I clean up the dishes, loading the dishwasher, then finishing off the pots and pans I used. The deep farmhouse sink makes it easy. Once I am happy with the way the kitchen looks, I head back to my own room to get ready to do some unpacking.
My phone plays my text tune I have for my sister Gerry.
Gerry: I heard that asshole got you kicked out of your apartment.
Gerry is always about three days late on all O'Bryan family gossip. She’s in New York right now and normally, being miles apart doesn’t hinder our communication. We’re a big crazy family, but we are always in each other’s lives. I had to shut my phone off once in Afghanistan because Cora kept sending me texts during an important meeting with my squad leader. She thought I should have a description of every disgusting pregnancy symptom she had. I still think she made up a few.
Me: Yeah, but thankfully, I have a good friend who let me move in.
Gerry: Please, tell me it isn’t one of the women you date.
I roll my eyes. My sisters are constantly bugging me about my lifestyle. Gerry has no room to talk, but then she’s got one more year to go before she is a full-fledged doctor.
Me: No. It’s Allison’s best friend. She has a huge house, works about seventy hours a week, and wants nothing to do with me.
I add that last part in even though I have no idea if it is true and it definitely smarts. Listen, I don’t need all women to love and adore me. I do know that I am attractive. It’s kind of hard to avoid that situation. And, I know I sound kind of like an ass, but I don’t take credit for my looks. They come directly from my mother and father. I had nothing to do with it. Still, I know how to use them to my advantage. I never thought of Savannah that way though…until today.
Today, I saw another side to the hard ass I’ve known for a couple of years. Her generosity is sweet, very unlike the woman she shows the world. It’s like outside of this house, she’s a foul-mouthed grump. Here, she’s softer, appealing, and so sexy. Nope, that’s not exactly right. She’s sexy even when she’s bitching.
And while I find her beautiful, and if she wasn’t a friend who was doing me a favor, I would definitely try to talk her into bed. But I think as I look around the boxes in my room, she is my friend, and I have a life to get back on track.
With that thought, I dive into the first box and get to work.
Chapter Seven
Savannah
I walk into the kitchen of Trinidad on Tuesday knowing that it should be a slow day. Should be are the operative words. There’s always a good chance that things will go to crap the moment I step through the door.
I don’t normally take over the kitchen until around four. Today, I’m in early to meet with my parents, which of course leaves me with a lead weight in my stomach. I’ve already decided to push to get off the week of Allison’s wedding. It’s the week of Cinco de Mayo, which she has asked me about, and I told her it was no problem. I kind of lied. I know, judge me later. I have this sickness in wanting to give everyone what they need and then I end up burning that proverbial candle at both ends.
Still, this is important. I want to be there for all the fun that starts on Wednesday with her bachelorette party. There’s the rehearsal dinner on Friday night and then the whole wedding thing all day Saturday. I don’t have many close friends, especially women friends. This is important to me.
Mario frowns when he sees me. “You’re early.”
“Hello to you too, Mario.”
“What are you doing here so early?”
“Meeting.”
He knows what that means, and the expression he gives me makes him look like he sucked a lemon dry. Then, his gaze roams over me from head to toe. “You do look better.”
“I got a lot of sleep and a couple of new roommates since Saturday.”
He blinks. “What?”
I chuckle. “My friend needed a place to live with his cat. I put him in Abuela’s old room.”
“Him?”
“Nothing like that. Just a really good friend. Believe me, the guy isn’t interested in a woman like me.”
Although, there were moments last night that I could pretend that he did. It isn’t that he’s my type. I don’t even know if I have a type. Nope, that’s wrong. While I am a virgin, I’m not completely inexperienced. Once I graduated from culinary school, I dated on a regular basis. There was a lot of what my mother would call heavy petting, and a little oral sex. Most of those guys, though, were in the food industry. With my hours—even back then—it was hard to find time to meet men outside of it. When you’re stuck in the back of a restaurant most of the time, you don’t interact with the public. No one worked hard enough to get me to do anything past oral. And truth was, I didn’t want to put in the time. I thought when I met the first man I wanted to give it up to, I would know. Like we would click on a level other than sexual.
Truthfully, I had been dating another sous chef pretty seriously a few years ago. He worked at a restaurant across town, but we knew each other from the CIA. Frank had been funny and a kick ass chef. When Tito died and I had to come back to San Antonio, we sort of both lost interest. It’s hard to keep a relationship going long distance, especially without the kind of intimacy that binds people together. So, not inexperienced, I just didn’t have time for a personal relationship.
Even though I find Fritz attractive, he’s the last man I should get involved with. He’s a player, a man who isn’t really a bad man, but he isn’t going to settle down. Even in his thirties, he seems happy to play the field. With four unmarried brothers who are all older than I am, I definitely have no issues with that. But still, he isn’t the kind of guy I should fall for. I need to trust the man I date and, while I don’t think Fritz would lie outright, I don’t know how long he would stick around. When I dip my toe in the dating pool this time, I want to get a little more serious with someone. Fritz is not that man.
Still, it had been fun to pretend that it had been a date. Sadly, I lacked social skills to make it work in real life, but I could pretend while there in the backyard. I used to be able to date, but the last few years have really caused me to retreat into my hidey hole. I need to get my ass back out there, but at the moment, I had no idea where to start. One thing I know is that dating Fritz isn’t an option.
“What’s wrong with you?” Mario demands. He has always treated me as if I were his daughter. Granted, I’m just two years younger than he is, but he apparently has more paternal feelings for me than my own parents do.
I push those thoughts aside because heading down that road isn’t going to be good for me.
“I like him as a friend. Don’t want to screw that up.”
He nods. “I thought the same thing about Jay.”
“Wait, you and Jay were friends first?”
“Yes. Best friends.”
I roll my eyes. “Best friends are different. Anyway, I have to deal with my parents. I saw their Suburban in the parking lot.”
“Been here for a little bit chatting with Austin.”
I nod. “Wish me luck.”
“You got it. You make sure they know that I will be here to handle everything when you take off those few days in May. The world will not come to an end.”
Mario has worked for my family for about a decade, so he knows my parents well. Their insistence that I am always here is a little insane, but I saw them try the same thing with Tito.
I head out to talk to them. I find them at the bar with Austin. He always tends bar on Tuesdays, but he gets three days off a week. I would be bitchier to him if I thought he loved what he did. He hates it. I can tell by the way he goes about his work. Don’t get me wrong. Austin is well-known for his margaritas, and he is the genius behind the craft cocktails we serve. He’s been written up in local, state, and national magazines and blogs for his concoctions, but it’s not what he’s trained to do.
Nope, Austin has a master’s degree in restaurant management. He also has decent kitchen skills, although he doesn’t love it
like I do. He should be the one running everything. Instead, my parents—mainly my mother—sticks him behind the bar. The only thing keeping him here is loyalty. We’re just lucky no other restaurant has realized what a gem he is and tried to steal him. Although, if they had, I doubt he would have told me about it.
The biggest fight I’ve had in the last year with my parents was when I tried to get them to hand over things to Austin. Now, I handle the food side of the business. The menus are my creations, and all the head chefs answer to me. The business side of things sits with my parents. They have a stranglehold on that and refuse to relinquish it. They don’t care that they are sucking the happiness out of Austin.
“Hey, Savannah,” he says. “You’re early.”
“I need to talk to Mama and Dad.”
They both turn to me and I hate our relationship now. Granted, they were always closer to my brothers. All four of them have business minds. It takes me twice as long to deal with numbers and figures. I just…can’t. I hate every bit of it. I know how to manage a kitchen—even an entire restaurant, but beyond ordering the food and knowing how to budget for that, I am lost.
As I walk forward, I think about my parents. They had never been overly affectionate. I have no idea why, since Tito and my abuela were. I know that most people see people with Mexican backgrounds and think that we’re all loving and tight. Yeah, that’s a stereotype. Sure, a huge chunk of my family is like that, but not my mother and father. Their focus is on making money and, to an extent, I understand how they have turned out the way they are. A massive family—blood and otherwise—depends on our businesses succeeding. They liked the lifestyle but never really worked in the restaurants once they reached the age of thirty. Still, they are a unit, a formidable one. They know they have each other’s backs and I have to admire that.
“Mama,” I say leaning forward and giving her a kiss on the cheek, then doing the same for my father.
“So, what is it that you wanted to talk to us about?” my mother asks. She married up, as she likes to say. Dad was working in the kitchen when she was hired as a waitress. Nabbing the owner’s son was a feather in her cap.
“I need the week of Cinco de Mayo off.”
There is a beat of silence. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
This comes from my mother. She is definitely the one in charge of their marriage and our lives.
“It’s Allison wedding and I am in it.”
Now, they know this, but it isn’t a detail they would remember. It isn’t about them. Even if they RSVP’d to the wedding, they would give it no thought in regards to me.
“That’s an insane week for us, you know this,” my father says. “It’s only a couple weeks away.”
Yep, I waited to spring this on them. Main reason? It gives them less time to come up with some dumbass reason why I can’t. Two weeks still gives them that opportunity, but I don’t want to be accused of springing it on them.
“I know, that’s why Mario and I already have a plan worked out.”
Cinco de Mayo is big in San Antonio, and it’s always filled with lots of tourists and residents who use the holiday to get drunk. We are usually filled to the gills with people, and my parents always think it’s a good idea to bring old friends in to show them how successful our family is.
“We can handle it,” Austin says. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I toss him a thankful glance, then turn my attention back to my parents. I don’t say anything, waiting for their answer. The truth is, there is no other answer. I will be off for it. I haven’t put my foot down about anything else, but Allison is one of the most important people in the world to me, and I will not miss this.
“If we agree to this, we need something from you,” my mother says. Oh, yeah, I think I forgot to mention that my parents always insist on something from us if we ask for anything. They really don’t understand the whole parent/child thing.
Now, I already have a plan. I am scheduled for the next two weeks, no break. It isn’t necessary. I’ve worked damned hard to make sure this restaurant works like a well-oiled machine. Even with hiccups like we had the other night with Toby being pissy about his feelings, we still kicked ass.
I frown. “Of course.”
“No. I don’t think you understand. No time off.”
This isn’t needed. We all know it, but they always seem to need something from me to make them feel like they are winning.
“You want me to work fifteen days straight without a day off?”
My mother nods without breaking eye contact. It’s a test. I know this. She knows this. Hell, Simone my favorite waitress knows it as she is eavesdropping as usual. I have to fight the smile that threatens. This is exactly what I thought my mother would ask for. She’s done it before, so I preempted her by planning for it. I just won’t tell her because then she’ll know I pulled one on her.
“Savannah, there’s no need—” Austin starts, but I cut him off.
“I’ll do it.”
My mother looks like she won some kind of game, which to her it is. It’s stupid and makes no sense, but she needs it on some sick level. All I care about is being there to enjoy all the fun that week and see Ed and Allison get married.
“Good. We’ve wasted enough time on this. Let’s go, Roberto.”
My father studies me for a long moment before following her out the door.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” Austin demands.
“What did you expect me to do? They won’t let me have it off if I don’t give them something. You and I both know I work every day so what’s the big deal? Fifteen days is nothing.” And as I told you, that had been the plan all along.
He stares at me for a long moment, and I know what’s coming. Out of all my brothers, he is the only one who regularly stands up for me. The other three resent me. Well, they all do, but Austin sometimes remembers he’s my brother.
“You need to stand up for yourself.”
“I don’t have time for this,” I mutter and walk away, through the double doors into the kitchen. I know he’s following me, because I know Austin. I’m the youngest. He sees it as his job to protect all of us, and that’s why he tends bar when he should really be running the entire business. Of all my brothers, he’s the only one I talk to on a normal basis. Sadly, I think if he didn’t run the bar in my restaurant, he would be like my other brothers. Distant and judgmental. Well, distant. Austin always has something to say about my relationship with our parents.
I settle in my chair and wait for him to shut the door. I don’t like arguing about things in front of employees and Austin knows it.
“You need to start taking a stand.”
I’ve heard this for at least three years.
“I get it, Austin.”
“No. I don’t think you do.”
I look up at his serious tone. There is something different in it, something that hints at a desperation I haven’t heard before.
“What?”
“You weren’t here with Tito. I watched it happen with him, and I won’t let them send you to an early grave too.”
I shake my head. “I think you’re blowing this out of proportion. I just need to get through these two weeks, and I’ll be golden.”
Look, I get it. My parents are true assholes. The fact that my mother thinks she can pull this shit is stupid, but I’ve worked more than two weeks straight before, so I have no issue doing it again. And this time, I get five days off. While I have a lot to do with Allison for the wedding, I plan on sleeping. A lot.
“What makes you think they will let you off?”
“They will, or I will walk.”
He gave me a look that told me he didn’t believe me.
“I will. This is more important to me than…anything right now. You know that when I came back here most of my friends wanted nothing to do with me.”
Not that I had a lot of time for a social life. Allison is the only old friend from high school who made th
e time. For that, and for being the person she is, I will not miss this. My parents won’t take this away from me.
“Allison is important to me. She didn’t have to ask me to be in the wedding. I will not let her down.”
“Savannah,” he says as he shakes his head.
I know he doesn’t believe me, but it isn’t like he can talk.
“When are you going to talk to them about giving you more control of the business?”
He gives me a look as if I have lost my mind. Yeah, our entire family is built inside a glass house. None of us stand up to our parents. Austin should be managing the business. Diego should be learning about wine, his one true passion. Lou has wanted to start a food truck division, diversifying us even more. Dallas…well his head is up in the clouds and he would rather be an artist full time. He is the most amazing painter; but, instead, he handles our marketing.
None of us do what we truly want. We grumble to each other, insisting that someone should stand up to our parents, but none of us have the nerve.
“Don’t worry. There will be some kind of issue, they will get pissy with me, but I have a counteroffer. I will offer it to them when she tries her shit.”
He sighs and shoves his hand through his hair. “Something has to give, Savannah.”
I nod. We both know that things are not good working in the business right now. Granted, we are still making a fortune, but things feel…off. Since it isn’t my part of the business, I just shrug.
“It’ll all work out. Now, go away. I need to look over the menus for the next two weeks, before I get to work.”
He turns to leave but stops and looks at me, keeping his hand on the doorknob. “You know I love you, right?”
His dark brown eyes bore into me. There is no doubt in my mind how serious he is right now. I don’t hear those words from my brothers that often, hell, from most of my family. The backs of my eyes burn with tears I fight back.
I nod. “I love you too, Austin.”
He sighs and I know he wants to say more, but instead, he leaves me alone to my unsettled thoughts. I don’t understand why my parents are the way they are. My grandmother was lovable, as was Tito. My various aunts and uncles are all overly affectionate, and they never hesitate to hug and kiss me. Before my depression can hit me too hard, my phone pings with a text.
Scrumptious: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Camos and Cupcakes Book 3) Page 6