He curls his lip up. “Does anyone even like those?”
“Um, yes. They were a huge hit at Lore, and they’re easy to make in bulk. We can dress them up with bacon, balsamic, and seasoning.”
“Whatever,” he says. “This is your gig, not mine.”
I huff. It’s not the first time he’s said this, and it irritates me more and more each time because thisisn’tmy gig. This is his business. I’m just helping him make the kitchen something ... well, way better than what they currently have.
It’s telling that we’ve never had to say to customers the kitchen is closed, because nobody has tried to order anything in days. Truthfully, they probably should have done this years ago. It’s been a missed opportunity for them, and it makes me all the more nervous to reveal the new and improved menu to patrons. While the bar might be low, I still want to wow them.
“What?” Ezra asks, not looking at me.
He can’t do it, either, and even thoughI’mavoiding him, I’m annoyed he’s avoiding me too.
We’re adults, for crying out loud. Surely we can move on from one little mistake.
I throw my pencil down, then spin my chair to face him.
He pauses for only a moment before he continues on with whatever it is he’s doing. I’m honestly not sure it’s even anything. He hasn’t moved in what feels like hours. An alarm on his phone has gone off a few times, but he silences it each time and keeps pretending to work.
That’s how we sit for several moments—me staring at him and Ezra acting as if I’m not.
Then finally, he drops his pen and turns to me. His face is hard, but if I look close enough, I can see the worry in his green gaze.
“What can I do for you, Sunny?”
These are obviously not the first words he’s spoken to me today, though it certainly feels like it, because they just might be the realest. Everything else has been strictly business. This is personal.
“Why do you call me that?”
“Call you what?”
“Sunny. I’m not a ray of sunshine. I know that. I’m stubborn to a fault most of the time. There’s not much that’s ‘sunny’ about me.”
The corners of his lips twitch. “Maybe, but you’re ...” He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. You’re something.”
“Something?What the hell does that mean?”
He sighs. “I don’t know. You, Summer. You’reyou. And I think you’re sunny.”
Italmostsounds like a compliment, and I want to ask him to elaborate, but I’m too afraid he’s going to clam up and stop talking to me again, so I don’t.
“Was that all you needed?”
“No.”
I want to know why you freaked out after I kissed you.
But I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud.
So much for acting like an adult in this situation.
“I want your opinion on the menu.”
“But that’s your area. That’s the reason we’re bringing you on for this project.”
“Right. I know. But these are your customers. You’re the one who knows them. What do you think they’ll like?”
He sighs, and I roll my eyes, spinning my chair back around.
