by Terri Osburn
“That sounds like a dream.”
Did she miss the no sleep part?
“You’re nuts if you think that sounds like a dream. I lost twenty pounds, my hair thinned, and I had zero social life.” He pulled her back into the crook of his arm. “When Mia came to me about moving down here to take care of Nota—already armed with the offer to run Dempsey’s kitchen—I couldn’t pack fast enough.”
“You left all of that for here?” she whispered.
“I left all of that for Nota,” Nick corrected. “The island took some getting used to, but once you take a few deep breaths and realize life can move at a normal pace, you adjust.”
“I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to it.” She leaned closer and slid a leg over his. “My whole life has been a constant hustle. Roxie told me I need to relax, but how do you do that?”
To this he had an answer. “When I first got here, I had the same thought. People would be headed somewhere, and then stop to talk to every person they passed as if they had all the time in the world. But you know what I figured out?”
“What?”
“They do.”
She looked up at him. “They do what?”
“Have all the time in the world.”
“No one has all the time in the world,” she argued.
“They do if they have their priorities straight.”
Lauren was not giving up. “If something is a priority, then you bust your ass to get it done. Acting like you have nothing to do is the complete opposite of that.”
“Taking your time doesn’t mean acting like you have nothing to do. It means knowing that the world is not going to stop spinning because you take an hour to do something comfortably instead of killing yourself to get it done in half the time.” She opened her mouth to argue, and Nick cut her off. “Take cooking for example. You can wish a pork loin would cook in five minutes, but that doesn’t change how long it actually takes. And if you try to rush it, you end up with a dish you can’t serve, making all of that effort for nothing.”
When she didn’t immediately respond, he thought he’d won the point. He should have known better.
“If you want something to cook faster, you turn up the heat. Everyone knows that.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Have I told you how adorably annoying you are?”
That earned him a poke in the ribs. “I am not annoying.”
“Yes, you are.” Nick kissed the top of her head. “So how about you? Where did you pay your dues?”
Lauren tensed against him. “Lots of places.”
Considering she was thirty-one and went to culinary school, she’d only been working for eight to ten years depending on when she went in. Even adding the experience gained before going to school, he couldn’t imagine the word lots applied.
“How many are we talking about? Three? Four?” Her response was mumbled and Nick failed to make out the words. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Nine,” she said louder.
That couldn’t be true. “No way. I’m five years older than you and I’ve only worked at six.”
Rolling onto her back, she tucked the sheet beneath her elbows and crossed her arms, her eyes locked on the ceiling. “I started when I was seventeen and went through three jobs before going to school right after I turned twenty. I graduated at twenty-three,” she continued in a flat tone. “Then I worked at six different places in the last seven and a half years.”
Nick had never known anyone who changed jobs that often. Knowing there had to be a reason, he turned to face her and asked, “Why so many?”
Jaw tight and lips pinched into a line, she continued to stare at the ceiling. Every thought crossed her face and he could see that she didn’t want to answer.
“Lauren.” With a slow blink, she met his gaze. “Why so many?”
Returning her focus to the ceiling fan, she sighed. “I’m sure you’ll find this shocking, but I’m not a people person.”
Most chefs weren’t. That’s why they chose the kitchen instead of being out on the floor.
“Anyone who picks this profession could say the same.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Nick, people don’t like me.”
“I like you.”
“You like having sex with me. Not the same thing.”
Turning her to face him, he said, “I like being with you. Period. Sleeping with you is a bonus.”
Her blue eyes went wide. “That sounds dangerously close to a relationship. We don’t do relationships, remember?”
Taking a risk, Nick trailed a thumb along her cheek. “What if that’s changed?”
Body stiff, she looked away. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
Relieved that she hadn’t run for the exit, he said, “Take your time.” Leaning forward, he kissed her pursed lips. “I’m willing to wait.”
Lauren lay awake long after Nick had drifted off to sleep.
I’m willing to wait.
What was she supposed to do with a statement like that? Lauren wasn’t deaf to the gossip. Nick had a reputation for being a playboy, and he’d apparently been loud and proud about his policy to never settle down. Though most women would find that a character flaw, she’d seen it as an insurance policy that he’d never expect more from her.
Now the jerk had gone and changed the game?
Exactly what was he willing to wait for? For Lauren to suddenly become someone she wasn’t? For her to ignore everything she knew about men and relationships and how they were both a losing proposition? Having a front row seat to her mother’s string of bad breakups—which often came with black eyes and always an empty bank account—had taught Lauren to never let anyone have control of her life.
Glancing to her left, she tried to picture Nick as any of the men her mother had dated. One by one, she ticked off the common traits. Selfish. Lazy. Possessive. Irresponsible. The man beside her was none of those things. If anything, he’d proved to be the opposite in every way. He’d shared his knowledge while giving her a place to vent and a shoulder to lean on. He’d seen her at her worst and never flinched. If anything, Nick was too good for Lauren, not the other way around.
No. This was all an illusion. They’d only known each other for a few weeks. Given time, history would repeat. He’d get tired of her neurosis and find someone else. Or she’d work too much and he’d get bored. No matter the reason, they’d end up hating each other and then be stuck on this puny island, unable to avoid crossing paths.
At least if she drew the line now, they might be able to stay friends.
Decision made, Lauren slid from the bed as slowly as she could and gathered her clothes that had been scattered around the room before tip-toeing out of the room. Minutes later, she slipped out the front door, careful not to make a sound. The light of the moon guided her home, and as she crawled into her own bed, she expected to feel relief. As if she’d caught herself before doing something incredibly stupid.
But relief didn’t come. And neither did sleep. Because the truth was, she’d already done the stupidest thing of all.
She’d fallen in love with Nick Stamatis.
16
“Where are the plates?” Lauren yelled.
“In the warmer, Chef,” Jackson replied.
“Who put them in there?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.
“You did, Chef.”
Lauren took a deep breath. Now was not the time to start tormenting her staff. When she’d broken the news about the pre-launch dinner the previous morning, no one had batted an eye. A reminder that she had a seasoned team used to serving far more than a dozen plus and a few kids. They’d worked throughout the day perfecting each dish and continued prepping through early evening, after which Lauren had locked the doors, feeling good about their progress.
She’d received one text from Nick, which she’d ignored, and then she’d spent the evening praying he wouldn’t show up at her door. When he didn’t, she brushed off the disappointment, remi
nding herself that this was for the best. Nick clearly wanted something Lauren did not. He couldn’t blame her when the rules had been clear from the beginning.
Besides, the restaurant needed all of her attention right now.
There had been a slight hiccup first thing this morning when Will had called to increase the number for the dinner from fourteen to sixteen adults. Thankfully, the number of children had remained the same. Axel had taken the message and not bothered to ask who the new additions would be. Lauren assumed Will had invited potential wedding clients so they could taste her food, since Pilar’s would be doing the catering for most Destination Anchor events.
“Hello!” someone called from the dining room, and Lauren recognized her boss’ voice. “Can we do anything to help?”
Stepping into the pass, Lauren greeted Will and Randy Navarro with a wave. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to how big Randy was. At least six foot five, the man could easily be mistaken for a professional wrestler if it weren’t for the ever-present smile on his handsome face. On more than one occasion she’d seen him at the fitness center, which he owned, of course, lifting upwards of three hundred pounds.
“Do you need us to move tables or anything?” Randy asked.
They’d brought in four members of the waitstaff for the evening, and Lauren had worked with them to make the necessary table adjustments. “Already done.” She called to the break room in the back, “Carla, our first guests have arrived.”
Carla Fennell, a woman in her mid-fifties who had been the lead hostess at the Marina for more than ten years, shuffled into view. “I’m on it.”
Lauren checked the clock on the wall. If the other diners arrived at the designated time, they had another ten minutes before the meal officially began. Because the point was to get feedback on the entire menu, they’d decided to send the dishes out family style starting with the appetizers. They wouldn’t get to practice individual plating, but this night was about taste more than presentation.
The rest of the waitstaff headed for the dining room in their black pants, pressed turquoise shirts—the official color of Pilar’s—and pristine new aprons. Only one was new and Lauren had faith that the more experienced servers would keep an eye on him. When she turned to survey the kitchen, Lauren couldn’t suppress a smile. Jackson, Mona, Deborah, Dodge, Brit, Penny, and Axel were at their stations, fully focused and ready to go.
She had never been prouder or more nervous in her life.
For a split second, Lauren wished Nick was there to calm her nerves. A clear sign that putting distance between them was the right thing to do. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head. Never depend on anyone but yourself. Words Lauren had lived by for as long as she could remember, and she’d done just fine so far.
But have you?
Shaking the disloyal thought away, Lauren took a final pass around the kitchen and heard more voices in the dining room. Curious, she peeked through the pass and watched as some of the children she’d met at Opal’s were wrestled into high chairs. Since her previous encounters had been with the women in the group, none of the husbands looked familiar. Except for Roxie’s boyfriend, Alex Fielding. And she’d seen the one sitting closest to Beth working out with Randy at the fitness center.
Will caught her attention. “Lauren, come out so I can introduce you to everyone.”
The moment of truth had arrived. She turned, took a deep breath, and got a thumbs-up from Jackson.
“You’ve got this, Chef.”
She appreciated the show of support. Shoulders back, Lauren made her way to the dining room and crossed to the gathered diners.
“Everyone, have a seat so I can introduce our star chef who is about to feed us what I’m sure will be an amazing meal.”
Will waited for the crowd to settle and Lauren noticed three empty seats at the end of the table. She started to count those present, but the introductions began before she reached half a dozen.
“First we have Tom and Patsy Dempsey. They own Dempsey’s Bar & Grill and are Joe and Lucas’ parents.”
Lauren’s stomach dropped to her knees. Why hadn’t anyone told her the owners of the most successful eatery on the island would be here?
“That’s Gram and Poppy,” Mary Ann corrected.
“Only to us,” Pilar informed her.
The group laughed as the mothers instructed their offspring to hush.
“Beside them we have Joe and Beth and their daughters Mary Ann and Daphne, you know Roxie and Alex, then there’s Sid and Lucas with Pilar.”
“This is my restant,” the child announced.
“Yes, it is, sweetie,” Randy assured her.
“On this side we have Sam and Callie Edwards with their son Connor,” Will continued, “and Henri, of course.”
As she got to the empty chairs, the restaurant door swung open and Lauren looked over to see Mia walk through, followed by Nota and Nick. They must have been the two added to the group.
Her body stiffened as they approached and she struggled to keep her expression neutral. Nick smiled when their eyes met, and Lauren looked away.
“Thank you, all, for coming tonight,” she said, not waiting for Will to introduce the newcomers. “We have a full tasting prepared so you’ll get to try all of the options. Feedback is welcome and appreciated, good or bad, but we’ve done our best to make everything as tasty as possible so hopefully you’ll be more than satisfied.” Gesturing toward the waitstaff, she said, “Carla and her team will get your drink orders, and the appetizers will start coming out shortly. Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy the meal.”
Without another word, she spun and marched toward the kitchen, encountering Nick and Nota on the way.
“Lauren,” he said as she passed.
“Not now, Nick, I’m busy.”
Gut churning, she swept through the kitchen door, stopping on the other side to catch her breath. Her heart had attempted to beat out of her chest the moment he’d looked at her, and she’d nearly embarrassed herself by running into his arms.
He couldn’t possibly mean so much to her considering how little they knew each other. She’d been on the island for less than six weeks. No one fell in love that fast. This was nothing more than her being dropped into a new place with no connections and Nick being the one person with whom she shared something in common.
He was a chef. He understood what she was going through opening her first restaurant. So they’d slept together. So what. Lauren had done the no-strings sex plenty of times in the past and never crossed the line. She never let her heart get involved, and she would not be stupid enough to make that mistake now.
“Chef?” She looked up to find Jackson watching her with concern in his big brown eyes. “You okay?”
Lauren stepped away from the door and rolled up her sleeves. “I’m fine. Are we ready?”
“The oysters are plated and the glazed scallops will be up in four minutes.”
Putting Nick out of her mind, she took her position at the pass. “All right, guys. Let’s do this.”
Nick didn’t need a sign to tell him that he’d screwed up. They’d had an arrangement with established boundaries that he’d stomped right over.
Lauren clearly hadn’t known that he’d be there. He hadn’t even known himself until two hours ago. Nota had apparently run into Will at the coffee shop and landed an invitation. Why she and Mia needed him to tag along he didn’t know, but they’d insisted and here he was.
Lauren had every right to put the brakes on, and he didn’t blame her for backing off. But he also didn’t appreciate her giving him the silent treatment. If she wanted to end things entirely, the least she could do was have the guts to tell him so.
When he and Nota reached the table, Mia nearly jerked his arm out of the socket as she maneuvered him out of the way to avoid having to sit next to Henri. He’d been half tempted to yank her back and leave her no option, but one woman pissed at him was enough for now. Henri had given him a knowing l
ook with a mixture of humor and disappointment in her eyes. Nick had no idea what, if anything, was going on between her and his sister, but he hoped Mia wasn’t stringing the poor woman along.
Then the truth dawned. Mia dragged him here to run interference. Whether to keep Henri at a distance or to keep Nota in the dark was the question, but whatever the purpose, he didn’t appreciate being used.
The appetizers arrived on large platters, one for each end of the table, and were served with about five minutes in between. He did his best to catch reactions from around the table and as far as Nick could tell, the food was a hit from the start. Personally, he’d have added more orange maple sauce to the wings and left the apple cider gastrique off the glazed scallops, but those were personal taste issues and not substantial criticisms.
The meal progressed with a collection of noodle dishes. Pilar’s offered an interesting twist on shrimp and grits—unusual coming from a New England chef—and the crab mac & cheese was a favorite around the table. A clam dish plus two vegetarian options followed, and Nick noticed the servings getting smaller. Smart, considering they had yet to reach the entree round.
Empty plates were constantly being cleared as new dishes arrived. Once they’d reached the end of the appetizers, Lauren returned from the kitchen. She looked professional, capable, and determined not to look his way.
“I hope you’re enjoying the meal so far,” she said, and received murmured affirmations from around the table. “I wanted to tell you a little about our entrees, which are coming up next. We have Pilar’s special catch of the day, which tonight is mahi tuna caught just this morning. We also have non-seafood items including grilled rosemary chicken, a pistachio crusted pork loin, and a New York strip steak. The steak will be served medium so a bit pink inside, but if you’d like it cooked a little more, let a server know and we can do that for you. There’s no hurry so take your time finishing up what’s already on the table and the entrees will be on their way soon.”