Beyond Believing

by D. D. Marx

  Sweet Jesus. Who is here? I’m naked and it’s daytime. There isn’t an ounce of clothing within arm’s length. I hear the back-gate open, followed by “Hello? Olivia . . . are you back here?”

  “Ummmmmmmm, yes, but I’m in the hot tub and, ummmmmm, I don’t have any clothes on . . . or a towel.” Just as I scramble, I see this beautiful specimen of a man round the corner and see him get an eye full of naked me. I do, however, manage to cover the essentials.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’ll give ye a second and meet ye at the front door,” he states.

  “Okay, thanks,” I yell. “Shit, shit. Oh my God, oh my God. The only thing that could be worse would be him seeing all my parts in motion as I run to get inside. Mortifying. Who is this guy, and how the hell does he know my name?

  As fast as I can, I get into the house and put on a bathrobe. I take one quick glimpse in the mirror to see that I have mascara dripping down my face. I run a Q-tip underneath my eyes in the smallest attempt at being presentable. I twirl my hair up into a bun on top of my head and throw a clip in and head for the front door. I hesitate as I open the door.

  “Um . . . hi, I’m Olivia, Garrett’s cousin.” Okay, now that I’m up close, I cannot believe how good looking this man is. He should be considered illegal in many countries. He’s six feet one, dark brown hair, baby blue eyes, athletic build, and an ass so tight you can bounce a quarter off it. Wow.

  “Aye, Olivia, I’m Finn McDaniels, the caterer for Garrett’s grand opening. Sorry to impose, he told me ye were aware that I was coming.” I’m done for. He opens his mouth to reveal his sexy Scottish accent. Feeling myself staring like a teenager, I jerk myself back to reality.

  “No, no, that’s okay, I just arrived last night, and he was out of the house before I got up this morning. Please, come in. Can you just give me another minute?”

  “Take yer time,” he says.

  “Coffee is in the kitchen. Please, help yourself.” As I slink back to the bedroom, I see a Post-It note taped to my bedroom door.

  Good Morning Sweetie,

  Hot caterer coming to finalize menu at nine-thirty this morning. Tristan and I had to run back to LA for an issue at Cotton. Can you please handle?

  X,

  G.

  Right, of course. So, if I was a normal person and left my bedroom through the actual bedroom door, I would have seen this note. Figures. I rifle through the gym bag, hoping I have an emergency sexy outfit packed away for a rainy day. No such luck. A pair of jeans and a sweater. The sweater will be too hot, so I have to put my work blouse back on. Really? So I’m going to go from naked to a professional on top and casual on the bottom in two minutes. I’m like a living mullet. Of course, I am. Only me. Dan, seriously, can you ever toss me a bone? I throw on the jeans and blouse, pinch my cheeks, dab on some lipstick, run my fingers through my hair, and head back out to the kitchen.

  Chapter Ten

  (Finn)

  Finn, change of plans. Tristan and I have an emergency back in LA, so we are driving back now. My cousin Olivia is at the house and will fill in for the tasting. She flew in last night and was still asleep when we left. She doesn’t have a car, so she will be there all day. I left her a note that you are coming. Have fun.

  I re-read his text to ensure I didn’t get the time wrong when she returns, looking a little disheveled but adorable.

  “Take two. So, sorry about that; it’s very nice to meet you. I got in late last night, so I am not up on all the details. Please, fill me in and let me know what I can help you with,” she says as she escorts me into the kitchen. It’s a large, bright space. Crisp white walls with a chef grade Viking stove and two sinks, one in the island and another farm house sink on the back wall. It has large cabinets, painted black, a marble counter top, and a large side by side Sub-Zero fridge.

  “What a glorious home. I’m not surprised; Garrett helped design my restaurant. He is bloody talented,” I say as she takes me through a tour of the rest of the home.

  “Yes, we consider ourselves lucky to have such talent in our family. I have yet to get him to Chicago to put the final touches on my condo, but he’s practically a celebrity, so I cut him some slack. He’s just a little busy,” she replies as we arrive back in the kitchen.

  “Well, I’m assuming you haven’t seen his new space.” I pull out the floor plan. “So, today I’m hoping to get the menu finalized since we’re only a few days out. I brought some samples with me. I have them in warming trays out in my van.”

  “Can I help you bring anything in?” she asks.

  “No thanks, I’m good. I just need a taste tester.”

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Well, most of these go very well with red wine,” I say, realizing I could use a glass of wine to take the edge off. I’m taken aback by my nerves. I’m flushed. My hands are a little sweaty. My body is having a physical reaction I wasn’t prepared for. She is lovely and not at all what I was expecting. Not that I was expecting anything. It feels different. One I haven’t had with a woman outside of a staff member, well, since Christine passed. I need to pull it together. I am borderline unprofessional and feel like I’m all thumbs.

  “Well, you know what they say. You can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning. But since you’re the foodie, I’m thinking you’d be better at making this decision. Garrett has a wine closet; should we pick something out?”

  “Let’s do it.” We head over to the wine closet and I scan the shelves and selections, and spot a bottle of Layer Cake. “This is one of my favorites. Let’s open this one.”

  “You won’t hear me arguing.” She opens the bottle and pours two glasses while I arrange the food on the platters she grabbed.

  “Okay, I prepared three dishes: shrimp bruschetta, lobster risotto, and scallops with caramelized pears on a skewer with a balsamic glaze. We’ll also have a large assortment of sushi,” I explain.

  “Wow, it all looks delicious. I need to pace myself so I can try all of it.”

  “You know what goes well with this? Music,” I say.

  “Oh, good call. Let me find Garrett’s Bose. I can’t guarantee it’s not full of Cher or show tunes, but we’ll give it a shot. Okay, now let’s see what we have here. What do you feel like? Soul music or jazz, perhaps? He has a jazz playlist. Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie and Billie Holliday.”

  “Perfect, next up . . . chevre and mango steak bites.”

  “These are all unbelievable; amazing and that’s not just the wine talking. Now where did you get these skills?” she asks.

  “My mum was an amazing cook. She was my real inspiration. We always hosted big Sunday dinners with all our relatives. I was an only child, so I found myself in the kitchen helping her prepare the meals. I decided to pursue culinary school and went to Le Cordon Blue Culinary School in France for professional training.” My eyes linger longer and longer taking her all in. She’s about five feett five, sandy blonde hair, amazing breasts, perfect build, and when she bent over to get the platters, I wanted to reach over and grab her perfect, tight ass.

  “Wow, that’s incredible. I’ve always admired people who pursued their life’s passion. I’m still trying to figure mine out.”

  “What do ye do?” I ask.

  “That’s a long story for another day. Let’s just say I’m currently on sabbatical,” she explains. “How long have you had your restaurant?” She changes the subject back to me.

  “I opened my restaurant last spring, and before that I was the head chef at a restaurant called Mint.”

  “Wait, Mint . . . in Las Vegas? No way. My friend and I were there a couple summers ago. They were about to start filming a reality show so she wanted to eat there. Did you work with that chef that won?”

  “Aye, I am the lad that won,” I respond as Liv and I start to get into a rhythm. She is easy to talk to, and I’m getting more comfortable in the kitchen.

  “Get o
ut. Really? That’s amazing.”

  “Aye, on a whim I applied to be a contestant on the show. I ended up winning and my career exploded,” I say.

  “Wow. I had no idea I was in the presence of greatness. I must be living under a rock. I have to admit I did’t watch the show, but it’s not surprising you won, judging by the taste of this food. It’s incredible. What I do find intriguing is you living in Sin City for a year. I’ve never been able to spend more than forty-eight hours in Vegas without feeling like I needed to enter rehab.”

  “It was a great opportunity that opened a lot of doors for me. I didn’t think anything would come out of it. I was just looking for a distraction at the time. When I came in first place, I thought it would give me exposure to the largest clientele,” I say.

  “Well, it looks like we’re going to need another bottle of wine. Shall I?” she asks.

  “Aye, that would be fantastic,” I answer as she walks away, giving me another opportunity to focus on that ass. What a pleasant surprise. She is incredible: beautiful, smart, and funny. She’s the first person I’ve connected with since I’ve been out here, but she doesn’t live in California. I want to see her again and she has no idea I saw her naked—that was fun. For now, I need to keep it professional. I would never want to cross a professional boundary with Garrett. He’s been such a great lad to know. I’ll play it cool for now. By the time she returns, I pulled out several more treats ready for her to taste.

  “I certainly didn’t plan on gaining five pounds today, but I guess this is the way to do it,” she jokes as her cell phone interrupts our tasting. She quickly excuses herself to take the call from Garrett.

  Chapter Eleven

  (Olivia)

  “Um, holy Finn McDaniels. Garrett, he’s the hottest thing ever,” I announce.

  “I know, right?” Garrett exclaims.

  “It might have been more fun to meet him not naked in the hot tub.”

  “What? You were naked in my hot tub? Ew.”

  “Priorities. Yes, I was taking a morning soak when he let himself in the back gate. I looked like a washed-up drug addict. Mascara running down my face, pale, I looked like death.”

  “Honey, he’s here for the food, not to take you out on the town. I’m pretty sure he’s gay, anyway,” he says.

  “No, really? Well, that makes me feel better about my appearance but are you sure? My gaydar is at zero.”

  “He’s the most eligible bachelor in all of Palm Springs, and you know how we gays love Palm Springs. I just put two and two together. Why else would he open a restaurant here? His love life is the most sought-after news in the desert. No one has ever seen him with a woman or a man, so the jury is still out but I’m eighty-five sure he’s gay,” he insists.

  “Okay, you’re killing me. The food is phenomenal; I can tell you that much. Are you sure you’re okay with me being the taste tester? The opening is going to be amazing. He brought samples of everything for me to taste. He said he’d be happy to have you, Tristan, and me for dinner if you weren’t comfortable just having me provide the approval.”

  “You know I trust you. I have too much other stuff going on to be worried about food. Case in point, they just shipped my entire accessory collection to Cotton in Dana Point instead of the new address. Tristan and I are debating if we should risk it and re-ship it or rent a truck and drive it back up ourselves.”

  “You, Mr. Control Freak, debating? Yeah, I’d say you should drive it up here. That way you know it gets here in one piece and on time. Oh, and by the way, we’ve had a couple bottles of your wine. I hope that’s all right, but I should run. I’ve got to get back to the kitchen. I’ve been gone for a few minutes. What time will you be home?”

  “We won’t drive back until morning, too much going on down here. Just please don’t have sex with him.”

  “Um, I thought he was gay. Bye.”

  I return to the kitchen and Finn is still busy preparing. I can tell he’s a master at the skill of cooking. He is so focused. There’s nothing sexier than a man who can cook. I crave a man like him. I need to figure out the scoop but don’t want to be too forward, so I start with something leading.

  “You know, they say . . . the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. What’s the way to a woman’s heart?”

  Changing the subject, he asks, “So are you and Garrett close?”

  I respond, “Yes. We’re more like siblings than cousins, only thirteen months apart and have been as thick as thieves since the play pen. We talk every day and finish each other’s sentences. He really is my best friend. We only ever lived in the same place during college but always managed to stay in touch. He moved out to California after college, met Tristan; they’ve been together ever since. He opened Cotton, which is flourishing so he decided to expand up here. I planned to come out next week, closer to the opening, but hopped on a plane last night. I figured he could use the help.”

  “Garrett’s a great guy. I met him and Tristan about a year ago. A friend recommended him to help me design my restaurant. After we wrapped up the project, he asked me to help cater the new store opening.”

  “Oh, now it’s ringing a bell. Garrett doesn’t get into too much of the nitty-gritty about his clients but did mention he was working with an up and coming chef. He was proud because it was his first commercial property to design.” We polish off another bottle of wine, which is when I must have passed out because the next thing I remember is waking up at six o’clock in my clothes. I shouldn’t be surprised. I was so tired, jet lagged and drunk. I hope I didn’t embarrass myself or say anything I’ll regret. I call Garrett.

  He answers, “What’s up, lush?”

  “Please tell me I didn’t say anything stupid?” I yelp.

  “No, you’re fine. Finn called me around two and said he put you to bed. Said you guys had a few bottles of wine and you needed to sleep it off. He offered to come back later to check on you, but I said you were fine.”

  “Phew, okay, see you in the morning,” I say, relieved. I get up and finally take a long, hot shower, turn on the Lifetime channel, and zone out for the next several hours. Tomorrow is a new day.

  #

  The next few days leading up the grand opening are a blur as we scramble to get things ready, and now it’s here. I start my day with a hike in the foothills near Garrett’s house. It feels great to clear my head. It still hasn’t sunk in that I quit my job. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’m sick of working for the Man, Corporate America. Companies full of egos, agendas, and incompetence. I either need to invent something or marry a sugar daddy because otherwise I’m afraid I’ll end up living in a van down by the Kankakee River. A stay-at-home mom sounds like a dream job at this point, but I know it’s not that simple. Everything has its challenges; grass is always greener. Today, I will concentrate on getting Garrett’s store opened and my endless thoughts of Finn McDaniels and our random, chance encounter. He is so sexy. He is a god in the kitchen, and his accent is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Plus, he is so easy to talk to. I can’t wait to see him again tonight in his element.

  #

  Garrett bought me an outfit a few days ago: a sleeveless cocktail dress with a white embroidered bodice, and a romantic, black, lace draped skirt with a red patent-leather skinny belt. He also got me the cutest red patent-leather sling back heels, and a chunky black bracelet to complete the look. I shower and put my hair up and apply soft makeup, but a little bit of a smoky eye to last throughout the night. There is so much nervous excitement running through my veins. Garrett and Tristan went over early, and I arrive at five-thirty to check on the final touches. Guests will begin to arrive at seven. The space is amazing. It’s an old furniture outlet with ten thousand square feet. Garrett sectioned off the space into six distinct areas: kitchen, bath, bedroom, living room, lighting, and accessories. Each area has its own theme and colors with a focal point to draw you in. My personal favorite is the accessory room. The wa
lls are painted a tuxedo gray with black and white checkered flooring. Hanging from the ceiling are beautiful chandeliers in various sizes and crystal detailing. A buck head mounted on the opposite wall combines soft and delicate materials with rugged edges. Garrett’s signature style. Antique trophies don shelves throughout the room, giving it that Ralph Lauren feel. There is a large bed in the center of the room, highlighting Garrett’s beautiful bedding collection. So much to see but not overcrowded. He has such a knack for drawing you in and surprising you. Across from the checkout area is a counter for custom orders, including fabrics, bedding, specialty furniture, and art work.

  Finn arrives looking handsome. He has a team of four with him. His partner Jimmy stayed behind to run the restaurant. My stomach is in knots, embarrassed that he had to tuck me into bed the last time he saw me. Maybe he would better understand if he knew the circumstances of what he walked into. Me blowing up my entire life less than twenty-four hours before he saw me. Even so, I didn’t leave him with the best first impression but figure denial might be the best approach as I try to act casual, walking into the back to check-in.

  “Hi, Finn.”

  “Aye, Olivia.” He stares. “You look smashing.”

  “Thank you.” I respond.

  “Are you ready for the big night?” he questions.

  “I was going to ask you the same question. Anything I can help with?”

  “No, I think we’re all set but thanks. How is Garrett holding up?”

  “He’s been so busy I don’t even think it’s hit him yet that it’s happening in a little over an hour, but he’s an old pro at this. I envy that about him.”

  “Aye, I’m sure it will be brilliant. I’ll pop out when things get going to say hello.”

  “Great, please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  I can feel his eyes linger as I saunter out of the room.