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“Your dad’s a good bloke.”
“I know he is. He cares. He always has done. Never even batted an eyelid when I came out. Tried to support me in everything I did. He worries about me all the time. I’m thirty, and he still wants to parent me.”
“Did I ever tell you about my dad?”
I shook my head, then startled when a door slammed, and I could suddenly hear Mark’s voice. And Ben’s.
Finn laughed. “Breakfast.”
“I have things to do,” I tried. I really did.
“And you’ll be back to do them in twenty minutes. Unless you prefer to go home?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Good.”
He stared at me and pointed towards the restaurant, leaving me to lead the way.
I didn’t want to see Ben. I wasn’t strong enough for that. But Mark was standing in the middle of the restaurant looking like he was about to kill someone, with the waiting staff huddled in a corner and a table of terror-stricken customers who would clearly rather have been anywhere but here.
Welcome to the service industry, I thought with a chuckle, and then Finn made me walk through the doors into the kitchen where Ben was stomping around in a circle and someone was shouting and there was a strong smell of burning coming from somewhere. All the while, Finn just stood there, calm as anything.
“Chef!” he barked.
“What?” Ben barked back. Then he stared at me. Oh…fuck.
“Two avo on toast, two teas, and a side of croissants. Make that a fuck-tonne of croissants, actually. We’ll be in the break room.” Finn had his arms crossed, and I really wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. I was shaking, and Ben was shaking, and I didn’t know what made me do it, but I took a step forward and he did too, and then he picked me up in one almighty hug. My feet actually left the floor as he held me, and his face was in my neck and mine was in his, and I could smell all kinds of food on him, his chef’s jacket covered in his usual stains. And him. Christ almighty. Him.
“You okay?” he murmured.
“Not really,” I admitted.
“I have your cereal bars in the back. You didn’t bring your lunch either.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He kissed the top of my head. Actually kissed it.
“You haven’t eaten, have you?” He let me down but kept his fingertips on my cheek.
“Get a room, you two!” someone shouted.
“Chef! The meat guy is here!”
More shouting.
I should have panicked. Yet I didn’t. I just shook my head.
“Finn told me.”
“Can’t do anything in this place without people noticing.” I wasn’t being snarky. Well. I was a bit.
“Nope. And there will be food. Give me a sec to get this meat guy sorted…”
He let me go, and I stood there in the middle of the kitchen and tried to hug myself and disappear at the same time.
This was so…not me. I didn’t do things like this. I was the master of hiding stuff, of pretending everything was okay when nothing was. I wiped a bloody tear from my eye and scurried into the break room where Finn already had two cups of tea on the table.
