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I wanted more time with her.
To sit down and just talk to her. Hear about her life, how she started her business and what she’s done in her life since college. Is she seeing anyone? I did a ring check and didn’t see a ring, so unless she’s got a boyfriend…
I toss my pen onto my desk, leaning back in my high-back black leather desk chair.
Shoving my hand through my hair, I let out a huff of laughter.
“The fuck? This day.”
When I woke up this morning, did I think I would accept an offer to work with a matchmaker? Hell no. Did I think I would find out my grandmother’s best friend was the grandmother of the girl who got away in college? Nope again. The last thing I ever expected from this day was a face-to-face with said girl, who is by all means a fucking sexy as hell woman now.
I blink toward my computer and realize I’ve accomplished next to nothing since my run-in with Layla. I had a call but wrapped it up quicker than expected. My second meeting this afternoon was moved to tomorrow and now I can’t focus on the other fifty items on my task list.
Maybe I need a change of scenery.
Checking in on how things are going on in the kitchen is always a good distraction, so I push out of my chair and head to where all the real action happens.
A few minutes later, I find myself walking through the doors of the state of the art LACE kitchen. I spot Travis standing next to his new sous chef, Kim, going through some papers.
Travis spots me and jerks his head in greeting and says he’ll be just a minute.
I lean against the counter and take in the kitchen I’m damn proud of. When Travis and I first came up with the concept for LACE, I already had experience with starting a restaurant thanks to the years I’d put in learning the family business. Travis fought hard for this kitchen and I’m glad I was able to get all the bells and whistles added. In layman’s terms, the asshole wanted all the fucking upgrades he could get right off the bat.
I could tell my father wanted to talk me out of partnering up with a friend and allowing him to make so many requests, but Travis is good people and I knew LACE was going to be a success.
“How was the Sabertooth?” Travis chokes out on a laugh.
“Fuck you,” I tell him as I follow him back to his small office off to the side of the kitchen.
He just chuckles.
“You cooking tonight?” I ask him, changing the subject.
“I’m off tonight. You know, trying to find that work-life balance that dick of an owner is forcing on me.”
“Look, man. LACE has been open for three months now and you’ve taken one day off. You cannot be here from ten to midnight every damn day. For three months, man.”
He groans as he takes a seat on the couch I know he sleeps on several nights a week. Taking a seat on the chair to his left, I shake my head at him.
“You’re one of the best chefs I know, and I know a lot. The last thing I want is you driving yourself into the ground because you don’t ever leave this place.”
“I know, man. You’re not wrong.” He lets out a sigh.
“What time are you leaving tonight?”
“I’m out of here by six thirty,” he says.
“Five thirty,” I counter.
“Six fifteen.” He glares back at me.
“Five forty-five, you asshat.” I grin.
“Six and that’s my final offer.” He huffs.
“I’ll take it. Now was that so hard?”
“I bet it wasn’t hard on that lunch date.” He smirks.
