“I don’t know,” Rachel said. “It’s not like we’ve talked about it. But if he really cares about me, he’ll understand. Right?”
“That’s the hope,” Melody said.
Ana shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Our little girl is growing up. Next thing you know, we’ll be walking you down the aisle.”
“Stop.” Rachel threw her napkin at Ana and they all dissolved into laughter. “Anyway, it’s not like I have any time to think about it. This next supper club might be the one. Alex has an investor coming.”
“What do you know about him?” Ana sipped her coffee and turned back to her plate.
Apparently, the interrogation about Alex was over. Rachel relaxed. “Only that it’s Bryan’s dad. He’s a real estate developer.”
Ana choked on her food, and Melody had to pat her on the back until she stopped coughing. “Mitchell Shaw? Please tell me you actually know who that is.”
“Should I? I barely know Bryan.”
“Ever hear of the Shaw Building?”
Rachel’s eyes widened. Everyone knew about the new development in Lower Downtown, near Union Station. It had been getting press ever since the foundation was laid. “Wait, he’s that Shaw?”
Ana nodded. “He’s a millionaire, maybe a billionaire for all I know. Developer, philanthropist, activist. Last I heard, they’re naming the new arts center at CU Boulder after him. He must have given a chunk of change to the program.”
Rachel’s stomach gave a brutal twist. She hadn’t put it together, but even she knew about the huge dinner parties and benefits and concerts that the Shaws put on multiple times a year for Denver’s elite businessmen and intellectuals. “I wish you hadn’t told me that.”
“Relax,” Ana said. “He’s probably eaten at one of your restaurants already. All you have to do is give him a vision for your new place, and he either likes it or he doesn’t. Hopefully he’ll like it. Because with the backing of Mitchell Shaw, your PR problems instantly go away.”
“He still has retail spaces open in his building,” Melody said. “You land him, you could potentially land a prime LoDo location.”
Rachel threw Melody an exasperated look. “You too? You’re supposed to be the one telling me that everything happens for a reason, and if it’s meant to be, it will be.”
“Oh, I still believe all that. But I also believe he can open doors for you that other investors couldn’t. Assuming you want to walk through them.”
Rachel took a deep breath and blew it back out. She had this. She was confident in her menu. It was well-balanced in flavor, texture, and theme; complex without being fussy; technique-dependent but not too showy. Anyone who knew food would know the effort it took to make it look effortless and be suitably impressed. Assuming she pulled it off like she knew she could.
No, no reason to borrow trouble. She may not know what to do about her relationship with Alex, but she knew how to cook. It was the one thing she’d always been good at, the one thing that never let her down. She could do this.
“Yes, you can,” Melody said, squeezing her hand across the table. Apparently Rachel had said that last part out loud. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“Alex’s sister is running food for me. She’s amazing, so no worries there.”
No, Dina was the least of Rachel’s concerns. Usually her brunch meetings with her friends made her feel better, but now the stakes for her future felt ten times higher.
With Mitchell Shaw. And with Alex.
Chapter Twenty-Six
AS LONG AS RACHEL didn’t think about what was at stake, she was fine. She had plenty to keep her busy. The entirely new menu needed to be tested and tweaked and tested again. Lists were made, orders for specific ingredients placed. Everything she needed to pull off the most important meal of her life, listed in precise, minute-by-minute detail.
And yet if she wasn’t careful, she found herself daydreaming about Alex when she should be concentrating on her work. It didn’t help that he’d been peppering her with flirty texts since Saturday afternoon, making her feel like a giddy teenager.
She was in the middle of cleaning a tray full of fresh trout when a message popped up on her lock screen.
What are you wearing right now? Please tell me it’s those sexy kitchen clogs . . .
Rachel snorted a laugh. She cleaned her hands so she could pick up her phone, angled the camera so he could see not only her messy-haired, aproned self, but the fish guts in all their slimy glory. She sent it back with the message: Living the life. How about you?
A couple minutes later, his response came: Questioning my choice of careers. She tapped the attached photo to enlarge it and laughed so loud she was glad she was alone. Alex was sitting at his laptop in a T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair sticking up in all directions like he’d just rolled out of bed, wearing a hangdog grimace as he pointed to his laptop screen.
Without considering her response, she tapped out: Not fair. Even with bed head you are about the hottest guy on the planet.
And then the message sat there. Dread crept into her. That had been a stupid thing to say, hadn’t it? She was terrible at dating, this flirty text thing. What did she know about men? She could be one of the guys at work, sure, but dating? She was a total—
His message came through. Liar. But you just wrecked my concentration. Now all I can think about is how much I’d rather be with you. Sure I can’t see you before Friday?
Rachel sucked in a breath, her chest tightening and her heart lodging in her throat. It had gone from flirty to serious in one text message. Was it possible he felt the same way about her that she did about him?
She stared at the screen until the backlight shut off. She should respond. But what did a girl say to that? She finally managed an answer: No, but it will be worth the wait.
It always is.
She flushed. I meant the food.
I didn’t.
Rachel let herself smile at the exchange for a minute, then put her phone aside and went back to the decidedly unglamorous fish-cleaning job. Now she wished Alex were here with her, even if it were to simply lean against the counter beside her and ask questions. Her heart squeezed in her chest so hard it made her momentarily breathless.
How had he so rapidly become such a big part of her life? How had she gone from a woman perfectly content with her career and her own company to one who felt Alex’s absence like physical pain? It was as if acknowledging to her friends that she’d fallen for him had flipped a switch, no matter how hard she tried to maintain some emotional distance.
The week couldn’t pass quickly enough.
* * *
When Alex knocked at Rachel’s door at ten after three on Friday afternoon, she was ready. She had blown out her hair and put on a smidge of makeup. Melody’s flares had made a reappearance with a drapey T-shirt she’d picked up on a whim last night. For a long moment, she doubted her choices, hand on the knob. Was she trying too hard? After all, this wasn’t a date.
The concerns flew from her mind when she opened the door and saw Alex standing there, hands in the pockets of his jeans, a faded T-shirt straining across the muscles in his chest and shoulders. His hair still looked wet from the shower, a guess confirmed by the fresh waft of his soap.
Her insides gave a twist at being in his presence again. And from the way he was looking at her now, she didn’t regret the extra effort a single bit.
“Sorry I’m late. I got caught up at the gym.”
Time well spent, she thought. She stepped aside for him. “It’s fine. I had things to finish up anyway.”
He stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. “You look pretty.”
“Just pretty?” she teased. “You’re a writer and that’s the best you can come up with?”
“You’re right. Especially after you called me the hottest guy on the planet this week.” He crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a front-row view of impressively muscled forearms and proving that as
sertion completely plausible. “You are ‘a thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.’”
Rachel’s lips quivered. “You cheated. That’s Shakespeare.”
“You recognized it! I’m impressed!”
“I saw The Tempest at Shakespeare in the Park years ago, and that line stuck with me.”
“You’ll have to forgive my stealing, because when I’m around you, I’m stunned speechless.”
Rachel’s smile broke free. “Okay, that was pretty good. That earns you a kiss.”
Alex didn’t say anything. Instead he pulled her gently toward him, one hand at the small of her back, the other sliding up to tangle in her hair. She forgot everything else the minute his lips were on hers, gentle and sure, the hard beat of her own heart an ancient pulse that made her fears feel distant, irrelevant. This was dangerous—the way he made her feel, his ability to make her forget everything but him. She knew it and yet didn’t have it in her to stop.
Somewhere in her house, the antique clock chimed the quarter hour, reminding her of the day’s agenda. She pulled away enough to talk. “We need to get Dina.”
“Dina can wait.” Alex dipped his head to kiss her again.
She ducked out of his embrace, feeling a little shaky. “No, she can’t. Did you tell her I was coming?”
“She threatened to disown me if I didn’t bring you. I’m beginning to think she’s doing a little matchmaking.” He opened the door for her as she grabbed her purse, then waited while she locked up behind them. “Actually, I was hoping you might be able to help me.”
“How so?”
Alex walked her to the car and held the passenger door open. Only when he was seated in the driver’s side did he finally answer. “I’ve been worried about Dina, and she’s dodging my questions. I was hoping that since she admires you, you might be able to get more out of her than I can.”
“What’s going on, exactly? She seemed perfectly fine when I met her, but of course I don’t have a frame of reference.”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t seemed happy lately, but she denies that anything is wrong. I think the whole acting thing is taking a toll on her.”
“Acting is a rough gig. Everyone goes through moments of doubting their calling. Look at me.”
“Which is exactly why I thought you might get through to her. If anyone understands what it’s like to fight for your dream, it’s you.”
The raw admiration in his voice took her off guard. “I’m just doing what I know how to do, Alex. I’m no hero.”
“Tell that to my sister. I think she’s got herself a bit of a girl crush.”
“She does, huh? And what about you?”
He shot her a wicked smile. “I have an entirely different sort of crush.”
Rachel fought a smile as she sat back and watched the city slide by her window. Fortunately, they had gotten a jump on the afternoon traffic, so the route to the eastern edge of the city was clear and fast. They were pulling into the airport return loop when his cell phone beeped. Alex handed it to Rachel. “Can you see if that’s her?”
Hesitantly, she took the phone. He wanted her to check his messages? That was a very committed-relationship thing to do. A guy didn’t hand over his phone unless he had absolutely nothing to hide.
She swiped the lock screen. It was indeed Dina. “She’s already here. Waiting for us outside door 509.”
“Great timing.” Alex switched lanes to go to the arrivals level and fell into the slow-moving queue, while Rachel kept an eye out for his sister.
“There she is!”
Alex whipped into a spot at the curb being vacated by a badly parked taxi a few feet away from a sweatshirt-clad girl with a bright-pink owl suitcase.
Rachel immediately opened the passenger door, intending to get into the backseat, but Alex shook his head at her and popped the trunk. This was apparently a well-rehearsed procedure. Dina threw the roller bag in the open hatch, slammed the door, then slid into the backseat.
“Hey, Bro.” She winked at Alex before turning her attention to Rachel. “I was hoping you might come along.”
“Thanks for the invitation,” Rachel said immediately. “I never turn down a trip to the food truck pod.”
Dina put on her seat belt, the signal for Alex to pull back out into the lane. “You’re better company than my brother, for sure.”
“Hey,” Alex said.
“Sorry.” Dina smirked at him and went back to Rachel. “So you ready for tomorrow? Alex tells me that Mr. Shaw is going to be there.”
“You know him?”
“Sure. Alex practically lived over at their house when he was a kid. Well, he actually lived there his senior year of high school. So they’re somewhere between friends of the family and second family.” Dina lowered her voice to a mock whisper. “I had a mad crush on Bryan when I was in high school. I know, how cliché of me, right?”
Rachel threw an amused glance at Alex before twisting around to face Dina. “I really appreciate you coming back to help out. You did such an amazing job last time, putting everyone at ease. Though I’m sorry to pull you away from your regular job. I imagine as good a server as you are, you probably live off your weekend tips.”
Might as well get started on the info-gathering mission.
Dina stared out the window. “I quit.”
Alex glanced in the rearview mirror, his sudden tension evident in his posture. “What happened? Everything was going so well.”
“It’s okay. It was time to move on anyway.” Once more, Dina’s expression shuttered. Maybe Alex was right. There was definitely more to this than just losing her job.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
ALEX SILENTLY CALLED himself names while he drove. Just when Rachel was getting somewhere with Dina, he had to go and push. Just like his parents. No wonder Dina wouldn’t talk to him.
Rachel reached over and squeezed his hand before she changed the subject. “If you don’t mind, Dina, I could use your help setting up the patio. It’s getting late in the summer and things aren’t in bloom anymore, so it’s going to need to be laid out a little differently. I want an elegant, intimate sort of feel for dinner on the roof deck. I’ve been thinking I’d love to find a restaurant with a similar roof space, so this will be a good way to show the kind of ambience I have in mind.”
“What kind of food would you serve?” Dina seemed grateful to be able to move on to a different topic.
“Modern Continental, local and organic. That’s where the trends seem to be staying, the food court and truck craze aside.”
“You should do a food truck,” Dina said. “Rachel’s Roach Coach.”
Rachel groaned. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I would call it.”
“No, really! You could get a red double-decker bus and put little tables on the top if you want roof deck seating.”
“You know,” Alex said, nudging Rachel’s arm, “that’s not such a bad idea.” She shot him an incredulous look, and he joined his sister in her laughter.
Dina started talking about some of the food trucks she frequented in LA, and she pulled out her phone to show Rachel her favorites on Twitter. Rachel took the phone from her and scrolled down with a laugh. “I know this guy!”
“Really?” Dina looked suddenly interested.
“Yeah, he worked for a restaurant in Berkeley where I staged for several months. Great cook, but he always chafed a little at the thought of fine dining. Said that high-quality food should be accessible to all, not just the people who could fork over two or three hundred bucks on a dinner. I hadn’t realized he’d started a food truck. It’s a good fit for him.”
“But that never interested you?” Alex glanced at Rachel, gauging her response. All this effort to find an investor for her restaurant, when she could probably buy and outfit a truck and have it under way immediately.
“Fine dining is what I do best,” she said with a shrug. “Besides, there’s a season for food trucks in Denver, so it can make for some lean winte
rs if you’re not careful.”
“I think there would be a year-round demand for Rachel’s Mobile Kebab Shack,” Dina said.
Despite the Friday afternoon traffic, they got to the truck pod in record time, before their favorites had even arrived. Most of the trucks didn’t arrive until five on Fridays, where they would remain into the wee hours of the morning for the last-call bar patrons and club-goers; they’d be back late morning the next day to start all over again.
“What do you want to do?” Rachel asked. “We can wait for the others to show up, or we can take it as divine instruction to eat bao for dinner today.”
“Bao’s fine,” Dina said. “Woman can’t live on duck-fat fries alone, can she?”
“She can try,” Alex and Rachel said simultaneously, and then shared a grin. Either they were rubbing off on each other, or this was just more proof of how ridiculously compatible they were. Or maybe he was looking for signs now that he realized how unprepared he was to let her go.
They were the first in line at the steamed bun truck when it opened its windows, and soon they had claimed one of the many empty seats on the garishly painted patio. Rachel took the seat directly across from Dina while Alex sat beside her. He dug into his bao, savoring the pillowy texture of the bun. When they’d made a dent in their food, he asked casually, “So how did all the callbacks go?”
Dina hung her head over her food and didn’t answer.
Alex nudged her arm. “Dina?”
When Dina raised her head, there were tears in her eyes. She looked at him, the shame clear on her face. “I lied.”
He frowned, then quickly put away the expression when Rachel shot him a warning look. “Lied about what?”
“There weren’t any callbacks. There haven’t been for a while. The job I booked in February was for a girl’s princess birthday party. I played Jasmine.” Dina dipped her head again, letting her tears drip into her food. “I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why not? You know I support you no matter what. It’s a rough business. I get that.”
The Saturday Night Supper Club Page 24