Chapter Twelve
The bastard was late.
“You sure you told him three and not four?” Mike paced the restaurant, and I checked my phone for a text from Frisco to see if he’d tried to get in touch, but it was blank.
“I spoke to him this morning. He’ll be here.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
I shouldn’t be. The man was an enigma wrapped in a puzzle tied in a bow of mystery, and aside from a few brief, unguarded moments, I’d yet to see the real him. Any attempt I’d made to get past those iron gates he’d surrounded himself with found them shutting down with aclangin my face.
I should walk away and tell him fuck it, not interested. But I’d be lying. I wassodamn interested to discover who the real Frisco was.
At the knock on the door, Mike whipped around, and from his relieved expression, I could tell Frisco was here. He pounded over to the front, unlocked the door, and pulled it so hard that it banged into the wall.
“You’re late,” Mike snapped at Frisco, who stood unperturbed at the entrance.
“Hello, Frisco. Thanks for offering to help me on such short notice.” Without acknowledging Mike, Frisco breezed inside, dropped his coat on a chair at the bar, and shockingly, gave me a kiss. “I’m so sorry you got stuck in the tunnel because the bridge was closed off and had no service to text.”
“I figured you had a reason,” I murmured. “I told Mike you’d be here.” He came dressed for the job, in black skinny pants that gave him legs for days and a gray professional chef’s jacket. I should’ve known a diva like Frisco wouldn’t do the job by half.
“My prince. I knew you’d stand up for me.”
“All right with the mutual ass-kissing. Can you keep it in your pants long enough to go to the kitchen and start prepping what’s left?”
Damn.Mike was on edge, and from the storm clouds in Frisco’s eyes, I knew he was itching to rise to the bait. I put a hand on his shoulder to whisper in his ear. “Cut him some slack, please? I know you can handle it, but Mike is still concerned.”
He trailed a finger across my cheek. “Only for you.” I half closed my eyes, expecting a kiss, but he walked away to the kitchen with Mike dogging his heels. Cursing my weakness, I followed them. Frisco had pulled out a kerchief and tied it around his forehead to keep the sweat from falling into the food, before picking up a hairnet.
“We have specials tonight of—”
Frisco held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. Give me the menu and let me see. I can’t concentrate if someone is yapping in my face.”
I sucked in a breath and watched Mike’s lips tighten to thin white lines. Mike might seem easygoing, but he could be mean if pushed.
“I. Don’t. Yap. And I don’t let anyone talk to me like that, especially prima donnas who might’ve gotten lucky one time. Yeah, you’re doing me a favor, but I’m putting my business on the line based on your claims you can handle a kitchen for the entire evening.”
Frisco turned to ice, stood taller, and glared down his elegant nose. “I’m here to save your ass and your restaurant’s reputation. If you don’t want me here, say the word, and I’m happy to leave.”
Helpless, I pictured Frisco turning on his heel and walking away, and the whole evening unraveling. Luis stared at me and spread his hands out, mouthing,Do something.
“Look, guys, can you put your dicks away and stop the pissing contest? Frisco, Mike’s on edge, and Mike, Frisco isn’t going to disappoint. Let him do his work, and I’m sure if he needs help, he’ll ask. Right?” I appealed to Frisco, who, though still scowling darkly at Mike, met my eyes and softened.
“I’m a professional. I can perform under any circumstances, no matter how difficult.”
Working his jaw, Mike speared a deadly gaze first at me, then Frisco, gave a sharp nod, and walked out.
“What crawled up his ass and died?” Frisco rinsed his hands, picked up the knife, and began to chop. Casting his eyes up to heaven, Luis sent a quick prayer, then got to pounding the chicken and veal cutlets.
“There’s a party tonight of New York State Supreme Court judges, and Mike wants to impress them. If they like the food, there’s a good chance of getting their business for future catering. Plus, just the stress. The good review helped tremendously, but between us…?”
Frisco stopped his knife work and met my eyes, and I couldn’t help but notice those ridiculously thick lashes sweeping up to his dark brows. “What’s wrong?”
I lowered my voice. “I’m not sure he can handle the pressure. He’s dealing with too much stress. Between the new baby and Jasper’s accident, it’s been a lot for him to handle. I worry about him having a heart attack like our father.”
Without answering, Frisco picked up his knife, and when it became apparent he would remain silent, I slipped away. The last thing I needed was to look over his shoulder and have him think I was babysitting.
By nine o’clock that night it became apparent that Frisco had things well under control and Mike had no need to worry. The meals came out on time, beautifully presented, and from the smiles on the diners’ faces, tasting as delicious as they looked. I was hungry as well, but covering the bar and the register left me no time to get away and grab a bite.
