“No shit.”
“Yeah. They kept them in the refrigerator in these jars filled with what looked like moldy water. How the fuck was I supposed to know they cost like five hundred dollars an ounce?” In my mind’s eye, I heard my instructor screaming at my stupidity. “In the end, I think I threw out about three thousand dollars’ worth of truffles. My father had to pay for it, and he wasn’t pleased.”
“I can only imagine.”
At that point he was too sick to make much of a fuss, and none of it mattered anyway, as he didn’t live to see me graduate that summer. I accompanied his body to the Tuscan countryside where his family lived, stayed long enough to see him buried and settle his estate, then left for good. At twenty-five, I was well and truly on my own, determined to never let anyone or anything hurt me again.
We finished our meal and passed on dessert but decided on a glass of port. I liked spending time with a person who understood my passion and loved what I loved.
“How is Jasper? Has he come back to work yet?” I warmed the glass of heavy sweet wine between my hands.
Torre gazed into his glass. “Not yet. His hand is still too swollen. I’ve been helping out, but Mike needs a full-time person to fill in. Problem is, he’s so picky about who he lets into his kitchen, it’s hard to find someone to meet his standards.”
Without thinking, I said, “I could do it.”
Doubt, surprise, and skepticism crossed Torre’s face. “That’s nuts.”
“Why?” I sipped the port. “Don’t think I can handle it?” I raised my brow. “I assure you, I can. It will be fun for me to exercise my skills, and Mike will have a professionally trained chef in the house.” I brushed my hands together, as if the matter was decided. “Win-win.” I grinned as Torre’s eyes widened. I wanted to kiss his open, astonished mouth.
“Frisco, I can’t…you can’t…”
I smiled at him.
* * *
“And so I told him I’ve never listened to anyone tell me I can’t.” Two hours later, I lay on my sofa, talking to Press on the phone. It took a bit of convincing, plus a call to Mike who, though initially wary, came around, especially when I told him I expected no pay. Torre then needed some extra reassurance, accomplished by way of deep kissing in the back of our shared ride home to get him to see I was the perfect solution to his brother’s problems.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Press muttered darkly.
“One of my finer qualities.” I sipped a cappuccino. “I presume the reason you called me three times tonight was your prince charming told you he saw me at the restaurant.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a date? And with Torre. I can’t believe you’re still seeing him. He didn’t seem your type.”
“Do tell, Press. Why isn’t the man my ‘type’? Considering you’ve seen him once, I’m interested in your opinion.”
“I hear that tone, princess. You know damn well. Anyone who spends time with you and keeps their clothes on isn’t your usual type.”
Hmm…he had a point, but not one I was willing to debate at the moment.
“Well, obviously you’re mistaken, as I’ve spent several evenings with Torre and we’ve kept our clothes on. Unfortunately.” Working in his brother’s restaurant would hopefully change that.
“Nate said you seemed very into Torre.”
“Nate doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” I growled. “Take him to bed and make him happy, so you can both stay out of my personal life.”
But Press and I hadn’t been best friends almost our whole lives by bullshitting each other. I might be blunt with him, but he gave as good as he got.
“You can deny, deny, deny, but when my best friend is going on restaurant dates for the first time ever and seeing the same guy more than once, hell yeah, I’m going to stick my nose in his life. I only want the best for you.”
“And for some reason you think that means coupling up. I’m happy being single.”
“If I thought that, I’d leave you alone,” Press said. “But not when I see your eyes. You’re my best friend, yet you never tell me when you’re hurting. And don’t make a stupid comment that you aren’t. We’ve had this conversation enough times already. I know what I see. But if it’s not me you feel you can turn to, if it’s Torre, that’s okay. I love you and want you to be happy. Nothing can ever change that.”
Love.When I was young I thought a parent’s love was indestructible. It was supposed to be the bedrock of a child’s life. But my mother changed all that, and so the word wasn’t to be used lightly. I’d said it to two people in my life. One was Presley, who I knew would always be there for me. The other had taken advantage, betraying me in the worst possible way.
“I’d like to believe that, Press. And I love you. You know that. You’re the only one I trust.” Time and again, he’d proved to be the one constant in my life, but even that would change with his marriage. I wasn’t sure how I would handle it. Probably get very drunk.
“Don’t you see how this man has changed you already? Even having this conversation about him means he’s touched you.”
