Page 48 of Just One Moment
Noone has noticed my arrival, too busy plating up dishes or shouting out orders.Boothis behind the pass, and even under the bandanna wrapped around his head, you can see his brow furrowed in concentration.
“C’mon, this dish is dying on the pass here.Whereare those fries?Kyle,Ineed that haddock boat in the next two minutes.”Hiscalm, firm tone is heard easily above the noise of pans clattering and sizzling food.
He’snot a dick like most chefsI’veinteracted with.Sure, he’s authoritative and will put pressure on his team when they need it, but he’s earned their respect.It’sclear from the chorus ofYes,Chefshe receives.
Ididn’t even think to check how busyOurPlacewas beforeIstormed in here, and it’s clear my brother doesn’t have time for my crap right now.I’mhalf turned to retreat, when he callsout, “Hey,Gray.Yougood?”Reluctantly,Iface him, just as one of the servers walks in to collect two plates of food. “Fortable seven,Macy.Apologizefor the wait.”
Movingfarther into the kitchen,Iscratch the back of my head. “It’sno big deal,Ishould have called ahead first.”
Booth’seyes narrow as he tracks the movement of my hand. “Simon, take over the pass, would you?We’vegot two entrées left to send out and thenIneed someone to start prepping some more burgers and scallops.”
“Yes,Chef,”Simon,Booth’ssous, says as he switches places with him.
BeforeIcan even protest, he’s untying his apron and washing his hands. “Let’sgo to the office.”
There’sno point in arguing, and let’s face it,Icame here to speak toBooth; to vent and run away from the humiliation of what just happened in my apartment.
Wewalk in silence to the office, and the moment the door clicks shut,I’mpacing and pulling at my hair. “Ican’t do it.”
Witha slow nod, he takes a seat on the cracked leather sofa in the corner of the room.He’squiet for a minute until he casually replies, “Okay.”
“Okay?That’sit?You’renot going to ask questions?”Isnatch my glasses off my face, my vision blurring whileImassage the bridge of my nose.
“Andconvince your stubborn ass?Unlikely.Ifyou don’t want to continue with it, then call it off, simple.Ican deal withMom’smatchmaking antics.”Hetilts his head and drapes an arm over the top of the sofa.
Hisreaction surprises the hell out of me, andIstand rooted to the floor.Iexpected him to fight me on this.
“Itwas stupid of me to even propose this idea to her.”
Allhe offers is a limp shrug and one word. “Okay.”
It’sobvious what he’s doing now.He’sforcing me to explain why, without even asking.
Iswallow down the urge to hide my words. “Ireally like her.”
AquietBoothis somethingI’musually begging for, but his silence pushes me closer to verbalizing my feelings.
“Ikissed her.Again.Or…she kissed me.ButIstopped it.”
“Why’dyou stop it?”
Draggingmy feet over to where he’s sitting,Idrop next to him with a sigh. “Shecalled it ‘practice,’ and it reminded me it’s all fake.It’sgoing to be fucking torture pretending we’re in a relationship until the end ofNovember.Ikeep coming on too strong and doing dumb shit.”
“Soyou’re going to kick her out and stop helping the bakery?” he asks.
Iblanch. “No.That’snot fair to her.It’snot her faultIhave this stupid crush.I’llleave it up to her, but after today,Iwouldn’t be surprised if she’s already packed her bags and left.”
“Atany point has she said or acted uncomfortable around you?”
Hasshe?Idon’t even know ifQuinnis capable of getting uncomfortable; she’s confident in her own skin and with her words.It’sone of the thingsIfind so lovely about her.It’salso what scares me, because it proves how different we are.
“No,”Ireply. “Wehang out a lot.Walkthe dog.Eatdinner together.WatchTV.Butwe also…talk.It’seasy with her.Andfun.”
“Likean actual couple…”
Idon’t bother responding to his comment, but he continues anyway.
“Maybeyou should speak toQuinnfirst.Momhasn’t shut up about her since dinner.”Heshoves a hand in my face whenIgo to argue with him. “Hush, you robot.Youlike her, and honestly,Icaught her looking at you a few times the other night like she’d forgotten it was all an act.Iknow you’renervous to get back out there, andIfucking despise thatJennaturned you into someone who doubts themself.I’mnot going to pressure you, and if you need to tellMom,Iget it.Letme just say one thing before you throw in the towel.