Page 61 of My Heart Belongs to You

He nodded. “That’s it.”

I reached for my shorts and top while Nadir put on his underwear.

“My reaction to you texting her was overblown,” I said.

Peering down at me, he grabbed my chin. His eyes bored into mine as he said, “You don’t have to worry about her. Just like I’m not worried about him.”

So true.

Joseph was a great guy. He just wasn't the one for me. At this point, I kept him around for fun. He hadn’t come to see me since I’d returned from Portland and I was tired of waiting for him to make a move. Joseph wasn't aggressive in his pursuit of me. Maybe that was why I didn’t feel that spark between us; he’d done nothing to ignite it. I wasn’t interested enough to put forth more effort than I had before.

“It’s not them I’m worried about,” I mused.

“I get that, but there’s only one way to know if your worries are valid.” He sat down next to me on the couch.

“Trial and error with my best friend? What could go wrong?”

Nadir laughed. “Come on, G.”

“Just saying,” I replied while rewinding the movie to where we left off.

As we continued the movie, our conversation looped in my mind. I saw how many women Nadir had been over the last few months. If he were any other man, I’d stay far away from him. I wasn’t so naive that I believed I was different and above him hurting me. My reaction to him texting Lex was alarming to say the least. Jealousy was one of the many reasons I needed to get it together. I didn’t need that green-eyed monster to rear its head right now. Nadir wasn’t my man and I needed to act accordingly.

The tension between us settled and we enjoyed the rest of the night together. When it was time for him to leave, I prolonged his exit. I trailed kisses down his neck and over his Adam’s apple. He hummed; the sensation made my lips tingle. I was torn because I wanted him to stay, but I knew sleeping alone tonight would help me sort my thoughts.

“I gotta go,” he rasped, holding my waist.

I kissed his lips then sighed. “I know.”

“Call me tomorrow.”

As I closed the door, I exhaled. How was I supposed to reconcile falling in love with my best friend? I thought I had a hold on my feelings, but the tightness in my belly told me I’d lost control a long time ago. And there was no chance of me getting a hold of the reins.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

My email was in shambles. With just one week until my soft opening, also known as friends and family night, all the RSVPs had come through at once. After reviewing the guest list, I forwarded the final count to my floor manager and sous chef so they could coordinate seating and solidify our serving menu. The closer we got to my opening, the more anxious I became. Next Monday, I’d bare my heart to industry insiders, peers, and neighbors. Making my family proud was a priority, so everything needed to be in order.

After clearing my inbox, I walked to the tasting room where Carmen met with our serving staff. This afternoon, Raven and Adrienne were stopping by during a mock shift. My kitchen was prepared to make one of each dish. Whatever was left over, we’d distribute amongst each other or donate to our local shelter.

“Get familiar with the menu, find your favorites and recommend them. Build rapport with guests. We want to provide an unforgettable experience every night.”

I nodded then continued to the kitchen. The comforting scent of my abuelita's spice mix filled my nose. Instantly I was taken back to my childhood where she’d have Ismael Rivera playing on an old radio. A smile covered my lips while observing my prep cooks chop and store onions, peppers, and herbs.

Opal, my sous chef and friend, stood near the fridge analyzing the kitchen’s flow. With furrowed eyebrows, she observed everyone’s movements, pace, and precision. I recognized that expression as I’d seen it many times over the years. She trained me as a prep cook when I was sixteen. As a recent culinary school graduate, she had fresh eyes and was a great mentor. After ten years, she left to compete on shows and shadow other world-renowned chefs. Her return to The States was kismet, happening just as I finalized my business plan for Brie & Bordeaux.

“Opal Jones, you have it smelling like my abuelita’s kitchen,” Raven said as she entered.

“High praise coming from you,” Opal replied with a smile.

Raven smiled as she gracefully maneuvered through the line carrying a drink tray and a white paper bag. Everyone nodded in greeting as they continued their prep work. She handed me the bag; my belly roiled in response. I couldn’t wait to delve into Buttercup Biscuits Co’s buttery goodness.

“They dropped their summer jam menu,” Raven said with bright eyes.

I loved how most restaurants in Roseville were farm to table. Their groundwork with the farmers in our region made the process seamless for me, minus one farm. As Raven and I walked to my office, I texted Nadir. Our meeting with the owners of The Fruit Stand needed to be rescheduled.

ROBYN: