Love Bites

by Campbell, Jamie

  All I wanted was one good Valentine’s Day.

  Chapter 2

  Valentine’s Day sucked.

  It was all a conspiracy thought up by the greeting card companies and florists to take our money and line their bank accounts.

  Valentine’s Day was for idiots.

  I was not going to play into their trap ever again. I was smarter than that, I could see through the hype and into what it really was. There was no way I was only going to make the rich even richer.

  Which is exactly why I had volunteered for the waitressing night shift. I might have to serve happy couples all night at the restaurant but they wouldn’t be getting any of my money. I was the smart one, I was the one getting paid.

  Most of the couples would be broken up before next Valentine’s Day anyway.

  Love never lasted.

  The loved up couples filed through the entrance of the Italian restaurant the moment our doors opened. They all looked the same – holding hands, looking deep into each other’s eyes, giggling about shared secrets.

  They made me sick.

  I dutifully took orders and tried desperately not to roll my eyes when the makeup-caked women laughed at the men’s stupid jokes. My lip was getting sore from biting back the snarky comments.

  “This was supposed to have no garlic,” I said, placing the latest rejected dish on the serving counter. Garlic was a sin on fucking night, er, Valentine’s Day.

  “Hey, Alice,” Antonio said through the window, waving to get my attention. “I need you to taste something for me.”

  Antonio was one of the four chefs in the kitchen, the only authentic Italian amongst them. He was tall, dark, and handsome with a lilt to his words that gave away his heritage.

  We’d worked together for over six months, and so far, I didn’t want to thrust a knife in his eye. Unlike all the other males in my vicinity.

  “I’m busy,” I called back. I grabbed another dish and bustled it out to the table, flashing my biggest friendly smile for the tip. “Enjoy your meal. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  The smile fell from my face the moment I turned away. Antonio was waving at me again when I made the mistake of looking his way. I needed to wait for some more meals so I slipped inside the kitchen.

  He was stirring a large pot of creamy sauce. The smell was making my taste buds water. “Shouldn’t you have been cooking this earlier?” I asked.

  “Nah. Quality takes time, you can’t rush it.” Antonio also owned the restaurant, did I mention that? He could toil away on some secret sauce all night and nobody would fire him. “Here, try it and tell me everything you can taste.”

  He dipped a large spoon into the concoction before pressing it to my lips. He spooned the sauce into my mouth, watching my reaction intently.

  Antonio’s food was normally delicious. He wasn’t a chef and didn’t own a restaurant for nothing. Food was his skill and he excelled at it.

  But this sauce?

  It was something else entirely. It was so good I felt like I could picture the mushrooms growing in the ancient forests of Italy. Like magical pixies danced through them, showering them with scrumptious flavors.

  My eyes closed and I moaned with happiness before I managed to compose myself. I wanted to bathe in the sauce, marry it, and then have its babies.

  “Well? Mia bella, what do you think?” he asked, his brow wrinkled with concern over the verdict. “Please put me out of my misery. Do you like it?”

  I wiped my mouth. “Not bad.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve done better.”

  A sly smirk spread across his lips, seeing straight through my bullshit. “Why are you so mean? You shoot me through the heart with every flippant remark. I should fire you.”

  “You should try harder,” I shot back. “Someone needs to make sure you don’t get carried away in here.”

  “Getting carried away is half the fun.” Antonio winked and added more pepper to the sauce. I almost begged him not to touch it in case he ruined it. “Try to enjoy the magical night, Ally. Tonight is a night for love.”

  This time I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling. “Sure. Whatever you say, boss.” I shook my head and got back to work. Love was for losers. I didn’t need any of that shit in my life anymore.

  It was one of our busiest nights of the year so the hours flew by quickly. The number of dishes and customers somehow managed to keep my mind off the last Valentine’s Day.

  That was, until Ricky walked in.

  I caught a glimpse of him as he entered the restaurant, a redhead on his arm. Quickly ducking behind a partition covered in plastic ivy, I hoped he didn’t see me.

  Out of all the restaurants in town, why on earth did he have to walk into mine? God was playing tricks on me and it was seriously starting to piss me off. Hadn’t I suffered enough?

  I hadn’t seen Ricky since one year ago today and that was exactly how I liked it. I’d heard through the grapevine that he had broken up with his whore (unsurprisingly) and moved across town.

  It seemed the blonde had been replaced with a red. I hoped he burned in hell.

  I’d invested two years into that guy and he’d cheated on me for most of the duration. The blonde whore that had shown up at my door wasn’t the first of his exploits, apparently. I’d been shattered the more I’d unraveled. It was a loose thread I should have left alone.

  “Please don’t sit in my section. Please don’t sit in my section,” I whispered my mantra, watching the maître d’ like my life depended on it.

  It hadn’t even occurred to me to check the reservations book. I never imagined my ex would waltz in with his new tramp. I mean, seriously, what were the odds? I wondered if he was cheating on her, too?

  Probably.

  The hostess led them to a table and gave them menus. They were sitting in my section. Great. Just what I needed. Why not rub some salt into those wounds and re-open them?

  I had two options: I could beg another of the waiters to swap with me and cover the table. Or I could put my big girl panties on and just get over it. Did I want to hide from Ricky and let him know how much he still affected me? No. But did I want to talk to him? Hell, no.

  Unfortunately, the decision was made for me while I was still dithering. Ricky caught sight of me hiding and waved like we were best friends. There was no avoiding him now.

  Chapter 3

  “What can I get you?” I asked, like I would any other customer.

  Ricky stared at his menu. He was probably trying to decide between two main dishes, trying to have his cake and eat it too. He preferred not sticking with just one.

  The redhead beamed at me over the menu, completely oblivious to how much I hated her right now. “Can I please have the salmon?”

  “Sure,” I replied, considering putting down steak just to cause more awkwardness. “And you, sir?”

  “Sir? Come on, Alice, you don’t need to be so formal,” Ricky said. His tongue ran over his lower lip, I used to find that cute. Now it was annoying. Go figure.

  “You two know each other?” Redhead interjected, sounding genuinely curious.

  It was a tossup between protecting my future tip versus my actual emotions. I forgot about the tip. “Ricky and I dated for two years before he started fucking another girl without telling me.”

  Her optimistic expression dropped. Clearly it wasn’t the cute tale she had expected. Ricky stepped in before it got any uglier. “I’m sure we don’t need to rehash ancient history. I’ll have the pasta special.” He closed his menu and held it out for me. Redhead’s knuckles were going white while she gripped hers.

  I wrangled the menu from her and took them both, snatching Ricky’s. “Any drinks?”

  “A bottle of the house red,” Ricky said quickly.

  I flashed them both an innocent smile before turning tail and heading toward the kitchen. Only a little bit of guilt crept in about potentially ruining that poor girl’s night. It wasn’t her fault her boyfriend was a douche.
/>   If Ricky thought he was going to get good service tonight, he was seriously mistaken. I skirted his table and ignored him for most of his meal. Every time I did covertly glimpse his way (because I like to torture myself, apparently) he didn’t look too happy.

  Yeah, I was a bitch. But I had good reason to be. It was a special kind of torture serving your cheating ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend on Valentine’s Day.

  “Who’s that?” Antonio asked, sidling up beside me while I lingered near the kitchen, waiting for an order.

  “Nobody,” I lied.

  Antonio shrugged. “Must be someone for you to be frowning like that. Do you know them?”

  I should have lied but Antonio didn’t deserve deceit. He was too sweet and kind. “I used to date that guy.”

  “Ah. An ex. Were you together long?”

  “Two years.”

  “And it ended badly?”

  I let out a laugh. “How can you tell?”

  “Well, let’s just say if looks could kill I’m pretty sure I would need to be calling an ambulance right now. It wouldn’t look good in the newspapers tomorrow.”

  “He cheated on me,” I conceded. “But not with that girl, she’s new.”

  We stood in silence for a few more moments. I really wished Ricky’s presence didn’t upset me as much as it did. I wanted to be over him and the whole ordeal. But seeing him again made all the memories of our relationship come flooding back to me.

  It hadn’t all been bad. When we’d managed to spend time together it was nice. Ricky was funny and he could be very charming when he wanted to be. Our jobs had kept us too busy, our lives had been ruled by making ends meet, and we’d started living separate lives.

  Maybe we’d both been too busy to see the warning signs. I dealt with it by burying my head in the sand; Ricky dealt with it by getting a new fuck-buddy.

  He should never have cheated on me, but perhaps the tragic end to our relationship wasn’t entirely his fault. It was the first time I’d allowed myself to think that deeply about what happened and it was startling.

  “Have I ever told you the story of how my grandparents met?” Antonio said out of the blue. Talk about a random change of topic.

  “No, I don’t think I’ve heard that story.”

  “They were fifteen years old, living in a tiny fishing village in Italy. They went to school every day, my grandfather went fishing in the afternoon and my grandmother helped her mother in the kitchen.

  “One day a huge storm rolled through the village. My grandfather was fishing and was caught off guard. He was washed off the rocks and thrown into the ocean. He thought his life might be cut short as he fought to stay afloat.”

  Antonio paused, I think for dramatic effect. I could imagine a younger version of him, struggling to stay alive in the Mediterranean ocean.

  He continued. “My grandmother was hurrying home and saw something bobbing in the water. She raised the alarm and rushed into the ocean to save him herself when they took too long.

  “She singlehandedly pulled him from the ocean and saved his life. They’d never spoken a word to each other before that day.”

  “Let me guess, it was love at first sight?” I asked.

  “No, not at all.” Antonio laughed. “My grandmother said she could never love anyone who was stupid enough to go fishing in a storm.”

  Not what I was expecting. “So how did they end up together? They obviously did or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “My grandfather said that when you find a good woman, you never let her go. He made it impossible for her to say no to him. Every day for three years he hand-delivered a bunch of flowers to her and asked if she would agree to go out with him. Eventually she said yes.”

  “And the rest is history,” I finished for him.

  “Indeed,” Antonio agreed. “When you find that good woman, you should never let her go.”

  Ricky had let me go. He didn’t even try to fight for our relationship. Why the hell was I giving him any space in my brain when he hadn’t cared at all to even stay and fight for me?

  He was Redhead’s problem now. I should be happy for the fact I didn’t have to deal with him. In fact, I should be feeling sorry for her.

  But still, it was difficult to watch.

  “Hey, cheer up,” Antonio said, interrupting my thoughts. “If he didn’t realize what he had, he’s a fool. You are far better than that.”

  “Maybe I deserved it.”

  “No. Trust me, Ally, if he didn’t know what a beautiful, smart, witty woman he had, then you are better off without him.” He patted me on the shoulder before heading back toward the kitchen.

  He left me speechless. Beautiful, smart, and witty? Nobody had ever called me that before. Mouthy, stubborn, and impatient, maybe.

  My lips quirked into a smile before I realized just how happy those words made me.

  Chapter 4

  When I gave Ricky his check, I was relieved to be getting rid of him. If he didn’t tip well, then I was going to hunt him down and set his car on fire.

  The restaurant suddenly burst into applause and cheers. I looked up from the table I was clearing to see what all the commotion was about.

  A man was on one knee, placing an engagement ring on his new fiancée’s finger. She was crying and holding her right hand over her heart like she couldn’t believe what was happening.

  The guy jumped up and embraced her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. How romantic.

  God, I really was bitter.

  Antonio emerged from the kitchen, holding up a bottle of wine. “A gift for the happy couple, compliments of the house. Congratulations. May your lives be long and happy together.”

  He shook hands with the groom-to-be before placing a kiss on both of the bride-to-be’s cheeks. They accepted the wine happily and resumed their dessert. The woman couldn’t keep her eyes off the big diamond. I could see that thing sparkle from across the room.

  Maybe she was with him for the money.

  That had to be it.

  Antonio gave me a wink before he disappeared back into the kitchen. He had been exceptionally happy all night, giddy with the thought of so much love in the air. Sucker.

  I got back to work and cleared Ricky’s table – he’d left me a twenty percent tip. At least he was good for something.

  We closed the restaurant at eleven o’clock. Any later and we would have been breaking council trading codes for the district. We started going through the closing procedures which occupied my mind for a little longer.

  I was folding napkins for the next day when I noticed Antonio leaning against the kitchen doorframe. His arms were crossed over his chest as he frowned at me.

  “What?” I asked, checking to make sure I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

  “I’m worried about my sauce,” he replied.

  I laughed. Trust him to still be fretting about his sauce hours after my comment. “Your sauce was delicious and you know it. Get over it.”

  “I’m thinking of changing the menu.”

  “Because of bad sauce?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “No. I’ve been experimenting with new dishes. Come, come, I want you to try something for me.”

  The last of the waitresses left and we were alone. I guess I could afford to get home late. Only one more hour and the dreaded day would be over. I could survive for that long.

  “Fine,” I sighed and trailed after him.

  Antonio wasn’t joking when he said he was thinking about changing the menu. He had clearly been working on the new meals for a while.

  When I entered the kitchen he had a full three-course meal spread out. Tantalizing aromas wafted from the steaming dishes. All we needed were candles and the setting would be complete.

  He pulled out a handful of candles from the cupboard and disbursed them along the bench. Of course he’d have candles, nothing he ever did was less than perfect. “We can’t have a tasting without mood lighting. We need to put ourselves in the cust
omers’ place.”

  I slid onto the stool and tried not to drool over the food. “This all looks good. I don’t really think you need a taste testing before you change the menu.”

  “I’d still like your opinion.”

  He served up the entree – spaghetti alla puttanesca. “Eat slowly and give me your honest opinion.”

  I took a small mouthful and tried to keep some semblance of my game face. Unfortunately the taste sensation in my mouth gave me away. “This is fantastic. What’s the spice?”

  “It’s Thyme. But don’t tell anyone, it’s my secret.”

  “It’s good. Like, really good.”

  Antonio seemed to take delight with my reaction. Satisfied I was happy, he ate his own entree. He continued to study me, searching for any sign of my displeasure.

  He wouldn’t find any. “So… that story you told me earlier about your grandparents, was it really true?”

  “It was. Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “It’s sweet. They were only fifteen. Your grandmother saved your grandfather’s life. That’s pretty incredible.”

  Antonio switched my plate with the main meal – cacciucco. It looked even better than the entree. Thank goodness I hadn’t had a chance to eat all night. I wanted to enjoy every mouthful of the food.

  “In their village,” he began, “they believe that people are cast from the one soul and then split into two. When you find the other half of your soul, your heart knows. Destiny will then go to great lengths to make sure the two parts of a soul are reunited.”

  “So destiny brought them together?”

  Antonio nodded. “If it wasn’t the storm, then they would have been brought together by something else.”

  “But your grandmother wasn’t having any of it,” I pointed out. Three years of taking her flowers was a long time to keep getting turned down.

  “Some souls take a bit more time,” Antonio laughed. “But everything happens exactly as it must.”

  I picked at the food, pushing it around the plate while I let the story settle. It was nice thinking of soul mates and love that was easy, but life wasn’t like that. Sometimes people were just dogs.