If it had been up to Leighton, she and Jonathan would’ve spent the days following their romantic dinner the same way they’d spent that night: making love until all they had the strength to do was sleep. But with the opening now only two days away, their sexual sabbatical was placed on hold.
That’s why she found herself in Sedici later that afternoon. She adjusted the bow on the server’s waist apron then shifted her weight onto her back foot and eyed her handiwork.
Perfect. The butter yellow popped against the black, adding a bit of elegant whimsy to the severity of the uniform.
“Robby, how is this?”
The Front of the House manager strode over, shoving the digital tablet he was carrying under his arm. His blue eyes raked the server’s attire.
“That looks great, Leighton. Thank you.” Robby turned and yelled at the assembled waitstaff. “The way Jenny is wearing the uniform is the prototype of how we want you to look. Take pictures if necessary. If you have any questions of how to achieve this style, ask Leighton.”
Between one blink and the next, a line of servers had formed in front of her, their uniforms in various stages of disarray. She directed a wry smile at Robby, motioned the first one forward and set to work.
Bedlam reigned all around her. Bodies circulated as servers gathered the components of their uniforms and either figured it out themselves or joined her ever-increasing line; bar staff wiped down everything from the countertops to the blenders to the soda gun holders; and handymen put the finishing touches on last minute projects. It was all hands on deck as everyone pulled together to get Sedici ready.
She was happy to help and content to be in the same space with Jonathan, even if they weren’t in the same room. He’d been working nonstop in the couple of days since he’d confessed his role in her accident. In fact, she could’ve convinced herself she’d imagined their romantic evening together if not for the fact that he crawled into bed with her each night when he finally made it home. She was becoming accustomed to waking up to the distinctive weight of some part of him wrapped around her.
But she’d made good use of her time alone, continuing with her required therapies. The doctors had been encouraged by the spontaneous recovery of some of her memories, but they couldn’t offer her any guarantees. The rest would either return or they wouldn’t.
She’d thought she’d been living her life, but she’d only been existing, like a hamster running on a wheel—active, but never moving forward. She decided the time had come for her to assert some control. She scheduled time next week to meet with her bosses at Faulkner. She intended to apprise them of her situation and get briefed on her employment history with them and her current assignments. With that missing piece of information, she’d be able to explore all of her employment options.
As for Jonathan, just because she didn’t remember how their relationship began didn’t mean she had no say in how it progressed. She’d made her needs known—and they’d been ably fulfilled!—but what about what he wanted, beyond the physical? If her memories never came back would he still want to be with her? The thought of that conversation twisted her stomach into a tight knot, but it was necessary and she intended to have it.
But first, they needed to get through the opening.
“Run it again. Repetition yields consistency and builds muscle memory. What’s going to happen when we’re totally slammed with over 120 covers? I won’t tolerate a station running short or food dying on the pass because someone wasted seconds figuring out something that should be second nature. Run it until they get it right!”
She’d know that commanding voice anywhere.
“Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your beautiful face when your pussy tightens around my cock and you come.”
She shivered.
Focus, Leighton. Now isn’t the time.
She inspected the length of a bistro apron then nodded at the tall, young server wearing it. “You’re fine.”
“So. Are. You.”
She’d already switched her scrutiny to the next person in line, but his amorous tone recalled her attention. “Excuse me?”
Dimples made their appearance. “I said, you’re fine, too. How about drinks later?”
Her lips quirked and she clamped them together to repress her emerging smile. He was good-looking and she was flattered, but there was no need to encourage him.
“How about drinks never?” Jonathan interrupted them, sliding an arm around her waist.
The young man’s complexion turned ashen, quite a feat considering his warm brown coloring.
“Sorry, Chef,” he murmured, slinking away.
“That wasn’t nice,” she said, despite the old-fashioned thrill that zipped through her.
“Good. Then I achieved my goal.” In one controlled, deft motion, Jonathan curled his arm and brought her body flush with his.
The genetic lottery could be so unfair. He’d been at the restaurant all day but his tousled hair and scruffy jaw didn’t cast him in a messy or unkempt light. Instead, he came off looking like a sexy, naughty bad boy on the prowl.
“No one told me you were here,” he said, nuzzling her neck, his hands locked at the small of her back.
She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and snuggled into his embrace. “There was no need to bother you.”
“You are never a bother.” He sighed and placed his forehead against hers. “I’ve hated leaving you home by yourself these past couple of days, but it can’t be helped.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m getting better every day. I can take care of myself.”
“I know. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.” He straightened and raised a concerned brow. “And you’re okay? I wanted to be with you your first time back here after the accident.”
“I did worry how I would react—that’s why I came before Saturday. The last thing either of us would want is a meltdown during the opening.”
The anxiety hadn’t been necessary. She’d taken a deep breath, opened the door . . . and been so taken aback by the beauty of the place that she had no apprehension about what might have happened before. And as a bonus, no disturbing memories came surging forth. She’d grabbed the first person she saw who appeared to be in charge—that turned out to be Robby—and introduced herself. He’d put her to work immediately.
Jonathan stroked her hair. “And?”
“Nothing.” She turned her shrug into a hip-shaking dance of joy. “But, babe, it looks amazing. You did it!”
“We did.” He slid a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you’re here. Seeing you is the pick-me-up I needed.”
Their lips met in a kiss that began casually and quickly shifted gears into something fierce and arousing. The hard muscles beneath her palm, his scent that drove her wild, the skillful way his tongue invaded her mouth with purpose and tangled with hers. She shivered again. She’d never get enough of him.
“Umm, excuse me . . . Chef, it’s—oh, hell!”
They broke apart, both breathing heavily. A man in a stained white t-shirt and khaki-colored tool belt grabbed the rim of his baseball cap, pulled it off his head and with that same hand, scratched his hair, his gaze glued to the stunning Brazilian Cherry hardwood floors.
“No problem.” Jonathan gave her one last lingering kiss then transformed back into his all-business persona. “What do you need?”
The handyman jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The signage is up.”
“It’s about time!” Jonathan clasped his hands together. “Let’s go see this fucker.”
Grabbing her elbow and bellowing to anyone within hearing distance to follow, he pushed through the front door. Outside, a worker was descending a ladder. Jonathan shifted to shield her with his body, hurrying her out to the street—and away from the possibility of any falling debris.
Not by hesitating or speaking or glancing at her did he convey his awareness that he’d sheltered her. But she’d noticed. That had to mean something, right? Everything he’d done proved how much he cared for her, even if he hadn’t yet said the words. Inside her, an inferno blazed bright.
The custom ironwork sign was impressive and eye-catching with spotlights strategically placed to emphasize the gold-plated script. Wolf whistles and claps filled the air. Drivers who figured out the reason behind the commotion honked their horns, adding to the moment.
Jonathan released her arm and executed a courtly bow with a double-handed flourish. “Thank you. Thank you.”
The restaurant’s door opened and a striking woman, with large light-colored eyes and a mop of jet black curls, poked her head out. “They’re plated, Chef.”
“Come see the sign, Gib.”
She jammed her hands on her hips. “Later. Go.”
“Jeez, so pushy.” He winked at Leighton. “Duty calls.”
“No worries. I’ll continue to pitch in where I can.”
He shuffled backward, pointing his finger at her. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
His responding broad smile stoked her inner inferno.
Everyone followed him back inside Sedici everyone followed him, like a foodie pied piper. She took one last look at the eye-catching sign and then she joined the captivated masses, bringing up the rear.
“How are you feeling?”
Leighton stalled mid-stride at the husky, honeyed voice. The woman who’d first summoned Jonathan had remained by the door. This was his sous chef, Gib? She hadn’t expected his trusted second-in-command to come in this package.
“Better. Except for the occasional headaches.”
“I’m glad.” Gib’s lashes fluttered. “That you’re on the mend, not that you have headaches.”
Leighton found the retraction charming. She smiled. “I know. You’re Gib?”
“That’s me. It’s short for Gibson. Nyah Gibson.”
“Nyah. That’s a beautiful name.”
“What?” The shrill cackle grabbed both of their attention.
In the small group of women encircling Jonathan, a young redhead patted her chest above her low-cut shirt and laughed, revealing the source of the original sound. Fire Crotch tilted her head and swayed back and forth. Leighton firmed her lips. The girl couldn’t be more obvious.
“She won’t last,” Gib said.
“Who?” Leighton asked, trying to play it cool. Apparently FC wasn’t the only one being too obvious.
“You don’t have to worry about that.” Gib nodded toward the groupies, er, grouping. “He’s a celebrity in the food world. Women fawning over him isn’t a new occurrence, or men for that matter.”
Heat flared through her. Why was she jealous? Jonathan loved her. Didn’t she believe him?
A sudden pain arced behind her eyes. She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Will he fire her?”
“That’s not his style. They usually quit when they realize their attentions won’t be returned.”
“So it happens a lot?”
“It comes with the territory. But he takes his work very seriously. He’d never get involved with one of his employees.”
Leighton scrutinized the beautiful woman standing next to her. “You’ve worked with Jonathan for a long time?”
“I have. I started out at Quartet and when he decided to open Sedici he asked me to come with him.”
That required a huge commitment from both parties. “What does being his sous chef entail?”
Gib crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m his second in command. Chef has a vision for his restaurant. It’s my job to carry it out. I manage the kitchen staff, prepare the food and ensure the customer’s experience is the way Chef intends it.”
Leighton lifted both brows. Wow. “You must work closely with him?”
“Twelve to fifteen hours a day, six days a week. I’m like his right hand. But only in the kitchen.” Her lips twitched. “I’m not touching anything else.”
Leighton laughed. “I didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t have to. It was written all over your face.”
“Never?”
Gib shook her head, her eyes bright. “Never.”
Leighton returned her attention to the women fawning over Jonathan. He made eye contact, his smile was open, and his posture appeared relaxed. Friendly but professional. There was nothing in his behavior to indicate he was flirting.
“He cares for you, Leighton.” Gib’s voice was gentle.
“I know.”
“We were three weeks from opening. Nothing could’ve dragged him away from here. Then you had your accident. He went to see you at the hospital every day and when you regained consciousness, he chose to be with you. I didn’t think anything would take precedence over his restaurants. But you did.”
A booming voice intruded before Leighton could process Gib’s words. “Someone told me this restaurant was owned by a famous chef, but there must be some mistake. The service is seriously lacking.”
A tall, handsome blond man waited just inside the door, holding hands with a delicately beautiful pregnant woman. Beside them stood another couple: a gorgeous woman with a mass of black curls, and an incredibly attractive man with dark tousled hair and an intense gaze, his hands resting on her shoulders.
Jonathan’s smile threatened to split his face in two. He hurried across the restaurant. “What the fuck are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”
“Adam realized the restaurant was near the hotel, so we decided to stop.” The woman blessed with the curls said, jerking a thumb at the man standing behind her.
Handshakes, hugs and kisses on the cheek accompanied the various greetings and exclamations and she realized these must be Jonathan’s friends and their wives. He looked so relaxed and happy in ways she’d only recently seen in their quiet moments together.
“You haven’t checked in yet? Indi, that’s not good for you.”
“Really, Jonathan? I already have two husbands and a wife,” the pregnant woman said, motioning to the three people surrounding her. “The position of ‘worrying about Indi’ has been filled. Besides, we couldn’t drive past without stopping to see you.”
Mike’s blue eyes softened and he placed a hand on his wife’s belly. “Don’t worry. When we get to the suite, I’ll make sure she rests.”
Adam walked around, studying the interior. “The decor is clearly different from Quartet, but there are elements that bind the two restaurants. Congratulations, this is impressive.”
“Thanks, man.” Jonathan looked around as if searching for something, but when he caught sight of Leighton, he smiled and held out his hand for her to join them.
When her palm slid against his, a wave of certainty crashed over her. This is what she wanted. Always and forever.
Jonathan brought their joined hands up and clasped them to his chest. “Everyone, this is Leighton. Leighton, these are my best friends, hell, they’re my family. Adam and his wife, Chelsea. Mike and his wife, Indi.”
As if they’d practiced it, all four pairs of eyes zeroed in on their clinched hands then swung to her face.
She could feel the blush sweep across her cheekbones, though thankfully her dark complexion hid the evidence of her embarrassment. She’d never been a self-conscious person, but in that moment she wished she’d had the opportunity to smooth her hair, re-apply her lipstick and straighten her sleeveless black top and white wide leg pants. Jonathan loved these people and she loved Jonathan. She wanted to make the best impression possible.
“Hi. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Adam and Mike both nodded and shook her hand. The women regarded her with open curiosity.
“So you’re the reason he’s abandoned us.” Indi’s tone was serious, but there was a teasing warmth in her light brown eyes.
“I don’t think I’m to blame for him leaving San Francisco,” she said, ever the diplomat’s daughter and able to fake confidence when required, “but I’ll definitely take credit for persuading him to stay.”
“Damn right,” Jonathan said, his suggestive smile actually making Leighton’s knees weak.
Chelsea nodded approvingly. “As you should.”
“Too cute,” Indi said. “But this is a restaurant, right? Can a sister get some food?”
Chelsea nudged her. “Queen, thy name is drama! You ate on the plane.”
“I’m not dramatic, Chels. I’m passionate, emotional and fifteen months pregnant.”
“I’ll take care of it, Chef.” Gib stepped forward, laughing. She looked at Indi. “Anything in particular?”
“Nothing major. I’m just feeling a little peckish.” She scratched her chin. “Some chicken, pasta, bread, obviously and, ooh, if you have any of the duck with the chanterelle mushrooms, like you have at Quartet, that would be perfect.”
Gib’s eyes widened. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.
“Sorry, Gib,” Mike said, calling to the sous chef’s retreating figure. He shook his head and turned to Jonathan. “Is Zach here?”
Indi playfully smacked her husband’s arm and said, “Don’t apologize for me. Gib and I are cool.”
“He’s in New York,” Jonathan answered, smiling, “but he’ll be at the opening.”
“When you told us you were forming a restaurant group with an eye toward opening more establishments, I was concerned,” Adam said. “But seeing what you’ve accomplished . . . we’re proud of you.”
“Just make sure you never get so big that Computronix can’t get Quartet to cater our events,” Mike added.
Jonathan shrugged. “I don’t know. You might have to start using our official request process like everyone else.”
“Oh, that’s how it is? No problem. And when I get to the part of the form where it asks how we heard about your services, I’ll be sure to mention how we’ve been friends since you plastic-wrapped your freshman roommate to the dorm couch when he passed out after a party.”
“You’re going to bring that up?” Jonathan asked. “The little prick started it by peeing in my shampoo bottle.”
“But you could’ve stopped. You didn’t have to replace the kid’s conditioner with hair remover,” Adam said.
“Motherfucker, you helped,” Jonathan began, pointing at his friend.
They were three wildly successful men and yet, in that moment, they’d reverted to the college kids they’d once been, bantering, teasing and name-calling. Leighton shared an amused look with Chelsea and Indi.
“You’ve got an audience,” she told the boys, in case they were interested.
While no one stood around gawking at them, everyone, from the servers, to the bartenders to the construction crew, was overt in their efforts to keep one eye on their task and the other on their little comedy troupe.
Jonathan waved them away. “Nothing to see here. Let’s get back to work.”
Indi winced and placed a hand on her lower back.
Mike instantly sobered. “What’s wrong?” he asked his wife, rushing to her side and ushering her into the nearest chair.
“I’m fine. My lower back aches, but I think I may have overdone it today.”
“Why don’t you head over to your hotel and check in?” Jonathan suggested. “Indi probably needs to rest and I’m headed for another late, tiring night.”
The fact that Indi didn’t argue with the notion spoke volumes about the other woman’s exhaustion.
After his friends left—with the food Gib provided—Jonathan gave her a quick kiss. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back in the kitchen. Make sure you come see me before you leave.”
Several hours later, she found him in his office going over paperwork with Gib. Though he looked tired, he perked up when he saw her. Without a word, she slid him a folded note, kissed his cheek and smiled at Gib.
When she reached the door, she turned in time to see his mouth drop open and his gaze lift to meet hers.
Something told her that while he might be late getting home this evening, he wouldn’t be too tired for her plans.