FULL NOVELXO Chapter 26
Back in the kitchen, I notice Allie slipping through the door, her usual spark dimmed. Something’s off. I keep my voice even as I ask her, ‘Is everything okay?’
She offers me a weak smile. ‘Yeah, everything’s fine.’ It doesn’t take a genius to see she’s far from fine, but I decide not to press her. Now’s not the time.
‘Let’s focus on finishing up that dessert,’ I say instead, shifting our attention to the night’s culinary finale.
The waitstaff buzzes in just then, ready for their next move. I quickly brief them, ‘Get espressos ready and see if our guests need anything before we serve dessert.’
Once they scatter to attend to the guests, I find a moment to close the distance between Allie and me. Taking her hand gently, I raise it to my lips and kiss her knuckles, trying to bring some lightness back. ‘Can’t wait to have you all to myself tonight,’ I murmur, hoping to see a genuine smile.
She smiles back, but it’s forced, a shadow still lurking behind her gaze. ‘Me too,’ she says, but the enthusiasm isn’t there.
Her reaction causes a knot in my stomach. Whatever’s weighing on her, it’s serious. I squeeze her hand, conveying silent support. Right now, I have to respect her space, but later, I need to find out what’s really going on. We need to be open with each other, especially if we’re going to make this work, not only in the kitchen but beyond it.
As the waitstaff takes the desserts out, I stand by the serving window, keeping an eye on the room as each dish lands on the tables. The reaction from Luca’s table is immediate; even from my standpoint, I can tell they’re impressed.
The evening stretches on, the clock ticking past the usual closing hours, but the atmosphere at the party remains buoyant, fueled by good food and better wine. The waitstaff hovers close by; their service has been impeccable, and as the night finally begins to wind down, their efforts are rewarded—each one grinning as they pocket hefty tips from the appreciative guests.
I step out of the kitchen to see the last of the men preparing to leave. Their praise is effusive as they thank me, some even pulling out wads of cash, offering me a little something extra. I hold up a hand, stopping them with a friendly but firm shake of my head.
‘Thank you, but Mr. Amato has already taken care of everything,’ I tell them.
I walk them to the door, the cool night air a welcome relief after the heat of the kitchen. ‘We’ll see you all next month,’ I say.
Luca extends his hand with a warm smile. ‘Thank you, Patrick, for an outstanding evening. My assistant will be in touch with you later this week to iron out the details for our next meeting.’
I grasp his hand firmly, matching his smile with my own. ‘It was my pleasure, Luca. We look forward to having you back.’
As the last of the guests filter out, Donnie lingers behind, swaggering over with a grin that’s too arrogant to be friendly. His speech is slightly slurred, the alcohol loosening his tongue more than usual. He leans in a bit too close, his breath heavy with the scent of expensive wine.
‘Hey, Patrick, that sexy blonde chef of yours,’ he starts, his voice a low drawl, ‘she’s something else. I’d like to get to know her better.’
I feel my jaw tighten, the muscles in my neck tensing up. On the surface, I keep my expression smooth, offering him a polite smile. ‘Actually, she and I are together,’ I reply, my tone even but firm, hoping to cut this line of conversation short.
Donnie bursts into laughter, a loud, obnoxious sound that echoes slightly in the empty dining room. He claps me on the back with a bit too much force. ‘Good for you, man! But hey,’ he adds with a wink, ‘if things ever go south, you let me know. I’d take a shot at that.’
I stiffen under the weight of Donnie’s hand on my back, his laughter grating on my nerves. As he insinuates his interest in Allie, my patience snaps.
‘Watch it, kid,’ I say sharply, my tone low and firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. ‘You will respect her when you’re talking to me. She’s not up for discussion or for grabs.’
Donnie pauses, his smile faltering as he meets my glare. He straightens up, the cockiness in his posture receding slightly. ‘All right,’ he says with a dismissive wave, but his eyes harden. ‘Just saying, a guy like me? I don’t need to wait for permission. I can have my pick of the city, taken or not.’
His words hang in the air, a veiled threat wrapped in a smirk. I hold his gaze, unyielding. ‘Let’s keep it professional, Donnie. That’s best for everyone.”
“Careful, Chef,” he says. “Talking like that to a man like me is an easy way to end up pureed.”
I want to strangle the little prick on the spot, but one of us is going to have to be the bigger man if I don’t want this night to end in a fistfight with a Mafia boss’s son.
“Good night, Donnie.”
He finally heads out, leaving a trail of chuckles behind him. I lock the door with more force than necessary, the click of the deadbolt sounding overly loud in the quiet restaurant.
Alone, I lean against the door, taking a moment to gather myself. Disgust curdles in my stomach—not just at Donnie’s words but at the reminder of the type of individuals my business now entertains. The decision comes easily; it’s one I should have made earlier.
Shaking my head, I make my way back to the kitchen to oversee the final cleanup.
As I step through the doors, I notice Allie already elbow-deep in the post-service cleanup. There’s a focus in her movements, a determination that’s palpable even from across the room.
‘Hey,’ I call out, crossing the kitchen to stand beside her. ‘You were amazing tonight, you know that?’
She glances up at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ‘Thanks, Chef,’ she replies, her voice carrying a hint of weariness. ‘It was a pleasure working with you, as always.’
I feel a pang of disappointment at her subdued response. Normally, this would be the time for banter, for playful flirtation to cap off a successful evening. But tonight, the air between us feels heavy with unspoken tension.
I open my mouth to say something more, to inject a bit of levity into the moment, but a glance at Allie’s expression gives me pause. There’s a distance in her eyes, a barrier that tells me now’s not the time for idle chatter.
Instead, I nod in understanding, giving her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before turning to join her in the cleanup. As we work side by side, the clatter of dishes and the swish of water filling the silence, I can’t shake the nagging feeling that something’s bothering her.
We should be celebrating tonight’s success, reveling in the buzz of a job well done, but Allie’s demeanor tells me otherwise.
I steal glances at her whenever I can, trying to decipher the thoughts swirling behind those expressive eyes. But she remains guarded, her focus locked on the task at hand.
As we wrap up the cleanup, Allie breaks the silence. ‘You know, you’re right on the verge of getting that star,’ she says casually.
I pause, my hands still. ‘Star?’ I ask, even though I know exactly what she’s hinting at.
She flashes a knowing smile over her shoulder. ‘Michelin,’ she clarifies, her tone playful yet serious. ‘It’s pretty rare for a new place like Savor to be in the running for a Michelin Star so quickly, but then, Savor isn’t exactly commonplace, is it?’
Her words strike a chord. Moved by her confidence in me, I close the distance between us.
‘I don’t want it to be just me earning that star, Allie,’ I tell her firmly, taking her hand to stop her diligent scrubbing. ‘I want it to be us. We’re in this together.’
The warmth in her smile tells me she gets it. We’re a team, in and out of the kitchen. I lean in and kiss her, sealing our shared commitment and dreams.
With the kitchen finally spotless and our work done, we walk out together.
We drive back to my place in quiet comfort, still riding the high from tonight’s success. Once inside, I head to the fridge to grab a bottle of champagne, eager to keep the celebratory vibe going. ‘How about something to celebrate?’ I ask, reaching for the glasses.
Her reaction is quick. ‘Actually, I’d rather not have alcohol tonight,’ she says, her voice a bit hesitant.
I nod and switch gears. ‘Sparkling cider, then?’ I suggest, and she agrees more warmly this time. I pour us each a glass, and we toast to the future—ours and Savor’s.
We sip the cider in silence before I lean in for a kiss, caught up in the moment. She pulls back sooner than expected, an apologetic smile on her face. ‘I might not be up for much tonight; I’m pretty tired,’ she admits.
I sense there’s more she’s not saying, but I let it be. Instead, I suggest, ‘Let’s just relax then,’ and she seems relieved.
We head to bed, and she curls up next to me. I wrap my arms around her, comforted by her presence. Even though she’s holding something back, I’m content just to have her here. Holding her close, I think about the future that awaits us.
As sleep edges in, I find myself smiling.