Bothof my parents stared at me, hardly believing the words that had come out of mymouth. For so long I’d been the silent victim to her constant nagging. I’dtaken her anger, believing I deserved it, deserved their anger.
I’dfelt guilty for running away. I’d felt guilty for leaving Nolan, for leavingHamilton, for leaving everything behind. And they were so content with theirlife, so utterly happy with the smallness of it. I couldn’t live that way. Thatlife wasn’t for me. Those people weren’t for me. Nolan wasn’t for me.
Ithad taken almost ten years and an unlikely arrogant chef to help me see it, butI finally felt released from the chains of my childhood.
Mymother twisted the napkin in her lap and stared at her untouched pork belly.“Well.” She sniffed.
Surprisingeveryone, my father barked a low, “Enough, Dana. Eat the damn good food and giveher a break for once.”
Ihad to shove some tortellini in my mouth to hide my smile. My dad never stoodup to my mom. Like ever.
Butthen again, neither did I.
Itmight have been my imagination, but our dinner tasted even better after that.The conversation fell to safe topics like my sisters and how good everythingwas and the genius that was Darius the master barman.
Mydad and I even laughed over the different names of dishes as I explained therest of the menu and how frilly everything sounded. My mom never quite got overher ruffled feathers, but that was okay. I was willing to risk hers if it meantmine could be left alone.
Bythe time we got home, I was exhausted. All of us were ready for bed. I saidgoodnight to my parents and headed to my room.
Mindlesslyworking through my nightly routine, I saved plugging my phone in for last. Iknew I’d have a text waiting for me. I had several—precisely what I expectedafter Wyatt’s full on possessively affectionate act tonight.
Therewere several waiting for me from Dillon and Benny, even Endo had texted aWTF?!?! But it was Wyatt’s and only Wyatt’s that I was interested in opening.There were four of them, sent throughout the night.
Keep thinking about you and thatdress, Kaya. Damn.
Fiveminutes later he added,But it’s notbetter than you stripped naked for me. Need to see that again real soon.
Anhour later he sent,Hope I didn’t pissyour parents off too badly. To be fair, I was on my best behavior. At leastconsidering the circumstances. Don’t remember being that irritated in a longtime.
Andthen twenty minutes ago.PS, who thefuck is Nolan?
Ityped back,He’s nobody. For thefirst time in too many years, I meant it.
ChapterEighteen
Aweek later, I was back at Sarita and felt more at home than ever. Not just inthis restaurant, but in my own skin.
Aftermy parents left Monday morning, I’d grabbed some breakfast tacos, headed overto Lilou and enjoyed some one on one time with Wyatt. We’d spread out in hisoffice and laughed over the total headcase that was my mother.
Ithought he was going to be as exhausted with her as I always was, but he hadbeen surprisingly endeared. He claimed that he loved to see how much she caredabout me, even if it drove me crazy. And knowing his story with his mom, Irelaxed. My mom made me see red most days, but Wyatt was right, she loved memore than anything.
He’dasked about Nolan and I had reluctantly shared—not because I was afraid of whathe would think or of reopening my old wounds, but because Nolan finally feltlike my past. I finally felt like I could let him go and move on. It wasn’teven hard for me to admit that Wyatt had played a major role in my new-foundfreedom. He had helped me see that I was worthy again, that I was desirable.He’d helped me shed the prison of not feeling wanted, not feeling good enough.
Andyes, Wyatt’s affection and desire helped speed the healing process along. Butit was more than that too. It was his respect for me, his utter belief in me.It was the way he lifted me up and chased after me.
I’dlet one bad relationship define me for too long. Wyatt had opened my eyes to awhole new way of thinking. Nolan’s rejection didn’t get to have a hold on meanymore. I truly was the strong, independent, capable woman I had claimed to befor so long. And I might forget that sometimes in the future, but I would makesure Wyatt always reminded me. Or Dillon. Or I would tape sticky notes all overmy house that screamed the truth at me. Never again would I let someone elsedecide my self-worth.
Ourconversation had ended with secret kisses and wandering hands. We’d lockedourselves in his office until our coworkers started to show up and we wereforced to act professionally again.
We’dbeen playing the same game all week. And I thought we’d been doing a prettygood job of being discreet until yesterday when Dillon had caught me walkingout of Wyatt’s office with my chef coat undone and my lacey bra beneath totallydisheveled. She’d been texting me nonstop today. I’d been faithfully ignoringher glee.
Veraspun a plate in front of her and nonchalantly mentioned, “Ezra’s going to stopby tonight.”
Ifocused on plating scallions atop bite-sized circles of bacon-wrapped scallops.Albeit reluctantly.
Thiswas a dish I would change in a heartbeat. No more bacon wrapping anything. Ifwe were going to add bacon to a plate, it was going to be the feature, damn it.Not the saving grace to an otherwise bland, boring and outdated yawn-fest of adish. And we wouldn’t cut corners by gift wrapping mediocre seafood withoverpowering salt parties.
No,the right bacon could stand on its own. And the right scallops should stand ontheir own. I would take this dish and make it into two. Scallops diced overtoasted lavash, with sharp asiago cream sauce sprinkled on top, and a mint,cucumber drizzle finish.
