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What the hell? “Why is that so—”
“What the fuck is this I’m seeing?” At the sound of Macklin’s voice, Jack and I looked over at him. He was grinning, and he was surprised. “So you two know each other.”
I smiled politely and let Jack do the talking. They hugged and expressed it’d been a while since they’d met up.
“It wouldn’t kill you to come see me in New York,” Jack pointed out.
“It just might. You know my thoughts on that city.” Macklin smacked a kiss to Jack’s cheek and draped an arm around his shoulders. Then he faced me. “How are you, gorgeous? How do you know my most stubborn student ever?”
I chuckled. To hear Jack had been a stubborn student to tutor was no surprise at all. “I’m very well, thank you. Jack happens to be my ex-wife’s nephew.”
“Oof. Hot.” Macklin reacted pretty much how I’d anticipated.
“How are you?” I asked. “Tate told me you had a bit of drama at the auction.”
I hadn’t been able to attend the auction they’d put together to raise money for the restoration of the house in Mclean, but Tate had given me a play-by-play for seemingly every minute. Macklin, who had given away a date, hadn’t considered that the highest bidder might turn out to be his ex-husband.
“Would you look at that—I think your table’s ready.” Macklin was suddenly very keen on getting us seated, and Jack and I exchanged a grin and humored him. I supposed I could get my answers through Tate another time. Macklin grabbed two menus from the host stand and handed them to us. “Just follow Duane upstairs. You’re in the Caribbean room. Jack—text me tomorrow. Unless we’re losing you to monogamy, we gotta do an orgy event next time you’re in town.”
Please sign me up for that.
Judging by the amused expression on Jack’s face, he could read my mind.
“We’ll work something out,” he chuckled. “It was good seeing you again, buddy.”
“You too, hon. Enjoy your date, you two.” Macklin winked at me before he was off again.
Enjoy your date.
Dangerous territory.
Was this a date?
I was clearly going to have to come here more often. The food was amazing. With an eclectic menu like Macklin’s, it could’ve gone in the opposite direction; he offered meals that went with the décor of the various dining rooms, themes ranging from royalty and Hollywood’s Golden Era to Caribbean and French countryside.
According to the menu, Macklin invited young, creative chefs to help him put together a menu every quarter. And I did remember hearing a story of how he’d once been told by a chef at a culinary institute that he had no future in the restaurant business.
“Brilliant marketing move,” Jack had mentioned. “Don’t get me wrong, I know Mack invites young minds because he’s a terrific person, but think about it. The new chefs get experience at a place often raved about in local papers and tourist guides, and Macklin gets exposure on social media for the initiative, not just from food bloggers and whatnot, but from the chefs’ social circles as well.”
That line of thought shifted my focus to him. So while I dined on a row of fantastic sliders named after old Hollywood actors, I had to pick Jack’s brain.
“I admit, I’m a little surprised you never went into marketing or sales,” I said. “You’ve always had a way of captivating people.”
Not entirely unlike this Ingrid Bergman slider with sliced meatballs, caramelized onion, a light gravy, and mozzarella. The mozzarella an addition as delicious as it was funny.
“To be fair, I get both of that in what I do now,” Jack replied. His island-inspired seafood platter looked wonderful too. “I guess I don’t want to be on all the time. You know what I mean? People in sales at my level have to be available twenty-four seven, and they forget who they are. Hell, I do too sometimes.”
I’d seen some signs of that, yes. Maybe because I was finally spending more time with him. He seemed to struggle at times with shifts in the atmosphere. At Ocean Prime, he’d been in his element. That was the type of restaurant he brought potential clients to. Or whatever one called businesspeople in future mergers.
Mergers and acquisitions could be the result of absolute triumph and success, as well as the defeat and failure of standing alone with your company. Jack knew how to handle workers and bosses on both sides of that coin, I was sure. But at some point, he had to clock out, and I wasn’t certain I’d met that version of him yet.
I wanted to.
“Do you remember when Samantha and I visited you in New York?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I remember waking up in the middle of the night,” I said. “And there you were in the living room, watching the news, sifting through your library of video games, scarfing down a Quarter Pounder. It was a good look on you. You were at ease.”
