Love Wins

by David C. Dawson

  “I think it sounds fine.” Patrick blinked. He had almost expected to argue with the old man, probably in his fifties or sixties. “You’re Patrick Levine, right? Nephew to Martin Levine? I used to know him.”

  “I…. Yes.” Patrick smiled. Of course. It made sense that his uncle would be well-known, and it made him happy. “I live in his old house now.”

  The professor nodded. “He was a good man. Enjoy your research.”

  “Thank you.” Patrick couldn’t stop smiling as he left the room. His granduncle had made more of a difference than he realized.

  Or maybe he had realized it. That entry had been old, after all.

  In the hall, he ran into the one person he really wanted to see.

  Timothy cocked his head. “You seem happy.”

  He had to make the joke. He had to try. He didn’t want any regrets. “I’m downright gay,” Patrick said. “Literally. Want to grab some dinner tonight?”

  Timothy paused, then guffawed. “I knew it,” he said. “Took you long enough. We’re not all a bunch of rednecks out here—not anymore, anyway.” He grinned. “I’m so glad you finally asked me. Of course, I’d love to.”

  Patrick beamed. “Great. I can tell you about my new project.”

  Patrick looked out the window at a blue sky as he fell into step beside Timothy. Wherever his granduncle was now, wherever Todd was, wherever all the old warriors were… their work, to this day, made a difference. Their hard work was something to look to for inspiration to deal with hardships in the future.

  And Patrick would keep the hard work, and the pride, going strong.

  RAVON SILVIUS lives in a tiny apartment with two tiny cats in a tiny town in the United States. Despite the cramped living quarters, Ravon enjoys coming up with big ideas for novels, with some plots coming from Ravon’s current profession as a neuroscience researcher and others coming purely from Ravon’s imagination. A huge fan of anime, video games, and science fiction and fantasy, Ravon appreciates a good story that is well-distanced from our current reality, whether it be in the far future, the distant past, or on a completely different world altogether.

  Website: ravonsilvius.blogspot.com

  Twitter: @RavonSilvius

  E-mail: Ravonsilvius@gmail.com

  The Insomniac Sommelier

  By Julie Lynn Hayes

  Kirk Westmoreland dreams of owning his own restaurant someday, but for now he fights insomnia while working at family-owned Venezia with his control-freak older brother. After work he tries to de-stress at Sweeties, a small diner run by his sister and her wife. When Kirk meets the diner’s new server, Ashley, he ends up going home with him—to the best sleep he’s had in forever. If he can’t keep his life at Sweeties compartmentalized from his life at Venezia, Kirk will have to decide which one he’s willing to give up.

  “HOW IS it that, even at two in the morning, you manage to look like you just stepped off the cover of GQ?”

  Kirk Westmoreland lifted his head, momentarily confused. Lost in his own little world, he’d been poring over the pages of his wish book. It lay open across the table of the booth where he sat. Oblivious to the world around him, he hadn’t been aware of his sister’s presence until she spoke.

  “Do they have one for sommeliers that I was unaware of?” he riposted.

  “Yeah, and Tyler’s on the cover this month,” Jennifer countered.

  Kirk flinched. That shot, whether it was meant to be taken as such, struck far too close to home for his liking.

  “Naturally,” he said. “Where else would he be?” Tyler was his one and only brother, his elder by six years as well as his roommate. They’d shared an apartment ever since Kirk had gotten out of college. He’d been studying for his guild wine certification at the time, while Tyler was freshly divorced. Six years later, Kirk had a pretty good idea why his brother was no longer married—he was a complete and utter control freak. As well as a major ass.

  Jennifer leaned across the table, staring at the wish book. “Looks nice, Kirk,” she said. “Your place is gonna be beautiful, I can tell.”

  “If I ever get a place,” he mumbled, lowering his head once more.

  “Gosh, way to be upbeat and positive, Mr. Doom-and-Gloom.” She ruffled his short brown hair before depositing a kiss on top of his head. “You’re lucky I let you hang out here at all hours of the night. You and your insomnia.”

  “It’s an all-night diner,” he pointed out, pulling away from her intrusive fingers. “Who else would be here this time of the morning? Normal gourmands are long abed.”

  “Gourmands.” Jennifer laughed as she stood once more. Putting her hands to her spine, she stretched backward until Kirk heard a pop. “Honey, if you’re looking for fine dining, this isn’t the place to be. Don’t you get enough of that at Venezia?”

  “No, I guess I don’t. That’s why I want a place of my own.”

  “You’ll get it someday,” she encouraged him. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.”

  “Thanks. Want to embroider that? I can hang it in my living room. Right next to ‘Love thy brother.’”

  “I’ll get right on that.”

  Jennifer laughed again. She laughed a lot, a marked contrast to the serious sommelier who was her brother. One of her brothers. But Kirk was the one she was closest to. They shared similar looks, both tall brunettes with slender builds, but Jennifer’s eyes were a warm brown to Kirk’s cool gray ones. And her hair tumbled down onto her shoulders when it wasn’t contained in a net, whereas he maintained a fairly close-cropped hairstyle that was more befitting to his job, as well as his temperament. Even in his younger days, he’d never worn it long, never even toyed with the idea. The major difference between the siblings was that Kirk had been employed at the family restaurant, Venezia, one of the most elegant dining establishments in the entire Sonoma Valley, since he was old enough to work. Jennifer, on the other hand, was the rebellious child. She’d left the family business to pursue her own dreams. Now she was the night manager of an all-night diner named Sweeties, and she was married to the love of her life, Jazmine, living in an apartment just a short walk away. It didn’t hurt that Jazmine—Jazzy for short—was employed at Sweeties on a part-time basis. She worked the counter and helped out in the kitchen as needed. Kirk loved the buxom blonde to death.

  “But seriously,” his sister began, just as a slightly brassy voice drifted from the kitchen.

  “Jen?”

  Kirk looked up again. “Let me guess. Jazzy wants to go on break, and you want me to cover the grill?”

  “If you don’t mind, dear sweet kind handsome wonderful brother.”

  He rolled his eyes as he closed the wish book. “Please. Flattery gets you nowhere, but lies’ll take you to hell.”

  Despite his words, he unfolded himself from the booth and smoothed his trousers. He did indeed look as though he’d stepped from the pages of a men’s magazine. Even in the wee hours of the morning, he looked good. His suit didn’t look like something a short-order cook would wear, though, even a temporary one.

  “So when are you going to replace Freddy?”

  “I did. With Gus. You never met him. He went outside for his first break, said he was going to smoke a cigarette, and never came back.” She gave him a what-are-you-gonna-do look.

  “Lovely. I don’t understand how, with the economy the way it is, you can’t find good help. Good thing for you I know how to cook, or you two would never have a love life.”

  “Now that is patently untrue,” Jennifer protested, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “In fact, if you knew what went on in that kitchen—”

  He placed his finger across her lips. “Frankly, I don’t want to know. Put my book in the office for safekeeping, will you?”

  “Of course I will. Thank you, bro.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek, picking up the wish book and cradling it as if it were a treasure. “I owe you one.”

  “You owe me more than one, but who’s counting?” In spite of himself, he smi
led. “Get on with you. Take as long as you like. I’m here anyway, right?”

  “Yeah, you are. You should be home in bed, asleep, but I’m glad you’re here,” she said frankly. “Tell Jazzy I’m in the office, willya? Oh, and just so you know, Bobby’s last night is Friday. He got some gig in San Francisco, and he’s gonna move there.”

  “Swell. Just what you need. Have any new servers lined up to take his place?”

  “I’m interviewing tomorrow. Want to send someone over from Venezia?” she teased.

  “I don’t think you can compete tipwise,” he observed. “You didn’t put another ad online, did you?”

  “What if I did?” she asked defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with that. People look there. Plus it’s free.”

  “I know it’s free,” Kirk replied. “But you get what you pay for, remember that. Just be careful.”

  “Hey, what are the odds of hiring another wanted fugitive, huh?” She placed her hands on her hips and thrust up her chin almost defiantly.

  “I shudder to think,” he countered smoothly. “Once was enough for me. Please be careful, will you?” He spun her about, pointing her in the direction of the small, crowded office. “Go on. I’ll send Jazzy back for her conjugal.”

  Jennifer laughed out loud. “I don’t know why people say you have no sense of humor, you’re a riot.” She half skipped, half danced her way across the dining room, earning her a few glances from the patrons. Most were too familiar with her ways to look up.

  Kirk shook his head. He walked behind the counter, nodding at the young man there. Between customers, the server perched on a red-and-chrome stool, a paperback in his hands.

  “Taking over, Kirk?” he asked as he flipped a page in the book.

  “Yeah, for a bit. Hear you’re leaving us for San Francisco. Friday, is it?”

  “Yeah.” The young man looked up and smiled. “Got a sweet job playing a bistro there. Might turn into something really big. Wish me luck.”

  “Luck.” Kirk nodded before he pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen. He’d already noticed Jazzy sticking her head through the window. Probably looking for him. She turned about at his entrance, already removing her apron.

  “Thanks, Kirk, I appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” he said. “I don’t mind. Especially since I get the chance to practice my culinary skills.”

  “I thought wine was your thing?” she asked.

  “It is. It was. I don’t know. Tyler’s the head sommelier and probably always will be. I need to think ahead, think beyond Venezia. To a place of my own.”

  “You’re so right there,” Jazzy said. “You’re better than that place, Kirk. Nothing against Brad and Linda. I mean, I love them to death and everything….”

  Brad and Linda Westmoreland were the owners of Venezia, as well as being Tyler, Kirk, and Jennifer’s parents. Kirk knew exactly what his sister-in-law meant. His parents sometimes forgot they had three children, tending to dote, rather excessively at times, on their elder son. He’d learned to live with it, as had his sister. He’d come to the realization that no matter what he did, Tyler would always come first with them. Also Kirk knew he had no real chance of becoming head sommelier at Venezia, so he’d changed up his game plans a little bit. Now he dreamed of a restaurant of his own. The wish book he carried with him into Sweeties in the middle of the night contained his ideas and his inspirations, as well as recipes and photos and tons and tons of notes.

  “You know, honey, I don’t know why you let him do this to you,” Jazmine began.

  Kirk smelled the same old lecture coming down the pike, so he cut it off quickly.

  “Jen’s waiting for you,” he reminded her, rewarded by the blush that crept across her already heat-reddened cheeks. She pushed stray tendrils of her hair behind her ears as she removed her net.

  “Okay, I get it. But you know what I mean.” She wagged her finger at him before heading out the door.

  He did know, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  ANOTHER ROUGH night at Venezia. Kirk took a deep breath as he slid into an empty booth and set his wish book on the table, not bothering to open it. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the faux-leather seat, willing the world to go away.

  Well, not all of it. Mostly his brother. Although he wasn’t all that enamored of his parents at the moment either. Could they never take his side, or even admit that he might possibly have a good idea, even if it was something different than what they were used to? Wasn’t that what innovation and creativity were all about? To find new ways to do old things?

  Not as far as the Westmorelands were concerned, it wasn’t.

  No wonder he suffered from insomnia. Too much on his mind and none of it good.

  “Welcome to Sweeties, what can I get you?”

  A strange voice intruded on his thoughts. Kirk’s eyes flew open. A fresh-faced blond with bright blue eyes and a friendly grin stared back at him.

  “I didn’t think you were asleep, since you just came in,” the blond half apologized, half explained. “You weren’t, were you?”

  “Weren’t what?”

  “Asleep.”

  “No, I wasn’t asleep.” Who the hell was this, and what did he want with him? For a moment, Kirk’s sleep-deprived brain refused to function properly. Until all of a sudden it hit him. This must be the new server Jen said she was going to hire. Looked like she found this one at the local high school. “Where’s Jen?”

  “I think she’s in the kitchen. Did you want her for something?” He set a plastic-coated menu in front of Kirk expectantly.

  Kirk didn’t even know why he’d asked. She’d see him out here and come out when she had the chance. In the meantime, he’d handle Junior on his own. The menu was something he didn’t need. He knew it by heart. Plus, if he wanted something to eat, he’d go into the kitchen and make it. Not that he expected the boy to know that.

  “No. Just bring me some coffee. Black,” he said tersely. “I didn’t think they let high schoolers work this late.” It must be 3:00 a.m. easily.

  The young man shot Kirk a bemused glance. “I wouldn’t know about that,” he said. “I’m twenty-two. And before you ask, I’m not in college either. My name’s Ashley, by the way.”

  “Isn’t that a girl’s name?” Kirk blurted out.

  “It can be,” Ashley said agreeably. “My mother named me after someone in Gone with the Wind. A dude, apparently.”

  “I’m familiar with the story,” Kirk snapped. “Can I get my coffee, please?” For just a moment, he thought he saw the server’s smile falter, but then he recovered his equanimity as he flashed his teeth.

  “Right away.” Ashley laid his hand across Kirk’s for just a split second, taking Kirk by surprise. But then Ashley spun about, heading toward the counter, and the contact was broken.

  Snotty little punk.

  So why was he watching him walk away, his eyes riveted on the guy’s nicely rounded ass? Maybe because it had been a very long time since Kirk had gotten laid, lack of time and lack of location being his primary obstacles. Even if he’d had the chance to look for a bed partner, he couldn’t very well bring him back to the apartment and brave the wrath of his brother, who had a conniption fit if he made the tiniest sound in the middle of the goddamn night. That was the downside of living rent-free, courtesy of his parents. Not like he could ask Tyler to move. More than likely he’d be the one to wind up homeless. No wonder he fled to Sweeties when he couldn’t sleep, the only place he knew he was welcome.

  He didn’t want sex; he only wanted to sleep. The thought would have been more convincing if he hadn’t just wondered what Ashley’s mouth tasted like.

  He tore his eyes away almost guiltily and opened the wish book, flipped through a few pages without seeing them, then closed it again. Hearing a throat clear, he glanced up to find Ashley standing there once more. The server set a steaming cup on the table in front of him. Kirk assumed that would be the end of
it. He’d go back to doing whatever he needed to do behind the counter. Wait on someone else. But Ashley never moved a muscle. Kirk gave him a curious look.

  “So you’re Kirk, are you?”

  Kirk started at the unexpected question. “What, is it written somewhere?”

  Ashley jerked a thumb behind him, and Kirk followed the gesture. Jen stood behind the counter now, Jazzy beside her. They waved at him, wearing similar cheesy grins. That figured.

  “You’ve got a terrific sister, and her wife’s pretty fab too,” Ashley said. “Jen hired me just this morning, at my interview. How terrific is that?”

  “Terribly terrific,” Kirk said as sarcastically as he could. “She’s a regular saint. Right up there with Joan of Arc.”

  “I hope not,” Ashley said. “I’d hate to see her end up flambéed.”

  Pretty fancy word for a guy who waited tables at an all-night diner. “Don’t tell me, you’re working your way through culinary school?”

  Ashley laughed. “No, I watch Food Network a lot. I like to see how they cook things. It’s pretty cool.”

  Kirk could hardly argue with that. He’d been riveted to the channel himself from a young age while his parents spent hours at their restaurant. Maybe he’d thought watching shows about cooking would bring him closer to them. He was wrong about that. But the programs had awakened his own interest in food and wine.

  Good thing, since he and his siblings had all been pressed into service at Venezia as soon as they were old enough to be useful.

  “So you’re not in college and you’re not in culinary school. What do you do with your days?” Kirk couldn’t believe he’d asked, or that he was even continuing this conversation. And when had Ashley taken a seat across from him?

  Ashley shrugged. “I was looking for a job before. Now I guess I’ll sleep.”

  Didn’t that sound nice?

  “Sure, but there’s more to life than sleeping. What do you like to do?”