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“Yes,” I sighed happily. “I'm in.”
“Good.”
Jay’s hands slid past my hips now, wrapping around to cup my ass. He squeezed me through my yoga pants with all the usual force and enthusiasm, as the lower part of his body melded into mine.
“Now I was going to take you out to lunch between classes,” he said, glancing up at the clock. “And maybe there’s still time for that.”
His boy-next-door smile turned wickedly sexy.
“But before we do, maybe you should show me that back room...”
Fifty-One
LUCA
“So do you want to tell her, or should I?”
Tyler rested with his elbows on the counter, his chin in his hands. He was covered in flour and Parmesan and who the hell knew what else. Under normal circumstances he wore these ingredients as badges of honor — the inevitable aftermath of a long, busy day. But today, watching my friend brush oregano from his beard, he just seemed annoyed and frustrated by them.
“Let me break the news to her,” I urged again. “After the events of today, you could use some space I’m sure—”
“What I could use is a good lawyer,” Tyler growled angrily. “Or a city council member in my pocket. Or the fucking mayor, for shit’s sake.”
He slapped the counter and stepped back, letting his hands screw into two tights fists. It wasn’t a good look for him.
“Or better yet, a baseball bat…”
I stopped sweeping the floor just long enough to lay a reassuring hand on my friend’s shoulder. “Easy, bud.”
“Easy?” he spat. “We’ve been open for less than two days, and we’re already shut down again! And you want me to take iteasy?”
It wasn’t an ideal situation, I’d give him that. The restaurant had been booming at just under full capacity when the board of health had come in for a ‘spot check.’ Lo and behold they found non-conforming plumbing issues. Apparently the existing waste management system was ‘woefully small’ for a restaurant this size, and until we fixed it, well…
“Look, we’ll get this taken care of,” I consoled Tyler. “Just like that last thing.”
“And just like the next thing?” he blurted.
One look in his eyes told me there was no winning this war. Wisely, I decided to shut my mouth.
“Look, if it’s not the board of health it’ll be the sanitation department refusing to empty my dumpsters because this asshole bought and paid for them outright,” Tyler growled. “Or next time it’ll be OSHA telling me to shut down the parking lot. Or the development services division telling me my restaurant is now zoned ‘residential.’”
“Eventually he’s going to get bored,” I told Tyler. “Especially since he’s not getting what he wants.”
“Think so?”
“Of course,” I shrugged. “I mean, it can’t go on forever.”
“No, probably not,” Tyler agreed.
“There you go.”
“Or, on the flip side, maybe the asshole spends enough money to become the fucking mayor.”
“Tyler—”
He untied his apron and chucked it halfway across the dining room in frustration. “Why, you don’t think he’ll do it?”
I went silent again. It seemed the best choice of action.
