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He holds up his hands defensively but there's a smile ticking his lips. “Ok, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just saying. Besides, it's not a bad thing. It’s good that you’re getting out there and allowing yourself a chance to be sweet on a little lady."
I snort. So I can end up like him, mourning a dead wife years after she's gone and being unable to even date another woman? No, thanks.
“I just hope she’s strong enough to handle you,” he continues chattering because the man must like the sound of his own voice. “Because you can be a pill. I know I was too at first, but then Hannah taught me that sometimes I just need to take a deep breath and take it one step at a time. You know, it's only thanks to her that I opened up the restaurant in the first place. Because if not, I would have thought it was a waste of time....”
At the mention of his restaurant, a thought suddenly occurs to me, and I nearly kick myself for not thinking about it earlier.
“Wait, y’all still have that mom-and-pop breakfast spot out in Easterton Street, right?” I ask.
He nods and seems a little surprised. “Well, it's a little more than a breakfast spot now, but yeah. Why?”
"How is business?” I ask.
Now he looks even more doubtful, but he still answers. “Growing. Thinking of introducing some new things to the menu to take advantage of that, but now we’ll have to hire extra help.”
Perfect. “You in the market for a new chef?”
He shrugs. “Not really, but I don't mind taking on another person if they're good. Why? You got someone in mind?”
I nod, bending to mark the yard, before I stand. “Cooks like a fucking angel.”
His eyebrows go into his forehead. “That’s a high honor.”
“And I mean it,” I say when I go down. “Seriously. You should try one of her samples, and if you don't pass out in ecstasy then I'm a liar with rubber pants, like my dad used to say."
He shakes his head and smirks. "Seriously, dude. You and those phrases just crack me up."
"Look, do you want to or not? Let me know because I think TT's is also hiring."
They're not but Jonah takes the bait.
He watches me for a long time, his eyes thoughtful. Then he nods. “Sure. Send her over next week. This week is already chock full of stuff and I have to travel. I’ll check her out when I get back.”
“Ok,” I try to sound noncommittal, even if I feel an inexplicable pleasure at the fact that I’m going to tell Delilah that I may have gotten her an interview.
After I go back to her house for dinner, and tell her the news, she squeals and jumps into my arms. And though it takes everything for me not to spin her over and take her on the table again, I somehow resist the urge.
**
About a week later, I'm driving a quiet Delilah to the interview. Luckily, Jonah's restaurant isn't too far from the cottage using the backroads.
“Relax,” I say because I can feel Delilah's nerves bubbling up from the passenger seat.
She glances at me with one fingertip in her mouth in the middle of biting it. Her eyes are wide with anxiety, a question in her gaze.
“I can hear you overthinking,” I say.
"I know, but I can't help it.” She shakes her head and swallows. “It’s just that this is my first interview in a long time.”
“What about your last job?” I ask. “You must have had an interview to get it."
She smiles wryly. “Not really an interview. More like my ex-roommate found me crying in the bathroom and then hired me on the spot. I thought she probably just felt sorry for me.”
“Not sorry enough not to throw you out,” I say, feeling unreasonably angry at this person I don't know. "What happened with that anyway? Why did she go crazy on you?”
She sighs and shrugs, blinking slowly. “It’s a whole stupid drama over nothing. Essentially, her ex-boyfriend asked me out and I said yes and went out on a date with him. But at the time, I didn’t know he was her boyfriend and then she found out about it and was pissed about it.”
"And then she threw you out?” I ask. "Just because of that?"
