“I thought you said the event would be happening on the roof?”
“I did say that. Under and Lock & Key will be part of it, too. Sort of.” Heat flashed over Malcolm’s cheeks when Stuart rolled his eyes. “Sorry, let’s…” He blew out a breath and squared his shoulders. “Let’s start again.”
Stuart’s expression softened by a degree. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“There are three areas in this building suitable for hosting events. This floor, Lock & Key, has the only functioning kitchen. So your staff will prep the food in Lock & Key’s kitchen.” Malcolm frowned at Stuart’s scoff.
“I hope the kitchen’s more impressive than what I’ve seen so far.”
“I… It’s always seemed adequate to me. I’m not a cook, though,” Malcom hastened to add when Stuart’s right eyebrow rose. “If you have concerns, we can look into how to address them.” He licked his lips. “Under, the speakeasy, is located in the basement and will provide beverage service for the event.”
Stuart nodded. “And the new venue you mentioned last week is on the roof?”
“Yes. There’s a service elevator, so getting things up and down between levels shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’ll be the judge of that if you don’t mind,” Stuart muttered. “Though I suppose there’s something to be said for the building only being three levels total.” He furrowed his brow. “What’s the roof deck called?”
“The Over Under.” Malcolm tried to smile. “It hasn’t officially opened for business yet. It’s set to happen on Memorial Day weekend.”
“Under, Lock & Key and The Over Under, huh? Precious.” Stuart rolled his eyes again. This time the corners of his lips tugged upward.
“My friends like puns.”
“Sounds like they’re not concerned about accuracy, considering The Over Under is, in fact, over Lock & Key. Not my problem, though.”
Stuart drew a noisy inhale through his nose then stood, moving quickly enough Malcolm couldn’t quite get out of his way. Something about him creaked as he moved and Malcolm had a second to notice that the man was wearing leather pants too, before Stuart’s shoulder made contact with his chest. Malcolm’s face went up in flames once more.
“Sorry. I’ll, um, grab Matt from the back and we can head down.” Malcolm nearly jumped when a familiar voice spoke from behind Stuart.
“I’m right here, kid.”
Jesus, Malcolm hadn’t seen Matt coming at all. His stomach fell when he noticed Matt looked cranky as hell, no doubt because he’d heard Stuart’s dismissive remarks about Lock & Key, an ordinary pub to be sure, but the residents of Morningside Heights liked it just fine. The place had even undergone a makeover earlier in the year and Malcolm thought the new butcher block tables and white metal seating looked nice, especially on the sidewalk patio area outside.
“Hey, Matt.” Malcolm kept his tone light. “Chef Morgan, this is Matt O’Hearn, General Manager of Lock & Key.”
Stuart extended his hand even before Malcolm had finished speaking. “Stuart Morgan,” he said. “I cook under Marisol King at her restaurant in Tribeca.”
“Malcolm and Kyle briefed me last week.” Matt shook Stuart’s hand. His expression remained tight and he jerked his head toward the back of the bar without offering any other pleasantries. “Let’s go see the man downstairs before the dinner rush starts.”
To an outsider, the next ninety minutes would have appeared to have gone smoothly, with all three arms of food and service for the CEC event team getting to know each other. Stuart was clearly charmed by Under and its hidden door and staircase, and he responded at once to Kyle McKee.
Kyle took obvious pleasure in introducing Stuart not only to the speakeasy but his philosophy of serving the highest quality craft cocktails possible, and the two men fell into easy conversation about sourcing local ingredients. In many ways, Kyle’s dedication to his craft reminded Malcolm of Stuart’s passion for his work in the kitchen, and while cookery and mixology were wholly different art forms, Malcolm recognized a connection forming between bartender and chef.
The same could not be said of Stuart and Matt, however, who continued to eye each other warily. Malcolm suspected Stuart harbored some regret for his earlier harshness, because he was both polite and professional during the kitchen tour. He deemed it more than adequate to serve the needs of King’s staff. While Matt answered every inquiry without hesitation, his stony demeanor didn’t crack.
Malcolm swallowed a sigh. He really hoped everyone was getting the information they needed. The fewer awkward sessions he needed to orchestrate between Stuart and Matt, the better.
“How will you manage serving your customers on the night of the event?” Stuart asked Matt as they approached the service elevator.
“We won’t.” Matt tapped the elevator’s up button, his gaze trained on its doors. “We’ll close after lunch and most of the kitchen staff will clear out so we’re not in your way.”
“Matt’ll be upstairs with me. I thought Lock & Key’s waitstaff could work the event, too,” Kyle said, then frowned. “Or do you bring your own servers, Chef?”
“That depends on the event,” Stuart replied. Everyone filed onto the elevator car and Kyle hit the button for the roof. “King’s provides waitstaff for catering events, but there’s often room for additional bodies. That said, everyone, including King’s staff, is required to attend a briefing beforehand so we can run through the menu and make sure everyone understands what they’re serving and to whom.”
“Of course,” Matt muttered.
The edge in his voice made Malcolm swallow and Stuart parted his lips as if to speak. Thankfully, the elevator’s chime cut him off and Malcolm stepped toward the doors.
“The Over Under,” he said with a gesture for Stuart to exit.
He watched Stuart run his gaze over the wide-open space. The sun had set, and the sky hung purple above, stars just beginning to peek through the twilight. Then someone hit the lights, filling the space with a beautiful, golden glow, and a faint smile crossed the chef’s face.
“This isn’t bad at all,” Stuart said, voice soft.
Malcolm agreed. The Over Under had been set up in the style of a French bistro with a black-and-white tiled floor and the vibe it carried was both elegant and welcoming. Wrought-iron chairs and striped cushions had been paired with glass-topped tables, with lamps fashioned like antique gaslight posts rising over them. A bar situated at the far end of the roof stood beneath a shelter open on three sides, with a gleaming bar top, ample seating and open, backlit shelves of bottles.
Malcolm glanced back for Kyle and Matt and saw them talking by the elevator, their expressions serious. No doubt Stuart having acted like a pompous ass was hot topic number one.
Crap again.
Malcolm hated that Matt was so obviously irritated. Stuart’s shift in behavior from cold to hot made Malcolm’s awareness prickle in ways he didn’t understand, too. The man seemed so much bigger than life. His questions and observations showed his confidence in how he wanted the event catering to play out, but he commanded Malcolm’s attention even when he fell silent. He’d stuck close throughout the tour, too, which heightened Malcolm’s nerves even more. On several occasions, the smell of black leather had filled Malcolm’s nose, and he’d nearly walked into a door when he’d noticed Stuart’s leather pants were in fact chaps with shiny silver zips running up the inside of each leg.
“I thought you said the place hadn’t opened yet?” Stuart asked, appreciation plain in his gaze.
“It hasn’t,” Malcolm replied.
“Certainly appears to be.”
Malcolm clasped his hands together. “Kyle, Matt and their partner, Jesse, have had a few parties up here for their friends. Trial runs that act like a soft launch with easy critics, if that makes sense. That gives them a chance to find and work out any kinks before they go public. They know none of us will hold mistakes against them. Not that they make many at this point.”
&nbs
p; “Smart. Based on its looks and Under’s reputation, this place should do well.” Stuart’s gaze landed on Malcolm. “So these guys are friends of yours, too? I thought you only knew them through Carter.”
“Long story short, I do know them through Carter, but yes, they’re my friends.” Malcolm stuffed his hands in his pockets as he and Stuart moved toward the bar. “I met Kyle and Jesse after Carter got to know them, back when we both worked at his family’s firm.”
“I had no idea you and Carter had known each other so long.” Stuart grimaced. “Shit, things at the office must have been awkward when he quit and came out of the closet all at the same time.”
Malcolm shifted in his seat. “You know about that, huh?”
“My boss reads the society columns. She also knew Riley from cooking class and went a little bit bananas over the news. She liked talking about the Porter-Wright and Hamilton dramas while we prepped for dinner.”
“Ah.” Malcolm nodded. A lot of people in Carter’s life had gone very bananas after he’d come out and quit, Malcolm included, though his upset had been at losing a great boss who’d started to become a friend. “It was a hectic time.”
Stuart chuckled. He set his helmet on the bar and slid onto one of the stools, the creak of his leather pants so loud Malcolm rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.
“I imagine it was a lot more than hectic, but you’re a good guy for not gossiping.” Stuart waved at Malcolm to join him. “I know Carter and Riley weren’t even dating at the time. Marisol told me that, too.”
“Your boss was right.” Kyle passed by them both on his way behind the bar, and the smile on his face didn’t warm his dark eyes. Kyle was nothing if not loyal and protective of his friends. “Carter was at loose ends for a while before he and Ri got together. We all took good care of him, though.” His gaze shifted to Malcolm and softened. “Hell, Malcolm left the ad business to keep a better eye on his old boss.”
“That is a lie.” Malcolm set his bag on the bar and sat beside Stuart. “I wanted out of advertising, yes, and the CEC had a position that worked for me, so I took it. I started hanging out with these guys more,” he said with a wave toward Kyle. “Kyle and Jes had opened Under earlier in the year and made a point of hosting get-togethers for friends and family, so I tagged along and they let me stay.”
Kyle aimed a droll look over the bar at Stuart. “He says this like it’s a chore enduring his presence. Like he’s not the easiest person in the world to get along with.”
“You’re confusing low-maintenance with easy,” Malcolm replied and laughed when Kyle reached over the bar and mimed strangling him. “Did Matt go back downstairs?”
“He did,” Kyle said. “Lock & Key’s starting to get busy and he figured you and I could handle any questions the chef here might have.”
Stuart drew his eyebrows together. “I have none. The kitchen looks adequate for my needs and if Under handles the beverage service—”
“We’ll more than handle it,” Kyle said, his lips curling into a smirk that made Malcolm bite back another laugh. People didn’t doubt that cockiness once Kyle set a cocktail down in front of them. “I’d like to curate a special menu for cocktails, so you and I should coordinate.”
“Sounds good.” Stuart met Kyle’s smirk with one of his own. “Something tells me you won’t have trouble keeping up.”
“How about I mix some drinks right now?” Kyle glanced from Stuart to Malcolm. “I took the liberty of stocking the bar with one of Mal’s favorite tequilas after he told me he’d be bringing you by. There are plenty of other things to choose from, however, if you’re not a tequila fan or staying sober.”
“Tequila’s fine,” Stuart said at the same time Malcolm asked if he’d be okay to drive.
“Not that you don’t know your own limits, of course,” Malcolm hastened to add. The irritation he expected from Stuart simply didn’t come.
“One or two won’t hurt me,” the chef said, “and today’s my day off so I have plenty of time to metabolize any alcohol I put in my system.”
“Great,” Kyle said, amusement clear in his expression. He set out three shiny silver cups and filled each with crushed ice. “There was a run on mint and blackberries at the market I hit on my way here, which work perfectly for the cocktail I’ve got in mind.”
“And what kind of magic are you mixing up?” Malcolm asked.
“Blackberry Mint Julep Margaritas,” Kyle replied. “That may sound strange, but tequila and citrus flavors mix well with mint and honey.”
He measured tequila into a shaker, then followed it with blackberries, mint leaves and fresh lime, and topped it all with a thin golden syrup. After muddling the contents of the shaker, he added more ice and capped it and rattled the mix with a flourish. Kyle was smiling as he poured the deep purple cocktail, and he winked at Malcolm before he set about garnishing each drink with fresh berries and mint sprigs.
Stuart let out a low whistle when Kyle set a julep cup in front of him. “These are beautiful. You weren’t kidding about paying attention to details.”
“You said earlier that you’ve never seen the point in doing a half-ass job,” Kyle replied. “I feel the same about my own work. And Malcolm looks like he had a bit of a day, too, so I hoped one of these might turn his frown upside-down.”
Malcolm chuckled and ran a finger through the frost on his cup. “Thanks, babe. I haven’t had reason to doubt your magic yet.” He raised it in tandem with Kyle and together they turned to include Stuart, who mimicked their movements with a smile.
“Here’s to magic and blackberries,” Stuart said, “and the end of a not-awesome Thursday.”
By eight, Malcolm and Stuart had moved back down to Under so Kyle could go on duty, and Malcolm was feeling the effects of the tequila on an empty stomach. Besides breakfast, he hadn’t eaten, and while part of him was tempted to order something cheap from the kitchen upstairs, he felt loathe to do so in Stuart’s company.
“I can see why you like hanging out with Kyle,” Stuart said. “He seems like a good guy. Doesn’t hurt that he’s hot, too, and has that Indiana Jones vibe with the scar on his chin.”
Malcolm’s whole body tensed. “Kyle and his boyfriend were gay bashed late last year,” he said. His flat tone and blunt words chased the humor from Stuart’s expression in an instant. “Kyle was beaten badly trying to pull three guys off Luka. That’s where the scar came from.”
“Shit. I’m fucking up all over the place tonight.” Stuart heaved a sigh. “Are they okay? Aside from the scar, I mean.”
Malcolm nodded, though he knew the movements were stiff and jerky. “They’re getting past it. Things were hard for them earlier this year. Kyle says he and Luka are in a better place now.”
“I’m glad. And I apologize,” Stuart said, voice low and earnest. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Or poke at your friend. Or screw things up with the guy from upstairs, either. I’m sure his pub is a nice enough place—”
Malcolm cut him off. “Lock & Key is a nice place. Not at the same level as King’s but the place is practically an institution in the neighborhood. Lock & Key is full for lunch and dinner every weekday and stuffed to the gills for brunch both Saturday and Sunday. They serve great food and affordable drinks, and some people need that option more than they need fine dining.”
“You’re right. I’m not incapable of enjoying pub or street food, or even fast food,” Stuart added. “I like it all. I was…in a mood earlier today and my attitude got away from me. My afternoon was shot and you were late, and I knew it was stupid to get angry, but I took it out on you and Matt. So again, I’m sorry.” He aimed a crooked grin at Malcolm. “Not apologizing for saying Kyle’s hot, though. Because he is.”
The mischief in his face melted Malcolm’s irritation. “You’re not the first person to say that,” he said over the rattle of a shaker.
“What, you don’t agree?”
Malcolm shrugged. “Kyle’s one of my best friends. I never really thou
ght about it.”
Malcolm glanced down the bar to where Kyle stood, pouring what looked like Manhattans into cocktail glasses. From a purely aesthetic perspective, Malcolm could appreciate the lean figure Kyle presented and the way his dark clothes set off his very fair skin and black hair. He knew his friend was more than just average on the attractiveness scale. Malcolm also loved Kyle dearly, and he was one of very few people Malcolm felt almost completely comfortable around. Regardless, detached admiration was as far as he got when it came to Kyle—nothing about his friend had ever sparked any kind of physical interest, before and after they’d grown close.
Not that Malcolm would admit any such thing to the man beside him. He imagined Stuart would find his utter lack of interest odd if not plain wrong.
That idea didn’t sit well with Malcolm at all.
Stuart shifted back in his seat when Malcolm pushed away his julep cup and reached for his wallet. “You outta here?”
“Yeah. I have a couple of meetings tomorrow morning and if I don’t get myself home soon, no way I’ll make it out of my apartment on time.” Malcolm went still when Stuart laid a hand on his arm.
“I’ll get this.” Stuart drew his own wallet from his pocket, a slim black billfold attached to a chain clipped to his belt loop. “It’s the least I can do for being such a bear when you walked in today.”
“I was just going to leave a tip for the waitstaff,” Malcolm said. “Kyle and Jes say my money’s no good in here and they wouldn’t charge you as my guest, either. But you switched to water even before we left the roof—doesn’t seem fair you’d be the one to leave the tip.”
“I don’t mind.” Stuart laid several bills on the bar top and slipped his wallet away again. “Besides, now I can say you owe me a favor.”
“I owe you?” Malcolm frowned. “Um. Okay. But—”
“I’m going to cash it in right now, too.”
Malcolm stood when Stuart did, his tired, slightly tipsy brain limping along but failing to catch up. “I don’t understand. What do you want from me?”
Straight Up Page 4