m never too busy for you, Thomas,” his father said. “I love you, son.”

  “Love you too, Pop. Talk to you later.”

  Tom and his father hung up, and Tom leaned back in his chair, half-expecting sweat to run down his brow.

  Seth chuckled. “Every time you talk to him, it looks like you’ve just come back from battle. Why is that?”

  Tom glared at him. “You know how he is.”

  “Intimidating and impossible to read? Yeah, I know.” Seth shrugged. “But still, he’s your dad. At least he wants to be involved in your life.”

  “Too involved,” Tom muttered. “It drives me crazy when he tells me how to run my menu.”

  “He does it because he cares.”

  “He does it because he’s controlling and has to make sure I’m living up to his good name,” Tom countered.

  Seth’s hands went up in defeat. “All right, all right, I get it. You and your dad have a weird relationship.”

  Tom sighed. “It’s hard to explain, even when you know all the details. We’ve never had a normal father-son relationship, not even before my mom died.”

  “You know I mean well, Tommy.” Seth looked at him with earnest green eyes. “After Nat’s dad passed away, it made me reevaluate some things with my own father. We’ve both been trying to put more effort into our relationship, and I’m happier for it. I just want the same for you.”

  Tom relaxed in his chair. “I know, man, and I do appreciate it. It’s just … my dad and I, I don’t know what there is to fix. We talk, we see each other at holidays–”

  “Because you have to. Look at you, you’re sweating bullets over having to call and share incredible news! You should be thrilled he’s trying to be here for your party, and instead you look like you’re headed off to war.”

  Tom scowled. “We’ve gotta stop playing this video game, the only metaphors you know now are generically war-related.”

  Seth threw a pillow at Tom’s head.

  The weekend flew by, full of phone calls and texts from her mother and sister. Aubrey seriously debated on “accidentally” breaking her phone, particularly after the group text between them and two aunts started. She’d settled on muting the conversation instead, checking in every once in a while to assure them she could handle the tasks being thrown her way.

  Aubrey was off on Monday. She’d slept in, and now sat on her porch swing in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, cup of coffee in hand and a pensive expression as she stared off into nothing. The neighborhood was quiet, most people already off to work for the day. Steam rose off her warm mug into the cool morning air as she wondered what she was going to do about this wedding date problem.

  A bird flew past her house, catching her attention as it landed across the street, just beside Tom’s car. Tom … The wheels in her head began to whir as a plan formulated.

  Aubrey drained her coffee and put the cup on a side table, already moving towards the steps. She crossed the street and nearly skipped up the steps to Tom and Seth’s house, letting herself in.

  “I have a proposal for you,” Aubrey said, banging through Tom’s front door without greeting him.

  “Back here,” he called.

  She headed to the back of the house, where Tom was making breakfast. “Hey, so I had an idea this morning and I need your help.”

  “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Tom replied as she entered the kitchen.

  Even in his off hours, Tom cooked. The only difference, Aubrey noted with a smile, was Tom’s attire. He’d traded his chef’s jacket for a gray shirt over black pajama pants with little colorful donuts all over them.

  She pointed to his outfit. “I like the pants.”

  “Thanks, they’re my favorite pair.”

  She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “Didn’t I give you those as a joke one year?”

  “Christmas, two years ago,” he said with a grin.

  Tommy flipped pancakes in a cast-iron pan, leaning over to turn down the rock music that played on a small speaker on the counter. Three plates were set around the table, along with silverware and a couple of glasses for the pitcher of fresh-squeezed juice. Without asking, Tom paused his cooking to grab a fourth plate, setting a spot for Aubrey. Affection grew in her chest as she shot him a big grin.

  Aubrey took a second to watch her friend at work as he prepared breakfast. When he caught her looking, he gave a self-conscious laugh.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” she said, going over to pour herself a glass of juice. “You’re just so in your element during these quiet moments.”

  Tom grinned at her. “Someday, when I’m old, I’ll tell people these were my favorite moments.”

  He turned his attention back to the stove. Aubrey watched him work, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he moved. When did he get those? She gave Tom a once-over when he wasn’t looking, and was surprised to notice his physique. She knew he’d spent a lot of time at the gym with Seth over the summer, but didn’t realize how hard he’d been working. His chef’s jacket apparently covered up quite a bit. She watched again, mesmerized, as his shoulder muscles shifted beneath the thin fabric. How had she not noticed before?

  Footsteps sounded overhea
d, moving to the staircase and downstairs as Seth headed to the first floor. Aubrey shook off her less-than-innocent thoughts about her best friend, instead smiling cheerfully at the scruffy, bedheaded, and shirtless young man that walked into the kitchen.

  Seth froze at the sight of her. “Oh, uh, hey Aubrey.”

  Aubrey laughed at the red blush that crept up Seth’s neck. He shouted up to his girlfriend. “Hey Nat, bring me a shirt, would ya?”

  “No need to be embarrassed, Seth.” Aubrey tried to be serious, but couldn’t hide the way her lips twitched. “I’ve seen shirtless men before.”

  “I’m not embarrassed,” he said, shrugging. “I just don’t want to distract Tom near a hot stove.”

  Aubrey laughed as Tom spun around, waving his spatula at himself. “Hey, maybe I need the motivation.”

  “You obviously don’t.” Seth waved him off. “I can’t believe how fast you dropped that weight considering I watch you eat half a pint of ice cream every night.”

  “Nah, I’m not giving up desserts, man,” Tom said. He shrugged innocently at Aubrey. “Otherwise, what’s the point?”

  “Well done to the both of you,” she said, lifting her glass of juice in congratulations. “LUSH has the hottest chefs in town, in addition to the bartenders.”

  Aubrey couldn’t believe she’d said that. Tom’s ears tinged pink, but before Aubrey could tease him, Natalie appeared and handed Seth a t-shirt. She offered Aubrey a sleepy grin, her wild curls more like a bird’s nest on her head. “Morning.”

  Aubrey raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Staying the night more and more, eh, Nat? Guess I would too, with those abs.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows, making Natalie blush, too, but they shared a little giggle. Seth rolled his eyes, grabbing coffee cups for everyone and setting them out on the table. Tom finished up breakfast and they quickly plated, having a seat and digging in. Aubrey wolfed down the pancakes, raving over the brown sugar and cinnamon Tom had incorporated into his batter.

  “So,” Tom said, waving his fork at Aubrey, “you said you had a proposal.”