Goofy ones of Rhett absolutely drowning his beard in Animal-style sauce. A few artsy ones of the Hollywood sign, which Rhett had insisted on showing David. But mostly they were photos of Shyla’s new restaurant. It was sleek: black granite floors and walls, white marble counters, mahogany tables getting installed in the booths, a glass-walled wine room that enclosed a private dining room, plus a roomy cellar in the basement.
It was perfect. Pristine. Sterile.
Nothing like Aspire, where there was too little room for everything. Where he was always shoving cases of wine into whatever cranny he could find. Where he was constantly shuffling bottles into and out of the orphan bin. Where Jeri would tease him, and Kyra would laugh at him, and Brayan would make him try the latest toppings on his seasonal flatbread. Where they’d taste a bottle before service every night, because Jeri wanted the entire team—from the dishwasher up to the chef—to share in the love and knowledge of wine.
Aspire had character. It had love etched in every tabletop, in every counter, in every tile. It might not be on track for a Michelin star, but it was full every night, with regulars and newcomers and parties.
And it was home. When had David started thinking of Kansas City as home again? Was it the brunches with his mother? Dinners with his dad, and now Deb, too? Was it a kickball game in Loose Park?
Was it when Farzan made him soup, and he fell asleep as they watchedThe Muppet Movietogether?
Fuck. David had told himself Kansas City was just temporary. A stopping point on the way to bigger and better things. He hadn’t meant to put down roots, hadn’t realized how deep they’d dug until it was time to start yanking on them.
He’d spent years pursuing this dream. And now that it was in reach, all he could think about was a pair of warm brown eyes. A big nose and a sweet smile and a heart full of love for his family, for his community.
For David.
Fuck.Fuck!
When had Farzan become his new dream?
He came alive when he met Farzan. And now that he knew what that felt like, how could he go back? How could he let go of Farzan? How could he move away?
He couldn’t. It was as simple as that.
He couldn’t move to LA. Couldn’t take Rhett’s offer. Not if it meant leaving Farzan.
Not if it meant leaving his mom and dad. Not if it meant leaving Jeri and Kyra and all his friends at Aspire.
He had a lot of figuring out to do. He’d have to adjust his financial goals, that was for sure, and he probably couldn’t buy his mom a house anymore. But maybe being around was good enough.
And he’d have to see if Jeri would let him stay on permanently. Not that he really thought she’d turn him down, but what if she had someone else lined up? Some other young somm ready to learn and grow, like David had?
And he needed to tell Farzan. His heart gave a weird squeeze. Why did that make him nervous? Farzan would be happy, right?
Farzan loved him.
But Farzan loved his drive, and his passion. Farzan loved the version of him that was moving on to bigger and better things. Not the version that settled.
Except it didn’t feel like settling. It felt like choosing to be happy, for the first time in a long time.
Farzan would understand. David knew he would. He was worried for nothing.
Tomorrow he’d fly home to Kansas City, open his best bottle of Champagne, and he and Farzan would have two things to celebrate. (And then they’d make love. A lot.)
Everything was going to be perfect.
forty-five
Farzan
Denied?”
Farzan blinked at the loan officer across the desk from him: Daniel, a young Korean man with deep dimples, bowed lips, and a sharp suit. The top button of his dress shirt was unbuttoned, showing the sort of smooth, sculpted chest only twentysomethings with good genetics and plentiful gym access could pull off. Farzan only hated him a little bit.
Twenty-five, maybe twenty-six, young and hot and well established in a good career. If he hadn’t been so damned nice, Farzan would’ve hated him more. But he’d walked Farzan through the whole loan process. Had thought Farzan was a good candidate. And now…
“What do you mean, denied? I thought things were looking good.”
