Page 83 of Love on the Rocks
I slid onto the barstool and placed a plastic bag with the squid I’d brought for dinner on the table. She peeked inside and her lips pinched together. “Did you catch this?”
“No, Panos did. If you remember, I was still in your bed this morning at nine. Too late to go out,” I reminded her, hoping memories of our lazy morning in bed would calm her down. No such luck.
“They’re awfully small. I don’t know how I’ll be able to feed everyone,” she complained, scouring the countertop with a sponge to get rid of the water stain I’d left with my glass.
“Everyone?” I asked, annoyed that I wouldn’t have her to myself. I had imagined another leisurely night alone, foolingaround as we cooked, then making out on the couch, trying out her toys again like we had the other night. Maybe reading more of Angelos’s adventures.
“I invited Teresa and Yiannis. You might as well invite Panos too, since he did all the hard work.”
“Will you kick them out by midnight?”
“Why? Will your dick turn into a pumpkin if I don’t?”
I frowned. “Dare I ask what or who has put you in such a foul mood?”
She stopped scrubbing the counter and sighed, tossing the sponge into the sink. “I just found out that I’m no longer going to be featured inTastemakersmagazine’s ‘30 Under 30’ feature. The photo shoot is canceled.”
“A 30 Under 30 list? You know those things are bullshit, right?” I scoffed.
She glared at me. “It might be bullshit to you, but in the restaurant industry, those lists can help launch your career. I need all the publicity I can get to make sure I keep this job and don’t end up on the line again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve already been passed over at my old restaurant by this other chef, Roman.” She said his name like she was going to vomit. “He was always rubbing it in my face. Then he got the job in Switzerland and now—he’s going to be featured inTastemakers! Apparently, a sex tape with him and some actress was leaked online last week, and his name is on everyone’s lips.” She wrinkled her adorable little nose. “So Gaz—my ex . . . my boss—decided to capitalize on the publicity. He’s doing this on purpose, just to fuck with me.”
My hand curled into a fist under the table. That fucking guy. She never mentioned him to me and I never asked. I didn’t want to imagine him with his sleazy hands anywhere near here, let alone on her.
“And . . .” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “It might be my last chance to be on that list. I’m going to be thirty in less than a year!”
“Good God, the horror!” I laughed and pulled her against me. She buried her head against my shoulder.
“This probably all sounds insignificant to you, and I know it is, especially considering what other people are going through. It’s just something I’ve always wanted.”
I bit my cheek. “You’ve always wanted to be on a 30 Under 30 list?”
“It sounds silly when you say it like that, but yeah, I’m someone who needs external validation, okay? I like collecting gold stars. I wanted to prove to everyone that I’m talented and successful.”
“Who do you need to prove that to? As someone who is a few years past any hope of getting on a 30 Under 30 list—and therefore much older and wiser than you—I can assure you: You don’t have to accomplish things by a certain age.”
“Says the multilingual doctor, humanitarian, sex god.”
“Sex god?” I rubbed my hands down her arms.
“You’re also bullheaded killjoy sometimes too.” She pushed me away. She did that whenever things got too real, I’d noticed. It was a kind of protective mechanism that I wondered if she even knew she did it. Probably not.
“Like tonight,” she continued. “You’re going to try to convince me not to invite the others over because we’d have a better time by ourselves.”
“You read my mind.”
“Yes, you’re terribly predictable.”
I brought my hand to my heart. “Ouch, that hurt.”
She had effectively changed the subject, but I still felt like there was something else under the surface that she wasn’t telling me.
That makes of two of us.
I thought back to my earlier conversation with Nathalie. I couldn’t tell Callie about it now. Not when she was feeling this vulnerable. Maybe tomorrow.
