“You asked why I would do this,” I interrupt him sternly because his tone makes it clear whatever he says is going to be a protest, “and I’m telling you. Plus, you will work late tonight and then come back tomorrow. It doesn’t make sense for you to go all the way out to Mirror Lake, if you can even get there, and then return to meet me for Dumpster Kitty’s appointment.”
He almost bobs his head in acknowledgement, but his stubborn brain kicks in and stills it.
“Take the key, Theo.”
His hand moves to obey before his mind can tell it not to. At that, I feel a rumble in my chest. A purr, just like Dumpster Kitty. Theo’s body knows what he needs, but his brain tells him to fight his instincts. I’m guessing he learned that lesson the hard way. The constant push and pull has got to be exhausting.
I wrap my much larger hand around his slim, capable one holding the plastic key card. Theo’s hands are stronger than they look. I keep it in mine to warm him up.
“Now.” I settle back on the brick. It’s too cold to stay out here much longer, and Theo will be needed. “I have to make my resolutions before my brothers ask. You got any?”
“No?” Then he snorts like he thought of something but it’s too preposterous to tell.
“Come on, you can do better than that, sweetness.”
“You first.”
I smile, giving him my very best one. Boy has fire, and I like when I see it. Like a little lion—fierce and fucking adorable.
“All right. I resolve that this year Pierre Stanton will come to Summit House. I will be his one positive review of the year.”
Theo huffs a little laugh, visible as his breath hits the cold air. I see it more than I hear it.
“Pierre Stanton,” he muses. “That’s what you are leading with?”
“You know who Stanton is?” I ask, unable to keep the grin off my face.
“Who doesn’t. . .” Theo begins, then quiets as I gaze at him. “Lots of people know him.” He’s oddly defensive, even slipping his hands from mine.
“I know that, sugar.” I lift his chin again. “It’s just that not everyone follows food critics.”
“He’s a food critic forBonandThe New Yorker. I don’t think you can just manifest him coming to Summit House as a resolution.”
“True.” I study Theo more closely. “Want to know a secret?”
“Okay?”
“When I was in culinary school, I had this instructor who worshiped Stanton. The way Stanton cut through the nonsense of most food critics to hit what mattered really got to me, so I decided his reception was how I would know I made it.”
“You are relying on a positive review from Pierre Stanton?” Theo’s face is totally turned toward me, eyebrows up to his hairline.
“Yep. That’s the one.”
Theo sputters beside me, one hand protectively on Dumpster Kitty. “Matt. You can’t control him even coming here. And if he did, he only does one positive review a year. That’s his average. And he doesn’t go to that many new places—”
“Because he hates disorganized kitchens. I know, sweetheart. If it was easy, anyone could do it.” Stanton is also known for his love of great finishers. He wrote an article naming restaurants that captivated him right through the dessert course. There weren’t many. According to Stanton, most kitchens see the sweet ending courses as afterthoughts. They aren’t to me, but if he ever came to Summit House before I fill the pastry chef position . . .well, he won’t come to such a new place, so it isn’t worth worrying about.
And therefore, I push the thoughts out of my brain.
I get to my feet and hold out my hand, and I don’t step back when I pull Theo up.
“Let’s close out this year, how about it? Baylor should be about to play his set. But first, go secure Dumpster Kitty in Quinn’s office. You can take her over to the condo with you if you want. I made sure it was one that’s pet-friendly. Just take her stuff with you.”
Theo looks at the cat with such adoration. My heart squeezes like someone’s hand is reaching through my chest and wrapping their hand all around it. “You hear that? Sleepover. Told you we would celebrate.”
Chapter 4: Theo
The sheets are warm. It’s the first day of the new year, and the sheets are warm.
