When I held out my hands to lift the plates off the counter, his eyelids narrowed, and his head shook.
“I should have taken a picture of that plate,” I told him. “To add to my small but growing collection on Instagram.”
He leaned forward to get closer, peering at me from under the shelf. “Why are you telling me that?” His voice was extremely low and growly.
I kept mine at a whisper when I said, “I don’t know. Maybe it’ll earn me another like from a whiskey connoisseur … like yourself.”
“A whiskey c—” His gaze turned lethal.
I was positive he’d just realized what I meant.
And my stare was extra soft and sweet, just like my smile before I turned and carried the plates out of the kitchen.
Me
I need to brag about something because I have no one else to brag to.
Lex
That’s what I’m here for, lover. Brag away. Tell me everything!
Me
I came up with an idea while I was at Charred tonight. A problem-solving type of thing for a customer. It involved a TINY bit of cooking, and the customer ended up loving it. But the biggest accomplishment of all was that the chef had trusted me to run with the idea. Lex, it was amazing.
Lex
BABE! Omg! SEE, it’s happening, just like I knew it would. You’re going to be serving there before you know it, and then the next step is boss bitch.
Me
I’m so far from boss bitch, but I’m so excited about how tonight turned out. A small step, but it feels like a giant one.
Lex
The chef wouldn’t be the hottie Walker Weston, would it?
Me
It is … but trust me, he gives me no special treatment. The dude is still a raging asshole to me.
Lex
You do know what that means, don’t you?
Me
What?
Lex
He’s obsessed with you.
Me
Sigh.
SEVENTEEN
