CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Liam

 

There was nothing like a Saturday night in the kitchen of a happening restaurant to get your mind off your troubles. The orders were pouring in steadily from five o’clock until closing, leaving me no time to think about anything except plating the next meal.

Toni and I fell into our usual groove, and the line cook was kept on his toes all night. Bree would send back the occasional cocktail to keep us going.

It was close to eleven when we sent the last plate out. I pulled off my apron, glancing around at the kitchen and shooting the dishwasher an apologetic look.

“You can take home the leftover lobster,” I told him. “There’s enough there for a decent meal and there’s nothing we can do with it here.”

He smiled in gratitude and got back to work. It was a shit job, but it had its perks. Besides, we’d all been there.

“You coming out front?” Toni asked.

“Yeah. Be there in a minute.”

Toni left the kitchen and headed to the bar. As the door closed behind her, I could hear the laughter and loud voices that only came from a crowd having a good time. I pulled out my phone and thought about texting Maggie. We’d left things kind of weirdly, and it wasn’t sitting right with me.

Hey? You there?

I waited a few minutes but got no response, so I shoved the phone back in my pocket and headed to the bar.

 

*

I was three drinks in when Trish sat down next to me. Trish was a regular and often stuck around after hours to drink with the staff. Her daughter, Desi, was Adam’s nanny/babysitter, and I’d once made the mistake of going home with her. Okay, twice.

She was a good time and everything, but she talked way too fucking much. Normally, I was good with conversation, but she never had anything of interest to say, so I found myself listening to step-by-step reenactments of her day. She ordered a drink from Bree and immediately launched into the killer meeting she’d had at work. The woman could be exhausting.

I nursed my scotch and it wasn’t long before she turned her attention on me.

“What are you up to tonight, Chef?” she asked, a coy smile on her face.

“Sorry, Trish. Got plans tonight.”

She pouted, then slid off the stool and went over to talk to a cluster of women. Toni came up beside me, studying me.

“What plans?”

I turned to her.

“Oh, none. Just not in the mood for that tonight.”

“Since when?” she snorted.

I downed the rest of my drink and signalled Bree for another.

“Can’t I just spend a fun night at work with my colleagues?”

“I guess. I just figured after a week of being caged, you’d be scratching to get out.”

“It’s not all about sex, you know.”

Toni choked on her drink, set down her glass, then reached over to feel my forehead.

“Very funny,” I murmured.

Bree delivered my drink and I pounded it down. I got off the stool, walked over to Trish, and whispered in her ear. She turned to me and smiled and together we left the bar.

 

*

I woke up the next morning on the living room floor of my apartment, still fully clothed, reeking of sweat and alcohol. I groaned as I rolled over onto my side, desperate to turn away from the window and all its light. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. What the fuck had happened?

I ran my hand over my face, feeling the drool that had dried on the corner of my mouth. Great. A1, Liam.

“Fuck.”

“Oh, are you awake?”

I sat straight up, banging my head on the coffee table. I simultaneously grunted, grabbed my head, and looked around to see who had spoken.

“Trish,” I said, my head echoing with what sounded like thunder.

“Don’t move. I’ll make some coffee,” she said, getting up off her perch on the couch and heading to the kitchen. “And get some ice.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, still rubbing my head.

I frantically searched my memory, trying to piece the night together. I remembered working late, staying late, drinking a lot, and then—. Oh, shit. I glanced down, saw I was still in my clothes, and realized that nothing major could’ve happened.

Trish came back and handed me a bag of frozen peas, which I put on my head. Then she passed me two aspirin and a cup of steaming coffee. I’d never been so happy to have another human being around.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You just had too much to drink. By the time you figured out how to open the front door, you were done. One step into the apartment and you crashed. I forgot my purse at the restaurant, so I didn’t have money for a cab. I slept on the couch.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, Trish. Real class act, huh?”

She just smiled.

“That’s okay. Can you spot me a tenner? I’m going to be late for work.”

I reached into my back pocket for my wallet, extracted a twenty-dollar bill, and passed it over. She blew me a kiss and walked out the front door.