Page 83 of My Heart Belongs to You

I smiled. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“How are you feelin’?”

“Good. My parents left not too long ago.”

I went on to share my parents' reaction to my restaurant and the sweet moment we shared afterward. Nadir rubbed my shoulders and neck while listening to every word. His eyes never left mine, which made staying on topic arduous. By the end of my story, my shoulders were relaxed.

“What did you just do to me?” I asked, rolling my neck, feeling looser all of a sudden.

“You were tense.”

“I was?”

His cheek lifted into a half-smile. “You’re running off pure adrenaline right now.”

Inhaling, I nodded then sighed. I stepped closer, pressing my chest against him. Nadir’s pensive eyes swept my face, then lingered on my lips before returning to my eyes.

“Thank you.”

Nadir dropped a kiss on my lips, then said, “Anytime, Goldie. I’m gonna head out. I just needed a second with you. Ry wants to kick it at 8Ball tonight, so I won’t be able to stay after closing.”

"Aw. I love that the guys are doing something special for him too. I like how the baby is making you and Ryder grow closer.”

Nadir chuckled. “Your ability to make everything sentimental is impressive.”

“You’ll see.”

Nipping my neck, Nadir sighed. “Call me later. I’ll wait up for you.”

“Okay,” I breathed when he kissed my neck.

“In case I don’t get to tell you later. You are talented, a visionary, and unstoppable. Brie & Bordeaux will be successful because you are the brain behind it. Later on, you can lay on my chest and lament about what you didn’t like. As for today, I want you to be present and experience every moment. Can you promise me that?” We locked eyes as I nodded.

His head tilted to the side and his eyebrow rose. I smiled. “I promise.”

Before parting ways, I kissed him like my life depended on it. Nadir’s ability to anticipate my needs left me speechless. My lips on his seemed to be the only way to convey my gratitude. I knew my message was received when he smiled against my mouth.

After Nadir left, I made my way to the tasting room to see how the charcuterie prep was coming along. I held on to Nadir’s words through the rest of prep and the first serving. Whenever I became overwhelmed or felt the onset of adrenaline, I inhaled slowly. On my exhale, I’d look around and ground myself. The weight of the moment was enough to bring me back to the present.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

“Ineed two orders of mofongo for table thirteen, please,” I called out while marking the table chart. Gia was beside me labeling the other tables as orders came through the system. My family was seated at table thirteen along with two camera operators. Heat filled my cheeks when I remembered I was miked and a cameraman was discreetly filming me from the serving window.

Moments after my call out, mofongo appeared. I took the saucers from Opal and exited the kitchen. The clinking of dishes and sizzling from the stoves had been replaced with laughter and jazz music. I whisked through the dining room, smiling at the patrons as I passed. Just like the first serving, the second serving was packed.

The tasting room was just as busy, with people enjoying charcuterie and wine. I didn’t know if it was word of mouth or the heavy traffic at opening, but we’d attracted more customers than we had tables. Most walk-ins were fine sitting at the bar. There were a few hiccups—servers dropping dishes, orders getting mixed up—but the team took everything in stride.

Raven’s eyes lit up as I neared the table. She was the one who’d requested more for the table. So far, my family had devoured every dish on the menu and two bottles of wine. Having everyone together and enjoying my food was a dream come true. I smiled at the remnants of our Sea Bass Bilbaína on the plate closest to me.

I picked it up and looked at Starling. His chiseled jawline was covered in stubble with sprinkles of gray. I smiled, remembering when he had only a mustache. The older he got, the more he looked like our mom, with her soft yet penetrating round eyes, full lips, and sienna colored skin. When his eyes met mine, I took the chance to get his opinion on everything.

“What’d you think?”

My brother’s facial expression revealed nothing as he mulled over his reply. “I enjoyed it. Is there cubanelle in the sauce?”

Before I could answer, Raven interjected, “You should’ve seen the way he analyzed it.” Everyone laughed when she tilted her head to the side, squinted, and examined her fork. “Okay, Anthony Bourdain,” she teased.