by Olivia Burke
“Oh?”
“Will you come to dinner with me and my dad?” Tom asked. “He kinda sprung it on me and I could use your help easing the tension. I know it’s last-minute, especially as the bartender and all–”
Aubrey could swear there was fear in his voice. Of his dad or of my answer? She laughed, hoping to calm his nerves.
“Of course I will, Tommy. Adam’s training is coming along well, so it should be okay, and I’ll pick up a couple of Hunter’s shifts to pay him back. I mean, I think I owe you like a million dinners after this week with my own family, so that’s more than fair.”
Tom’s shoulders relaxed. “Thanks. At least I’m finally using all these built-up vacation hours.”
Aubrey burst out laughing. “For dinners with our parents and hanging out with me. I’m not sure that qualifies as fun vacation.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tom said with a shrug, looking in the oven window instead of at her. “It’s been pretty fun for me so far.”
Aubrey was taken aback, unsure how to respond. “Well, I suppose we’re just getting started.”
“You think?”
Tom met her eyes, and Aubrey couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about the same thing. Or maybe she hoped they were talking about it for real. In any case, she couldn’t think like that, not about Tom. So she waved him off with a forced laugh.
“Of course, we have at least another couple weeks to go, right?”
“Right.” Tom put his hands in his back pockets, looking around. “Well, if you think you can handle getting the cupcakes out of the oven and frosted, I think my work here is done.”
“Thank you,” Aubrey said, placing a hand on his arm. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver.”
“I do what I can,” he said modestly, shrugging. “Remember to let them cool before you frost them, and if you really get in a bind, I’m only across the street.”
“I’ve already taken up plenty of your time today,” she said, but he shook his head.
“I’ve got all the time in the world for you, Aubs.”
The words twisted her heart, because she knew she wanted them to mean more than they did. Tom was there for her as a friend, always had been. He’d never want anything more, and Aubrey had to remind herself of that before she went and fell for the wrong guy again.
Tom was a bundle of nerves as he and Aubrey waited for his dad to arrive for dinner. They’d made sure to get there several minutes early, requesting Tom’s favorite table in a corner by the front window. Tom resisted the urge to reset the table settings, knowing the servers made them perfect every time.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so nervous,” Aubrey said, placing a gentle hand on Tom’s non-tattooed forearm.
“Can’t be helped,” he muttered. “The man has made me nervous since I baked my first cake at nine years old.”
“That is honestly so cute, I can’t even stand it.” Aubrey nudged Tom. “I see you went with long sleeves this evening.”
“Sure did,” Tom said, his hand moving to his tattooed arm as if to hide it. “I’m glad it’s not a hundred degrees right now, or I’d have a harder time getting away with it.”
“You’re really not going to show him?”
“No. Way.”
She snickered but dropped the subject – thankfully just in time, as the front door opened and Chef Patrick Flanagan walked into LUSH.
Patrick spotted them and made his way to the table, wrapping his arms around Tom in a brief hug. When they broke apart, Tom turned to Aubrey, nerves pinging. “Pop, this is my girlfriend, Aubrey Walker.”
“Well, well, look at you,” Patrick said, shaking Aubrey’s hand. “Thomas did not say how beautiful you are.”
“Oh, well, thank you,” Aubrey said, blushing a little. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
He raised an eyebrow at Tom. “And Australian, to boot. The surprises keep on coming.”
Tom chuckled nervously, pulling back Aubrey’s chair for her. The men had a seat, too. Tom watched his father examine the table, but he evidently found nothing to criticize. He poured himself a glass of water from the bottle left on the table per Tom’s request.
“My apologies for requesting the very restaurant in which you work,” Patrick told Aubrey. “But I wanted to try Thomas’s menu, even if the sous chef must be the one to make it.”
“Pop,” Tom admonished. “Seth’s the best.”
“Second best,” his father corrected.
“Hi chefs, Aubrey,” Natalie greeted them, much to Tom’s relief. “I’ll be your server tonight, what can I get started for you?”
His father ordered a very good bottle of wine. Tom didn’t miss the slightly panicked glance Natalie gave Aubrey, who offered a shadow of a reassuring smile. Natalie went back to find Hunter, while Katie moved her way around the room to refill water glasses. Patrick nodded in approval when Natalie brought the bottle back and presented it to him, uncorking and pouring for everyone.
Tom’s stomach tightened as his father looked over the menu. He tried to find any sort of reaction on the older man’s face, but as always, he was impossible to read. Natalie returned to take orders, scribbling as fast as she could. Aubrey requested the scallops, while Tom ordered the pork loin.
“I’ll start with the vegetable salad, followed by the flank steak,” Patrick said. He paused to look at Tom and Aubrey over his menu, eyebrows raised. “You like oysters?”
“Oh yes, sir,” Aubrey said enthusiastically.
His father nodded his approval, turning back to Natalie. “Six oysters for the table to start.”
“Great,” Natalie said. “I’ll go fire this and be back shortly with your oysters and some of our freshly baked bread. Please let me know if you need anything else.”
“Aubrey, tell me about yourself,” Patrick said. “What do your parents do?”
Tom’s hands closed into fists beneath the table as he noticed Aubrey flinch, but to her credit, she dove right in, explaining what her parents and sister did at the university.
Natalie interrupted them with a quiet apology, presenting their cheese plate.
“What’s this?” Tom asked.
“A gift from the kitchen,” Natalie said, a little smile playing on her lips. She winked at Tom, who sat back in his chair with a chuckle. Seth and the boys were treating them like a VIP table, for which Tom was actually grateful. He couldn’t help but want his father to be impressed by his son’s restaurant.
“This looks very nice,” Patrick said, diving right into the beautiful appetizer.
“I could make a meal off this alone,” Aubrey said dreamily, popping a piece of cheese in her mouth. “In fact, I think I have.”
“Tell me, Aubrey,” Patrick said as he tried a bit of cheese with the pawpaw puree. “What sort of wine would you pair with this?”
“Oh no,” Tom said, panicking slightly. “No tests for her tonight.”
Patrick’s face broke out with a laugh, his hands going up. “Okay, okay, that’s fair. I don’t mean to quiz you, Aubrey. It’s habit by now. I suppose my curiosity got the best of me at getting to know your tastes as the best bartender in town.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Aubrey said, smile fading a bit. “After all, some only see me as a lowly bartender.”
“Nonsense,” Patrick said.
Tom raised his eyebrows at his father, biting back the first response to remind him of their phone call. But when Aubrey tilted her head in question, he forgot all about that, instead focusing on the way the candlelight played on her face.
“A mixologist is a little like being a scientist, is it not?” Patrick smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “What you do might be seen as more frivolous compared to their careers, but when you work in the food industry as long as I have, you come to understand the importance of a wonderful mixologist and sommelier. A meal by itself is a feat, yes, but a meal with the perfect drink or bottle of wine, well, that makes it even more special. You and Thomas pro
vide experiences for others.”
Aubrey visibly relaxed, a pink hue on her cheeks. “Thank you, sir, that’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said about my job.”
“Believe me, I’ve known many a talented mixologist. Food can, of course, be enjoyed without alcohol, but to provide the perfect drink with it? Well, that’s a very special meal, indeed.”
Aubrey smiled, clearly delighted by the older chef’s words. Tom wasn’t surprised; his dad could be quite charming when the occasion called for it. Patrick Flanagan was no stranger to television, either, having often appeared on friends’ cooking shows. He always knew the right thing to say, which was a trait he’d tried to instill in Tom.
The rest of dinner flew by; Natalie brought their oysters, followed by their appetizers and main courses. Katie and Adam helped carry the plates out, though Tom suspected it was to get a better look at his dad, whom everyone at LUSH knew about, but, aside from Seth, had never met.
Tom couldn’t help but peek at his father with nearly every bite. He wished he could hear his father’s thoughts; then again, maybe he shouldn’t wish such a thing, given his father’s knack for making culinary students cry.
Aubrey slipped a scallop onto Patrick’s plate when he wasn’t looking, which made him laugh when he did see it. They bonded over their love of seafood while Tom looked on; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his father this enthusiastic, his eyes lighting up as they discussed fish and flavors.
Patrick picked up the check without another thought, waving off Tom’s argument to take the bill himself. Natalie took care of his card and returned it, thanking them for patronage. The three of them sat quietly together, sipping the last of their expensive wine.
“Well, when it comes to tonight’s meal, Thomas, I must say …” he trailed off, dabbing his napkin at the corners of his mouth.
Tom held his breath; beneath the table, Aubrey pressed her knee against his, her presence calming him.
“It was quite good,” Patrick said, setting his napkin aside. “Certainly the best oysters I’ve had in some time, but Rappahannock oysters are the very best. I could certainly see your keen eye in the plating.”
Tom exchanged a happy look with Aubrey, who visibly relaxed. He released a subtle sigh of relief, resisting the urge to tug at his collar. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“The flavors were there, the meat perfectly cooked … I suppose your sous chef is, as we say, Thomas, the second best chef in Crystal Springs. And that is only of your own guidance, so I must say, well done.”
“Thank you, Pop. That means a lot. It wouldn’t be what it is without you, after all.”
“I look forward to the awards reception,” he said, clapping a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Though I expect the food will not be as good as what we just had here.”
Tom barely registered the thinly veiled compliment. “You’re still coming to the party?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, Thomas; after all, they’re honoring you. This is what we’ve wanted since you were a boy.”
“Ah,” Tom said, faltering. Technically, it’s what you’ve always wanted for me, but sure.
“Now, I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you two would appreciate a little time alone given how much you both work. It was nice to meet you, my dear,” Patrick said to Aubrey, reaching out to shake her hand goodbye. “I look forward to seeing you again soon.”
“Yes, same here,” Aubrey said, never missing a beat. Beneath the table, she nudged Tom with her knee, shaking him from his reverie.
He popped up from the table, shaking his father’s offered hand. “Thanks for coming, Pop. It means a lot to me.”
“As it does to me,” Patrick said, looking his son in the eye. “I’m quite proud of the work you’ve done. Your mother would be too, if she were here today. It will be a treat to watch your continued growth.”
He exited LUSH with one more goodbye wave at the door. Tom sank into his chair and stared wide-eyed at Aubrey. “I can’t believe it. That might be the nicest thing he’s ever said to me. I think you’re my good luck charm.”
The brilliant smile she gave him nearly rivaled his father’s compliment.
“Your dad is an interesting character,” she said, clearly curious to know more. “He’s a little intimidating, but not as scary as you made him out to be.”
A bark of laughter escaped Tom. “You’ve never worked for him.”
“Touché. You don’t talk about him much.”
Tom shrugged. “What is there to say?”
Her shoulders moved into a tiny shrug and she shifted in her seat a bit as if shying away. Tom bit his tongue, wanting to open up to her but unsure how. The words spilled from his lips.
“My mom died in a car accident when I was twelve. Pop worked a lot before that, but after she died, he was never the same.”
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “For both of you.”
The genuine concern and sympathy on her face twisted his heart a little. She had such a huge heart for others, and he found the words rushing out of him, things he’d never told anyone before.
“After she died, neither of us knew what to do, how to move forward. I’d go to school and he decided, to keep me from becoming an aimless zombie, that I needed to work in the kitchen with him. I was thirteen when I started helping the dishwashers. Pop gave me my first chef’s knife at fifteen; I had to go to the hospital a week later after nearly cutting my thumb off.”
Tom showed her the scar on the tip of his thumb, smiling a little at the memory of the fear in his father’s eyes at the blood everywhere. Tom had been worried his father would be angry at such a mistake, and while he did get a lecture afterwards, he’d been relieved to see his dad far more concerned than anything else. Not about Tom’s future career, but about him. In a weird way, it’d shown how much Patrick cared.
“We lived in his kitchen. I didn’t play sports or join academic teams,” Tom said. “I lived and breathed food, the joy in feeding people, the pride of following in his footsteps. He’s one of the best chefs in the country, which makes him a workaholic. I don’t think he’s ever even taken a vacation.”
Aubrey’s eyes grew wide. “Like ever?”
“Ever, even before Mom died,” Tom confirmed. “Growing up, I went all over the country with him, but all I ever saw, besides an occasional farmers market, were the kitchens he consulted in. I can tell you everything about the restaurants or culinary schools, but no clue about the cities themselves.”
Aubrey’s mouth twisted with pity. “That’s kinda sad, Tommy. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Tom said, shrugging. “It’s because of him that I’m where I am today. He instilled his work ethic in me, along with the desire to push myself and be the best. Losing out on a few typical childhood memories is worth it to be sitting here next to you.”
Aubrey rewarded him with another bright smile that met her eyes, making Tom’s heart do a little flip in his chest.
“You know, I’m pretty sure you said the other day that you’ve never taken a vacation day.”
He nodded slowly. “I guess I’m more like my pop than I thought.”
“We could change that,” she suggested. “Play hooky, go camping or skip town for a long weekend?”
“You’d do that?” he asked, surprised.
Her slim shoulders shrugged. “Like I need an excuse to go have a little fun and not worry about work.”
Tom leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “I can’t imagine telling him I’m skipping out on work to go camping. His head would explode.”
“He hates that you have a girlfriend, doesn’t he?” Aubrey said with a little chuckle. “Even if he doesn’t know it’s a fake one.”
Tom’s heart paused on the flips at the reminder of their non-relationship. “He thinks I need to be focused solely on my career.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think I’ll make time for both career and relationship when the right girl comes along.”<
br />
Aubrey’s smile faded a bit, though Tom wasn’t sure why.
“And what kind of qualities does Ms. Right have when it comes to your standards?” she asked.
Tom looked down at the table, unsure if he wanted to talk about it. Not only was it weird having this discussion with Aubrey, but it put him dangerously close to spilling his feelings about her, and he couldn’t let that happen.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tom said, faking a chuckle. “The usual, I suppose. Funny, smart, preferably stinking rich.”
“Oh come on,” Aubrey scoffed. “That’s so generic. Be real with me.”
Tom swallowed hard, but the words rushed out anyway. “Okay – funny and smart are important, for what it’s worth. But most importantly, I want a girl who gets me, who understands my schedule and my work ethic. Who appreciates it and doesn’t mind that I don’t work a regular nine to five, and that I think about food pretty much ninety-five percent of the time. A girl who can eat ramen at midnight, but appreciates a five-course meal on a Sunday afternoon. I want a girl who is laid-back, gets along with my friends, and most importantly, loves me for me and not my reputation.”
By the time he’d stopped talking, Aubrey had leaned in across the table. They were so close it would take no effort at all for Tom to kiss her, which was all he now wanted to do. Blood rushed to his head as his heart pounded; he was drawn to Aubrey like a moth to a flame, and for the slightest second, at the look on her face, he wondered if she felt it, too.
Then, as quickly as it’d come, it was gone as she pulled away to offer a thin smile. “Quite a list there, Tommy, but something tells me you’ll find a woman who is all of those things and more someday.”
“Someday,” he echoed. He wanted nothing more than to shout at her and everyone else in the restaurant, It’s you! Can’t you see?
“Come on, I’ll walk you home,” Tom said, standing and moving to pull Aubrey’s chair out for her.
“Already?” Aubrey glanced at her watch in surprise. It wasn’t that late, not by their usual standards.
“We’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow morning,” he reminded her. With a slight grin, he added, “I’ve gotta go home and get my beauty sleep.”