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“Thanks, man, for letting me skip the line. I have to get back to my booth quickly.”

“No problem,” I assured him. “I figured as much.”

While I was preparing his food, he asked me about my recent trips.

“It’s crazy where you get to go. Should we be grateful that you even honor us with a visit?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

Laughing, I stacked his veggie burger. “Stop it! Yes, I get to see Paris, London, and Hamburg!” I shrugged. “But you know what, I get to experience the stress in Michelin-star restaurants and their hardheaded head chefs firsthand too. And guess what, I am not missing that part one bit!” I winked at him over my shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll never go back to the whole circus.”

Inside, I growled in frustration. Nerve-racking shifts at different restaurants all over Europe had one great advantage to them. There I hadn’t had the time to think about relationships. Focus, focus, focus. I had had one goal since I was accepted to the Institute for Culinary Education in New York: to become a master chef. The excruciating hours, the fights, the stress, the whims of the bosses, the frustration had extinguished any interest in a relationship. I had been proud that no relationship crises had ever distracted me from work.

“Does this mean, you’ve finally made up your mind? Fast food creator in a food truck, it is?”

I turned to Ash, who was studying me, and forced myself out of my spiral of thoughts. I nodded thoughtfully.

“Nothing has been decided yet. The reason I’m here now is that I followed the advice of the head chef at my last stop in Europe.”

“What did he tell you?”

I hesitated as I wrapped the burger in paper. “He’s a big advocate of self-discovery. Michelin-star cuisine can be fulfilling for some, but for others it’s plain and simple torture. In the beginning, I thought it was what I wanted. But . . . ” How could I best summarize my circling thoughts from the last six months? Since no one had ever asked me about it, Ash’s direct approach overwhelmed me. But I didn’t want to shy away from an answer. If I couldn’t talk openly in front of friends, then who could I talk to? “My colleagues shook their heads, when they heard about my plans and snatched top positions in the world’s leading restaurants. But I still took a step back from the whole circus and rented a food truck to find my true calling. You know, for the first time in years, I’m in contact with real people—people who aren’t my colleagues in the kitchen. But guests, whom I can watch as they enjoy my food. Or don’t.” We both laughed.

But the thought sobered me up. I hadn’t just watched customers; I’d seen Shane.

Never in my life had I messed up a pavlova. I could whip sweet egg whites into cake no matter where I was in the world. But what Shane had done to me completely overwhelmed me.

“You’ll find your way,” Ash replied. “I’m sure of it. Until then, I’m glad you found your way home.”

His words echoed strangely inside me. Professionally, I would land on my feet. Everything else was written in the stars for me.

I closed the door behind him and turned my attention to the next customer in line. I immediately fell back into our routine. I nodded gratefully to Sway, who had kept the shop running during my chat with Ash.

I glanced over at the customers in front of the truck again and immediately spotted Shane. I noticed a guy putting his arm around Shane.

A handsome, well-built guy. Shane’s eyes sparkled and his blond surfer locks fell into his face.

“And a Coke.” The customer I was serving pulled me out of my useless thoughts with his request.

“I only have water. Drinks are served over there.” I pointed to the bar at the other end of the party area.

“Damn!” Next to me, Sway blurted. She stared at the line in front of us.

“What’s up?”

She shook her head, lips pressed together. “My little sister is stuck at a party where a guy is making her uncomfortable. She called me to pick her up.”

I sucked in my breath as my gaze wandered off to the people in front of the food truck. Nevertheless, I immediately waved her off.

“Go! Go get her. And don’t wait around. That’s more important. I can handle this!”

And I would manage! I had handled worse kitchen disasters before.

As I picked up the pace, kept up the small talk with my customers, and noted with satisfaction how my supplies were dwindling, Shane still managed to creep into my thoughts.

No matter what his looks, what his friends looked like, he had eyes in his head and had never said a word about my untrained body. Thinking about our nights together made me dizzy.

No, Shane didn’t seem to mind that my arms were too thin and my stomach too round. Too thin and too round for the gay dating market, at least.

Because despite all his passion, Shane had never said a word about commitment.