“Okay, looks like I’ve suddenly got one more reason to make this the best service possible tonight,” I chuckle. “But if that hunk of hotness dares to complain, I’ll have him across my lap quicker than a dropped egg cracking on my kitchen floor…”
The kitchen is a blur of activity.
“Coming through!” Antonio calls, motioning for the new sous chef to move in double-quick time. “Good work everyone. But we’ve got a big order from a very big table. Each and every dish needs to land!”
“Antonio is right,” I say, my voice controlled. “I want these big guys to leave feeling full. But also feeling like they’ve tasted somethingincredible.”
I’m making my orders heard loud and clear and my team is working to the peak performance I know they’re capable of. It’s almost like we’re in a total flow state when everything clicks like it is this evening.
The yuppie asshole is a distant memory, and I haven’t had a single complaint or query since. Hey, it could be that everyone else is just too scared. Or, hopefully, it could be that we’re simply making the best damn food in the whole city, or anywhere else for that matter.
But this table—featuring a certain hunk—is the target now.
And I’m going to personally make sure that he gets everything he wants and a whole lot more. However before I do that, I need to go in prepared.
“Lazlo,” I say, beckoning over the maître dee. “What’s the skinny on the table of burly guys?”
Lazlo arches his eyebrow. He knows what I’m thinking. Maybe because he’s a Daddy too. But, whatever, I can see that he already has all the information I need and has probably been waiting since the second they walked in the door to reveal all.
“Olivier, Olivier… great minds think alike,” Lazlo laughs. “They’re a table of hotties, that’s for sure. But, you want details,not just a lowdown of what my dick thinks. Long story short. They’re a construction crew from across the coast, Los Torros to be precise.”
“They’re a long way from home,” I reply. “Must be a big money job?”
“Kind of,” Lazlo says, a twinkle in his pale blue eyes. “But get this. They’re doing an affordable housing build. I asked a couple of my guys and apparently they’re a solid crew who are pretty much doing this at breakeven cost. This is huge for the area.”
“Hell yeah,” I say, my mind spinning. “Jeez. That hedge fund asshole earlier nearly made me flip my lid. To hear that there are good people still doing good things in the world is quite the thing.”
“They’ve got some funding in place, but mainly this is an initiative from their boss,” Lazlo continues. “And that would be Xander. Big guy. I mean, they’reallbig. But I’ll point him out.”
“Good,” I say, walking over toward the large glass panel that looks out onto the restaurant floor. “Point him out.”
But as Lazlo points Xander out, my eyes are immediately drawn back to the big beefcake who grabbed my attention outside. Damn. If he looked good outside, he looks even better under the carefully curated lights of the restaurant floor.
“Lazlo,” I say. “I’m going to be personally seeing to this table tonight.”
“Right…” Lazlo answers, struggling to contain his laughter. “As you wish.”
Lazlo pats me on my shoulder and gets back to being busy. Meanwhile my mind is already running wild with thoughtsabout the boy. I know it’s only a fantasy. For all I know, he might be partnered up in a long term relationship. And yet…
I know he’s single.
I can sense it.
And now I need to make him mine…
Chapter 3
Danny
The restaurant iswaaayfancier than anything I’m used to.
Crystal glasses, heavy silver cutlery, low lighting that makes everyone look like they stepped out of a magazine. It’s intimidating, that’s for sure. But with the rest of the crew seemingly not bothered, that does actually make me feel a little more chill about the whole thing.
I slide into my seat at the long table, sandwiched between Mikey and Lane, and try to make myself smaller even though that’s basically impossible with my shoulders.
But, hey, it’s not like the others aren’t pretty damn big either.
Xander’s at the head, of course, looking relaxed in a dark button-down that strains across his chest. Taylor’s opposite him, already scanning the room like he’s casing a bar for the quickest exit to the nearest beer tap. The rest of the crew fill out the table: Taylor, Lane, a couple of the other guys from the site whose names I’m still trying to lock in.
