Page 7 of The Holiday Set Up
We say at the same time and laugh at the meddling old woman. It shouldn’t surprise me that she set us up, but then again, even if she suspects my feelings for Blair, Fitzy knows my life is in danger. So why would she want to involve her?
Chapter Seven
Blair
Walking into the immaculate building, my nose is immediately filled with the yummiest culinary aromas. Garlic and cumin for sure, but lots of spices swirl around the air as a waiter walks by with something sizzling on the tray he’s holding up high.
“Was that a crab?”
“I can’t tell I’m too short,” I say, looking up at Oliver. The giddy feeling intensifies when he reaches down and takes my hand in his as a woman dressed in all black comes to the podium in front of us.
“Reservations for O’ Quinn.”
“Right this way. The chef is expecting you.”
The cute hostess waves us in, and we follow her down an exquisite rug. Maroon with beautiful gold patterns intertwined. The ceilings are giant and detailed, with colorful murals everywhere. It matches the historic district perfectly with restorations and attention to detail. We’re led to a quiet corner tucked away in a bay window. It’s night, and the city of Bourbon glows like a billion fireflies outside. Oliver pulls my chair out for me, and the boyish smile on his face makes me swoon. He always looks at me like I’m the most important person in the room. Almost as if he loves me.
“This place is beautiful.” He says, taking his seat across the little table from me. There’s a small tea candle between us inside a ring of eucalyptus. The simple setting is perfect with the bright white tablecloth.
“I’ve heard everyone raving about this place. They’re booked out for a month.” I whisper.
“I can only imagine how Fitz got us in,” he says, smiling so big his dimples pop. I especially love the one on his chin.
“Good evening. I’m Dane Carmichael, the owner here at KRAZE and your chef for the evening. I wanted to personally come over and say hello Fitzy Fitzpatrick’s family,” Dane says, and shakes hands with Oliver and then with me.
He’s handsome in a James Dean way. Classy and sophisticated, with the allure of someone who dominates a room. It’s funny, I should be swooning, but it’s not Dane that holds my interest tonight. I’m one lucky girl to be here with Oliver. The guys laugh at a joke I missed while daydreaming, then Dane gets to the good stuff.
“For dinner tonight, I was hoping you both would trust me to bring you what I know you’ll love. You see, I have this superpower for guessing the perfect dish for each of my guests.”
“Is that why you’re always booked? You have limited seating to tailor each plate yourself?” I ask.
“No. I assure you, I want to feed the world. I’m not going to limit the guests that come through my door, but for certain people, I use my superpower to impress them, and any family of Fitzy is a friend of mine. So, what do you say? Do you trust me?”
I nod, excited by the prospect of being surprised by a celebrity chef. The man has traveled the world cultivating his craft. He started in San Diego, California, and his popularity grew quickly when he was on a popular cooking show; and if his reputation precedes him, we are in for the best meal of our lives.
When I glance over at Oliver, he looks so nervous I can’t help but laugh. Luckily, it seems to make him relax, and he nods to Dane, laughing.
“Are you afraid he’s going to bring you something you don’t like? Why the scared face?” I ask after Dane takes off towards the kitchen.
He leans forward like he wants to tell me a secret, so I lean too.
“I’m embarrassed to admit I’m not a very adventurous eater. Certain spices and nuts make me itch.”
“Do you have food allergies?”
“A little.” He shrugs. “Nothing serious.”
“You should go tell Dane what to stay away from.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I wouldn’t be rude by telling him what not to put in the dish, right? ‘Cause he seems really cool, and I do want to enjoy my meal without someone spitting in it.”
I nod, laughing. “Dane doesn’t seem like a man who would spit in anyone’s food.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll be right back,” he says, scooting back and heading in the direction Dane went. I take the opportunity to pull my phone out and shoot a message to Fitzy.
Me: you are the WORST
Fitzy: You spelled BEST wrong, sugar ??