by Raine Thomas
Which she wasn’t.
“Everything’s great, thanks,” she said. “Well, outside of a hostile at table nineteen. But I’ll handle it.”
They exchanged grins and Everly lifted the tray. She carried the drinks to table twenty-one and asked about their meals. As she did so, she subconsciously tuned into everything happening in her station. Stefan was clearing table seventeen. He was excellent at his job and would have it fully turned inside a minute. She’d have to check back in a few minutes to greet her new guest or guests.
Walking past table twenty, she picked up their payment folder and thanked the couple, letting them know she’d be back in a moment after processing their credit card. She carefully collected straw wrappers and brushed crumbs off tables as she passed on her way to the back of the house, even if the tables weren’t in her station. The other servers would do the same for her. Owner Rowan Ferullo insisted on clean tabletops and smiling waitstaff in his establishment.
After using the touchscreen ordering terminal to enter dessert for table twenty-one and then processing the payment for twenty, she filled more glasses with soft drinks and had a quick word with Kathleen about table nineteen. Then she strode back to the front of the house, delivering the refills to eighteen and the payment folder to twenty. Thanking them again, she steeled herself and returned to nineteen. She registered that the hostess had already seated guests at table seventeen and silently reminded herself to greet them after taking these orders.
Everly scanned the group at nineteen. It appeared to be two couples and their mother or mother-in-law—the complainer. One couple was still discussing the menu.
Catching the eye of the female half of the couple, Everly smiled and asked, “Do you have any questions about the menu?”
“No,” the older woman said, waving a hand in Everly’s direction as though her presence displeased her. She tossed her head and her long, blonde hair fell back over her shoulder in a salon-inspired wave. “We’ve been ready to order for some time now.”
“My apologies,” Everly said. “Please let me know what you’d like from the appetizer, entrée, and dessert options and I’ll—”
“I want the Beef Tartare,” the woman interrupted, “but put the sesame vinaigrette on the side in case I don’t like it. And—aren’t you going to write this down?”
Everly kept her attentive expression and polite smile in place. “No, ma’am. I’ll remember the order.”
The woman’s face scrunched like she had inhaled something unpleasant. She sniffed audibly. “I doubt that.”
“We can absolutely prepare the Beef Tartare with the sesame vinaigrette on the side,” Everly said smoothly, not bothering to mention that it was typically served that way. “And for your entrée?”
Despite the woman’s complicated palate and multiple changes to her meal, Everly managed to guide the table through their orders. She took some comfort from the fact that the younger couples appeared upset by the older woman’s behavior. She handed their menus off to the hostess, Lexi, as she walked past. Then she turned to table seventeen.
And found her first genuine smile of the night.
“Wyatt,” she said as she approached. “So nice to see you here.”
He returned her smile. “You look as wonderful as always, Everly. How was your Thanksgiving?”
“Full of studying,” she answered, unable to keep the humor from her voice. “My Professional Practice professor’s a real hard-nose.”
“Tell him to lay off,” Wyatt said. “Only an ass would schedule finals between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
Everly laughed. This was her second class with Dr. Wyatt Parker. Her first had been CardioPulm. During that course in the beginning of her degree program, he agreed to mentor her. Thanks to him, she received a full-time graduate assistantship at Georgia State University. Between that and Wyatt getting her this job at Prix Fixe, she owed him more than she could ever repay.
“I’ll get right on that,” she said dryly.
She appreciated his good-humored wink. Almost as an afterthought, she looked at his dining guest to greet him. Her smile froze on her face.
“Everly, I’d like you to meet my brother, Cole,” Wyatt said.
It was Cole Parker. The Cole Parker. Sitting in her station.
Cole Parker was sitting right in front of her!
For the first time, she connected Wyatt’s last name with his. The name Parker was common enough that it never even occurred to her that they were related. Plus, Wyatt was thirty-seven and she didn’t think Cole was even twenty-five yet. Quite a big age span for siblings. But as she looked into Cole’s hazel eyes, she realized the shape of them mirrored Wyatt’s, as did the strong line of his jaw, which was currently covered in the dark stubble of a well-maintained chin strap beard.
“I’m sorry for carrying on like that,” she managed to say. She couldn’t believe her voice didn’t shake. Sweet Lord, Cole Parker was sitting in her station and looking right at her. Was she gawking? She prayed she wasn’t. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Everly and I’ll be your server this evening. We have a complete wine and bar menu that you can take your time and review, but can I get you started with something to drink?”
“I’ll have a Jack and Coke,” Cole said.
Wyatt lifted a brow.
“What?” Cole grumbled. “You’re driving.”
Shaking his head, Wyatt smiled at Everly and said, “Just water for me, thanks.”
“Hey, you—girl,” the woman at table nineteen barked with a snap of her fingers.
“I’ll be right back with those drinks,” Everly said, glancing between Cole and Wyatt to include them both in the statement.
Then she dug for more patience and turned back to deal with table nineteen.
* * *
Although Wyatt’s partner, Rowan, opened Prix Fixe about nine months ago, Cole hadn’t made the time to dine there. He should have, he realized now, as it was a five-star establishment in the heart of downtown, his typical stomping grounds.
It had a great vibe, he decided once the hostess brought him and Wyatt to their table. Lots of warm and vibrant colors, polished, rich woods, creatively-used etched glass, and creamy fabrics. Within only a few minutes of sitting in the waiting area, he’d seen that the restaurant ran like a well-oiled machine. Rowan had done well here, Cole decided.
His conclusion wasn’t drawn without careful observation. He’d had plenty of time to assess his surroundings since Wyatt insisted on sitting in one particular section of the restaurant. Cole didn’t understand what was so special about this section and why they even had to wait at all. His brother lived with the owner, for God’s sake. Didn’t that warrant a VIP pass or something?
He griped and complained for thirty minutes—never denting Wyatt’s inhuman calm—before they were finally led to their table. It was a booth large enough for only two people facing each other. On his left was a high wall of dark wood, and behind his head was a decorative piece of etched glass. It offered a nice level of privacy, he supposed. Not much to scream about, though, so he didn’t understand why Wyatt had insisted on sitting in this part of the restaurant. His brother could be so weird.
As he lifted his menu, a flash of red caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He glanced to his right and found himself looking at the back of whom he assumed would be their server. Her vibrant red hair was arranged in an artful design secured at the nape of her long, graceful neck. She wore the crisp, white, long-sleeved blouse, tailored black vest, and conforming black skirt that the other female servers did. Her long legs ended in practical black shoes with wedges for heels.
His attention shifted as he tuned into the conversation taking place between the server and the forty-something female at the table next to his and Wyatt’s. The woman’s tone was brisk and rude as she picked apart the menu and custom-ordered every part of her three-course meal. Cole probably would have stabbed her in the eye with a fork if he’d been dealing with her, but the server
kept her cool and remained polite and friendly. She even repeated the woman’s complicated order to confirm it before she turned to greet him and Wyatt.
He registered that she was pretty, which would only enhance his dinner experience in his opinion. Then she smiled at Wyatt. He realized that “pretty” had been a sad understatement on his part. He also realized that for the first time in longer than he could remember, a female was more excited over his brother’s presence than his. He wasn’t sure how that sat with him.
She hadn’t appeared to recognize him when she introduced herself. He guessed she wasn’t a sports fan. While her tone was professionally friendly when she addressed him, it lacked the same level of warmth she’d used with Wyatt. She clearly had boundaries. For some reason, that only piqued his interest.
When she excused herself and turned back to the table beside them, his gaze followed her.
“Yes, ma’am,” Everly said. “What can I do for you?”
“You can go and place our orders like you said you were going to,” the woman snapped. “Our business may not mean much to you, but we could have spent our hard-earned money elsewhere for this level of service.”
Cole frowned. He noticed that all of their drinks were nearly full and the table had a basket of different kinds of rolls on it. What the hell was wrong with the service?
“Of course,” Everly replied. “I apologize. I’ll bring your appetizers right out.”
“You’d better.”
Everly turned and walked toward the kitchen. Cole continued to stare at the woman glaring darts in Everly’s back. She started commenting on everything she found wrong with Everly and Prix Fixe as the other people at her table mumbled soft responses.
“Just ignore it, Cole,” Wyatt said as a young man carrying a water pitcher approached to fill their water glasses. “That kind of thing happens all the time.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s right,” Cole retorted, but he shrugged it off. Not his problem. “Rowan’s got a great place here. Thanks for dragging me out.”
Wyatt lifted a corner of his mouth after thanking the water server. “You’re welcome.”
“Is it always this packed?”
“Prix Fixe does a good amount of business. This is the time of year Rowan’s been waiting for, though. Holiday dinners, engagements, post-shopping indulgences…it all means a huge bump to the bottom line.”
“Nice.” Cole took a sip of water and nearly jumped when Everly appeared at his elbow with his cocktail and a basket of bread. “You’re like a ninja,” he told her.
One of her red eyebrows curved up. He was pretty sure he saw humor in her gaze.
“I get that a lot,” she said. “Here are some fresh rolls for you. There’s herbed butter and infused olive oil on the table that serve as delicious accompaniments to the bread. Have you gentlemen had a chance to review the menu?”
“I haven’t even looked at it,” Cole admitted. “What do you recommend?”
She appeared thoughtful. “Judging by your cocktail of choice, I’d recommend the crab risotto, braised boneless short ribs, and pumpkin pecan tart with a whiskey butter drizzle.”
He grinned. “That sounds amazing. Let’s roll with it.”
“Excellent.” She turned to Wyatt. “Rowan said you’ll love the scallops today.”
“Sign me up,” Wyatt said. “The risotto sounds good, too. Something chocolate for dessert.”
“Of course,” she said with another of her smiles. “I’ll be back shortly with those appetizers.”
Although she moved off to check on her other tables, Cole somehow sensed that she would get their orders right. The sharp look in her eye convinced him. He found himself wanting her to come back so he could look into those eyes again. They were an almost unnatural shade of blue-green. She probably wore colored contacts to achieve that brilliant turquoise color.
“Enchanting, isn’t she?” Wyatt said, following his gaze. “Such a lovely young woman.”
“She only shared her real smile with you,” Cole observed, watching her interact with the other patrons. “It’s more reserved with everyone else.”
Including me, he silently added.
“Everly reserves her genuine feelings for those she cares about. Here at the restaurant, she’s just doing her job.”
The other patrons didn’t seem to notice, Cole realized. They interacted with her in a way that said they thought she was doing a great job. Well, everyone but the nutty woman at the next table.
“As you probably noticed, I arranged for us to be seated in Everly’s section,” Wyatt went on.
“Sure I noticed,” Cole said, taking a sip of his Jack and Coke. “My stomach ate my left leg while we sat in the waiting area.”
Wyatt reached for a roll. “I thought it might be helpful for you to get a sense of Everly, so this seemed the best way to do that.”
“Get a sense of her for what?”
Glancing pointedly at the glass as Cole again sipped his drink, Wyatt said, “For providing you what you need to relieve your pain without resorting to that.”
Chapter 3
“Are you shitting me right now?”
“No, Cole. I am not, in fact, shitting you.”
Cole wasn’t sure whether to get steamed over his brother’s sober-faced response or to laugh, so he took another swig of his drink instead. His gaze moved to Everly as she walked out from the kitchen with one of the kitchen staff, each of them carrying trays of food to the table next to theirs. He studied her as she supervised the distribution of the appetizers, remembering who ordered what and ensuring everyone had what they needed to enjoy this part of their meal. Another server carried a tray containing drink refills, which Everly also distributed. Only when the table agreed that everything looked perfect did she turn to another table.
She certainly was efficient and paid attention to detail, he’d give her that. Still, pinning his athletic future on this young waitress didn’t sit well. Not at all.
“Has she even graduated from high school?” he asked, his gaze not moving from her as she checked on a couple enjoying their desserts. “She doesn’t even look old enough to serve alcohol in most states.”
“And here I always thought Everly was years beyond her age,” Wyatt murmured.
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Everly will be twenty-three on February tenth.”
That seemed like a personal detail for his brother to know off the top of his head. It finally drew Cole’s attention back to him. “How do you know that?”
Wyatt finished his bread and drank some of his water before saying, “Try a roll. The carbs won’t kill you, and even if they do, it’ll be well worth it.” He waited until Cole complied before continuing. “I’ve worked with Everly for a couple of years now. She’s close to earning her doctorate in physical therapy at GSU. It’s one of the top programs of its kind. She’s the youngest student I’ve ever seen enter it. She got special permission to take college courses while she was still in high school, and finished her bachelor’s degree by the time she turned twenty. With her stellar academic record and years of volunteer work in sports rehab, she was a shoe-in for the DPT program. From the first class I taught her, I’ve admired her focus and determination.”
Having entered the majors at the age of twenty after serving only one year in the minors, Cole could appreciate that. Young and talented was a familiar combination. But the last thing he’d envisioned when sighting Everly was having her work with him in a professional capacity.
“I still don’t see why you can’t reach out to a doctor you know who might want to make some cash on the side,” Cole pressed, dipping his roll into the rather addicting olive oil mixture. “Someone experienced who wouldn’t mind putting in some overtime.”
“Cole, most of my colleagues work sixty to eighty-hour weeks and make enough money that you probably couldn’t tempt them if you threw in a two-week vacation to Dubai.”
Cole frowned into his drink before tossing it back. He tried to ig
nore the throbbing in his shoulder. The alcohol lessened it, but it was always there.
“I’m not saying that one of them wouldn’t be tempted,” Wyatt continued, “but I don’t want to put them in a position where they have to basically lie in order to treat you.”
“It’s not a lie,” Cole argued. “I’m just asking them not to tell anyone about it.”
“And if they’re confronted by someone snooping into their outside dealings?”
“What they do in their own time—”
“Oh, you know better than that,” Wyatt interrupted.
“Can I get you gentlemen anything?” Everly asked, making Cole jerk. Where had she come from? She held a water pitcher and filled Wyatt’s glass.
He caught her gaze and held it. Yep, she wore contacts. He could see the faint outline of them. Why the hell did he care?
“I’ll take another Jack and Coke,” he said at last.
“Of course. I’ll be right back with your drink. The appetizers should be out in just a minute.”
When she moved over to clear some plates from the table next to theirs, Cole looked back at Wyatt. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to receive treatment by a student, Wy, genius or not. What if she screws up my arm even worse than it is?”
“Then you’ll get treated by a proper specialist, which you should do in the first place.”
Cole narrowed his gaze. “That’s not funny.”
“Hey, I’m just telling you like it is. You’re the one who thinks it’s worth risking under-the-table treatment in order to garner top dollar on your next contract.”
That wasn’t the only reason he was so concerned about keeping up appearances in regards to his physical health, but he let it pass. He knew how the business worked. There was no way he was going to come out to the public about his shoulder. Not if there was an alternative.
“What about another student?” Cole insisted. “Someone further along in their studies?” Preferably some Poindexter who doesn’t look so good in a skirt, he thought.