Page 72 of Knot Playing Fair 2

Weaving my way to their corner, with a couple of stops to speak to other diners, I came to a halt in front of Zalen and Emiel. “Fancy meeting you here,” I quipped, fighting a flash of disappointment that Luca and Byron weren’t here. “Did the other two have to cancel?”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, my brain processed the presence of four water glasses and sets of flatware.

“Hello, Mia,” Zalen said. “No, they’re here, too. They just stepped away for a minute.”

“Hi, Mia,” Emiel offered. “Nat said people really like my cake. You holding a couple of pieces for me and Luca?”

“Always,” I told him with a grin, and was rewarded by his brilliant, unexpected smile in return.

“The crowd tonight looks really good,” Zalen said. “I take it the reopening is a success?”

I snorted and lowered my voice. “For god’s sake, don’t jinx it! But, yes, things are going amazingly well.”

“I don’t suppose your social media guru would be interested in freelancing for a youth center on the side?” Zalen asked, in the tone of someone who was joking, but not really.

I pointed a warning finger at his face. “Don’t you try to poach my talent, Zalen Price.”

Emiel chuckled, and that, right there, was worth the price of admission.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zalen said, with wide-eyed innocence not quite covering an amused glint in his expression. He sobered. “I expect the others will be back shortly. I think they just went to the restroom.”

The realities of a busy service reasserted themselves, and I sighed. “Sorry, but I have to get back to the kitchen. Tell them I said hi and thanks for coming. I’ll try to get away again if things slow down, okay?”

“Of course,” Zalen replied easily. “Go make great food. We’ll pass on the message.”

I gave them a final smile of pure happiness and hurried back to the kitchen. ‘Lull’ did not seem to be the appropriate word anymore, and it took a few minutes of concentrated work to get things back on track.

The rest of the evening passed the same way, without so much as a moment’s break from the crush of diners. That was my excuse for why it took me longer than it should have to notice that Nat had stopped checking in.

Which was odd.

“Hey.” I flagged down Candy when she stopped at the pass-through window to drop off a new ticket. “Where’s Nat?”

She blinked at me. “Uh, I haven’t seen him for a while. Did he go back to the office to work, maybe?”

Something about that felt wrong, but I shrugged uncertainly. “Maybe so. Send him my way if you see him, all right?”

“Will do, boss,” she said, with a sloppy salute. “Oh, and table five asked for more bread.”

“More bread, got it,” I replied absently. “Thanks, Candy. It’s going great tonight.”

She smiled brightly. “Sure is! Bella Vita isn’t going to know what hit them.”

I forced myself to focus on the service and ignore the nebulous discomfort swirling in my stomach. For all I knew, someone at Zalen’s table—and bysomeone, I meantByron—could have said something to upset Nat, and he’d retreated to his office to lick his wounds and have a sulk. But try as I might, I couldn’t make that picture fit.

Still, there was nothing for it, except to do my job and trust our employees to do theirs, as well. The rest of the evening service dragged by, much of the joy of the successful reopening falling by the wayside as Nat failed to reappear.

I could have sent someone to look for him. But for one thing, it was hard to spare anyone with the place packed to the rafters. And for another, I was starting to get pissed. I’d thought Nat and I had done pretty well at reestablishing our professional relationship, if not our personal one. But if he was going to blow off the restaurant’s most important night like this, he clearly wasn’t as invested in our success as I was.

By the time things finally started winding down, I was fuming. I made an attempt to keep it from showing, but Shani kept throwing me worried looks that said I wasn’t completely succeeding. When the last customer left, she darted out and returned a minute later.

“He’s not in his office, Mia,” she said quietly, out of hearing range of the other staff members busily cleaning up for close. “I think he must have left. Maybe he got sick?”

The anger that had been simmering in my chest came to a boil. Very deliberately, I pulled out my phone, powered it on, and checked messages.

Nothing.

Or, rather, nothing from Nat. There was a terse message from Zalen.

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