Page 54 of Long Shot

“Is he the jerkwad who threw a beer bottle at you?” Cade asks.

Others around us gasp.

I make a face. “Yes.”

“I knew he was an asshole!” Carrie says.

“I ducked,” I add. “He didn’t hit me with it.”

“Good to know,” Cade growls.

“The things I could tell you about him,” I murmur. “But I won’t. Anyway, I came back from France, and got another job as a sous-chef.”

“That’s when you won the award?”

“No. From there, I moved on to a position as chef du cuisine.”

“That’s the boss chef?” Cade asks.

I smile. “Yes. I created the specials, ordered the food, basically managed the kitchen. So that’s how I came to be a chef.”

“You must be very talented,” Hayden says.

“She is,” Sid says.

I turn my gaze on him with surprise. “Thank you, Sid.”

“You are. You blew me away with the stuff you did, and I’ve already learned a lot from you.”

That’s nice of him to say, since I kind of took his job away from him. But in the days I’ve been working more in the kitchen, he seems more relieved than resentful. Sure, a few times he questioned me, when I suggested a jalapeño pineapple salsa, or ahi tuna enchiladas. But mostly he seems happy to go along with what I want to do. And truthfully? He keeps me grounded. This is a popular, fun tequila bar, not a pretentious bullshit foodie place where dishes are embellished with truffles, caviar, or kombu.

I also need to keep in mind that we have to limit the number of items on the menu. We don’t have a huge space for prep and cooking, or storage, for that matter. And my bosses have made it clear they want the food to be good, but they aren’t trying to run a Michelin-starred restaurant here.

Beck has lined up tequila glasses along the bar, and Marco makes a big show of opening the bottle. Then he pours shots for everyone.

Beck holds up a hand. “Before we drink, we want to make a speech.”

“No, we don’t,” Cade mutters.

I hide a smile.

Beck ignores him. “Thank you to everyone here for helping us make Conquistadors a success. We’ve had some ups and downs and of course some challenges along the way, but we’re doing well and becoming known as a destination in San Diego. Once we get the new menu up I’m sure we’ll do even better.” He winks at me. “We couldn’t do it without all of you, right, guys?” He looks to Marco and Cade.

“Right.” They both lift their glasses in a toast.

“Okay, let’s taste this sweet, sweet blue agave nectar,” Beck finishes. He holds up his glass to the light, and everyone does the same.

After sniffing and tasting, Carrie says, “Wow. Even I can tell it’s really good.” She surveys Marco. His eyes are closed as if he’s in a trance. “You okay there, honey?”

Marco opens one eye. “I’m in heaven.”

“Hmm. I might be jealous of a tequila,” Carrie says.

“You’re my first love,” Marco replies. “But this is a close second.”

I hold up my glass, admiring the dark amber color. I swirl the glass and regard the “string of pearls”—the liquid formed inside the glass. Then I carefully sniff, enjoying faint burnt sugar and cinnamon on the nose, and sip. I close my eyes and hold the tequila on my tongue for a few seconds before swallowing. “Wow.” I open my eyes to find Cade staring at me. The scorching, intense expression in his eyes makes my heart bump in an uneven rhythm.

12

---