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Darcy shrugged, but Ariel saw a tinge of pink rise in the sous chef’s cheeks. “I’m just asking. Trying to get to know the locals. She’s the one who works at the…”
“Throwback Diner. She’s the one who makes the milkshakes that taste like heaven.”
“Cool. I’ll have to check it out.” The pink was definitely red now.
Interesting.
With a grin, Ariel made her way back through the restaurant, taking another moment to appreciate the sophisticated ambiance of the space. It was definitely a step up from the rustic and homey feel of the B and B, but she was proud of the fact that she had been able to create two distinct and complementary experiences within the same building. And everyone who was dining seemed to be having fun. Katie and Connor held their own in the dining room, where they bussed tables and checked on diners and jumped in wherever else they were needed.
All of the tables were full, but there was one thing missing—Miles.
Ariel had barely seen him all day, and the thought of spending another hour without him was unbearable. After his trip to the beach to check the boats, he’d been called back to the marina on some emergency—so much for taking off early. He had to make his second trip back to town today. He had texted about thirty minutes ago that he was on his way, but now, they had missed their chance for a cozy, pre-opening dinner together.
She couldn't just leave the restaurant in the middle of service.
An idea struck her—she sent Miles a text, asking him to come to the back door and meet her in the kitchen. Shehadpromised him the best table in the house.
Moments later, she was in the kitchen helping Darcy mix fresh salad dressing when there was a knock at the back door. Ariel's heart fluttered when she heard it. She hurried to let Miles in, and he wrapped her up in a warm embrace.
"I missed you," he whispered in her ear.
"I missed you too," she replied with a smile. She stood back to look at him. He was wearing a light blue, button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a pair of dark jeans. The shirt was tucked in neatly and he had a brown belt around his waist. On his feet, he was wearing brown leather boots that looked like they'd been well-loved. His hair was slightly messy, but it suited him well. He had a laid-back yet put-together vibe that matched the atmosphere of Leeside perfectly.
“You know, you don’t have to make me a thing, if that’s why you asked me to come to the kitchen. You have customers! I would rather pitch in. I can grill a mean steak.”
“Hush. I can do both. Now, sit.”
Miles took a seat at Ariel's dining room table while she quickly washed her hands and got to work in the kitchen. She was in the midst of opening night, but she didn't mind the added challenge of cooking for her boyfriend as well.
As she chopped vegetables and seasoned meat, Miles watched her with admiration. "You're amazing," he said. "The way you move in the kitchen is like a ballet."
Ariel blushed, grateful for his compliments. "I couldn't do it without Darcy," she said, nodding toward the young sous chef who was working alongside her. "He's taking on more responsibility than I even hired him for."
Miles turned to Darcy and smiled. "You're doing a great job," he said. "I'm impressed."
Darcy beamed at the praise, and Ariel swelled with pride for her team. Even with the added pressure of cooking for Miles, she was confident and at ease. Ariel's hands moved with precision and grace, a testament to her years of experience in the kitchen. She plated dishes with care and presented them to Miles, who eagerly dug in. At the same time, she swirled sauces and placed garnishes and handed off entrée orders to be taken out to her diners.
The entrée service was a success, and Ariel basked in the satisfaction of a job well done. She looked over at Miles, who was still savoring the flavors on his plate.
"This is amazing," he said, looking up at her. "You really are a culinary genius."
Ariel laughed, feeling grateful for Miles's presence in her life. She knew that she could always count on him to be her biggest supporter, in and out of the kitchen.
“Tell me your favorite dish,” she prompted.
“I think I could eat about a gallon of that tomato basil bisque,” he said. Then, starting to rise, he continued, “Here, let me help with my dishes. I can actually do them all if you wa—"
Just then, from the dining room, came a loud, melodic laugh. Miles froze, cutting off mid-sentence.
Ariel turned toward the sound, her heart beating faster in her chest. She didn't recognize the laugh, but something about it made her uneasy. Miles's eyes had gone wide and he was staring at the door, his hands gripping the dirty dishes that he had gathered from his meal. Ariel stepped over and placed a hand on his arm, hoping to ground him.
"What’s wrong?" she said softly.
Miles shook his head slowly, walking to the industrial-sized sink and setting down his plates and utensils with care. Ariel could see the tension that had crept into his shoulders, and she wondered silently what was going through his mind. His demeanor had changed so quickly—and all over a laugh?
“That laugh—Ariel, do you have someone out there named Emily? Blonde, pretty? About your age?”
Ariel had, in fact, seen her newest guest at a corner table just an hour ago. “Yes, she’s staying here, so I invited her to the opening. I didn’t quite catch why, but she booked an open-ended stay. I thought that was odd, but she seemed perfectly nice. She’s at table eight.”
