He uncrossed his arms. “Excellent.”
I could see his tension.
I could feel it.
I had plenty of my own, but I needed to be the calm one for him. The positive one. The one who wouldn’t let him blow his lid over anything and everything.
“It went great,” I assured him. “All we’ve heard is compliments.”
“So far,” he said, his palms on the counter, elbows bending, his head lowering. “There’s still plenty of time for bitching.”
“At least the servers said they devoured the appetizers. The main courses, in my opinion, are even better.”
He looked up at me. “The goddamn gas wasn’t coming through the range the way I needed it to. I couldn’t get thefucking flame at the right level. And don’t even get me started on the tofu and all those batches that decided to crumble and become unusable.” He groaned. “If I never fry a block of tofu again, it’ll be too soon.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do me a favor. Stop with the positivity.” He licked his lips, finally smiling. “How’s that for character development?”
He waited for a reaction, and I didn’t give him one.
“Trust me, I wanted to say a lot more and didn’t. I’d call that improvement.”
“Walker …” I shook my head, hiding my smile.
His description hadn’t been an exaggeration, and those weren’t the only problems that had gone down. There had been issues all day and night. We’d handled each one, but he was right; we had no idea how the main dishes were going to be perceived.
Even though the three dishes had made me moan, that didn’t mean they would translate well when prepared on a larger scale.
The kitchen door swung open as I was saying, “Walker, I think we should prepare—” and my voice cut off when I saw that it wasn’t one of the servers coming in, but it was James.
I sucked in a breath, my stomach suddenly in knots over her presence.
Every time I was around her, which had been multiple times this afternoon before the event started, I found it difficult to speak. There was something about her that I found completely overwhelming. Maybe it was that she was not only stunning on the screen, but even more so in person. Maybe it was the way she looked at me, giving me her full, undivided attention, even when I was having a hard time coming up with words. Maybe it was because, aside from Beck and Walker, I’dnever been around a celebrity before, especially one who was as famous as James.
“Walker,” I said in a soft voice, nodding toward the space behind him. “James is here.”
He turned around, staying by the counter. “Is something wrong?”
She halted next to him, her body pointed toward us. “No, actually, everything is so perfect. That’s why I wanted to come in and thank you.” She gave a smile that deserved to be on a billboard. “I told the server I didn’t want to be a pain, but I simply had to have all three options for dinner.” She laughed, rubbing her stomach. “I’m eating for two after all.” She gazed down at her bump. “I just have to say, the filet and ramen were exceptional. I’m talking truly wonderful dishes. But that halibut”—her eyes rolled—“that now owns a permanent place in my heart. I cannot get over how it just melted in my mouth.”
I could feel Walker’s anxiety begin to lift.
Or it quite possibly could have been my own, but the relief was so immense that I could cry.
“I’m happy you enjoyed it, James,” he replied.
She continued to rub her stomach as she said, “When all of this is done, say, in a few weeks, can I somehow convince you to come to my home and cook the same dish for Brett and me? I know what I’m asking, and I know someone of your caliber is probably booked out months in advance. But if you could make an exception, I would make it worth your while.”
Walker looked at me, his eyes grinning even though his mouth wasn’t. “It’s not me you have to convince, it’s Alivia, my sous chef. The halibut is her recipe, and she’s the one who made it this evening.”
“You don’t say.” As James shifted her focus to me, my nerves returned just as fast as they’d left, and I could no longerbreathe. “Well then, Alivia, what can I do to get you to say yes?” The same smile from before was on her face.
What … is even happening … right now?
James Ryne-Young wants me?
To cook for her?
At her house?
