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“Ah.” It all begins to make sense.
“Yeah.” Daniel’s not done. “When I was sixteen, I liked a girl who was definitely from the wrong side of the tracks.” He grins in memory. “She had a nose ring, and a pierced tongue, and most interesting to a teenage boy, nipple rings. I was nervous about bringing her home. I was afraid my parents would sneer at her.”
I can’t imagine Daniel’s parents reacting that way. They certainly hadn’t sneered at me when Daniel had invited me to lunch. They’d welcomed me warmly and we’d talked about food, and one week later, I had a job as an assistant to one of New York’s most creative chefs.
“That was when my dad told me the story of bringing my mother to meet his parents for the first time. My grandparents more or less told him to fuck her out of his system and move on to a more appropriate woman.”
I wince. “I’m assuming that your dad didn’t listen?”
Daniel shakes his head. “Nope. Both my parents are far too stubborn.” Then his smile fades. “Last night, I didn’t follow my father’s example.” There’s regret mingled with sadness in his voice. “I followed my grandfather’s. I focused on business and nothing else. No wonder my mother is ashamed of me.”
“Stop.” There’s a hopelessness in his eyes that I’m unused to seeing. Daniel always has a solution, he always has a plan. The waitress is approaching us to take our order, but I wave her away, signaling to her to give us another minute. “You fucked up. So fix it.”
He raises his eyes toward my face, and my worry eases when I see the steel in his eyes. He’s not giving up. “Oh, I am,” he responds. “I have a plan in motion. Now, onto other topics. How’s Ben working out at Seb New York?”
I groan as I think about the unpredictable mess that is my sous-chef. Ben is a walking personification of every angry chef stereotype. He yells at the line cooks. He curses and pouts and stomps around, and the worst thing is that most of the time, he’s responsible for the kitchen crisis he’s on a rant about. “I think he might have a drinking problem.”
Daniel frowns. “That’s not good.”
I shake my head. “Tell me about it. Last night, I had to intervene before every single one of our staff walked out en masse. He messed up the tickets, he screamed at the wait staff, and he almost caused a fucking riot. I had to send him home and take over. I was almost going to bail on you.”
“I thought you looked exhausted when you walked in. Fire him.”
“Come on, Daniel.”
“Nope, listen to me.” His voice is firm. “I run into shit like this all the time. Some people are a cancer. They ruin everything around them. You want to help Ben - do it outside your restaurant. Don’t poison everyone else by exposing them to his antics.”
“I’ll think about it,” I concede reluctantly. I hear the wisdom of his words, but I don’t like what he’s suggesting. Ben’s from the South too, and I feel a sense of kinship with him. The memories of my early struggles in New York intrude when I’m tempted to give up on Ben. Daniel had given me a helping hand when I needed it - shouldn’t I do the same?
The waitress is back to take our orders and I try to decide if I should order the halibut or the lamb. The menu is a disjointed mess. The owner of this place might have lucked out with an exceptional chef, but they are missing the mark in so many other ways. I wonder how long the place will last.
Daniel rolls his eyes at my hesitation, but doesn’t push it. He turns to the waitress and orders the lamb, and I promptly get the halibut. I want to see what these guys can do.
We chat about other things as we eat our lunch. As my crew has promised, the food is really exceptional. “Is this place going to make it?” Daniel asks me.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. The decor and the menu need an overhaul. The pricing is all wrong as well. I give it six months. A year, if they get lucky.”
“Pity,” he lifts his fork up to his mouth. “The food’s amazing.”
“Why do you think I’m here?” I grin. “I’m going to hire the chef when this place goes under, Daniel. Whoever he is, he’s too good to leave in a place like this.” I thank the waitress, who has just topped up our water. She’s looking upset, for some reason. I wonder why.
