Forbidden: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance - Page 42

“Yes,” he said, a bit of frustration and attitude in his voice. “I talked to Cameron. I talked to Alex. I was pretty sure I spoke to you about it too, but perhaps I didn’t. Or maybe it got lost in the other renovations.”

“There were a bunch,” I said. “It’s possible it got forgotten about during the hubbub over the walk-in freezer. How is that, by the way?”

“Not big enough,” he said. “But I’ll make it work. As usual.”

I rolled my eyes. My baby bro could play martyr with the best of them.

“Is that it? The pizza oven and shelving?” I asked.

“I mean, those are two pretty important things I am going to need before we open,” he said. “If we go with a brick oven, it’s going to take a few days to build, I would guess.”

“Yeah, that it would,” I said. “I would have to go over plans and stuff with Alex and Cameron and maybe bring a few guys in.”

“Fine, just talk to them about it,” he said. “I just wish Ally were here. She is so good at the problem-solving stuff in the kitchen.”

“Where is she?” I asked, wondering where the words came from and how they came out of my mouth.

“She’s at home. Sick,” he said.

“Sick?” I asked, still surprised that apparently my mouth was talking without bothering to get instructions about what to ask about and what most certainly not to ask about from my conscious mind. “Is she alright?”

Derek looked over at me as he chopped his onions with a strange look on his face.

“What does it matter to you?” he said. “You two hate each other.”

“Dude, I don’t hate her. We just don’t get along.” Unless we’re naked.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“But, you know, you were just sick, so I was wondering,” I said.

“Well, you hit the nail on the head, I think,” he said. “She said she had a stomach bug, so she’s taking some time off. It is absolutely killing me.”

“Why?” I asked. “Just for problem-solving in the kitchen design?”

“No, I’m fine there,” he said. “She helps, for sure, but that’s not the primary reason I’m missing her right now. Look.”

He crossed the room again and picked up a folder he had placed near the salad bowls when he came in. The folder was packed with various sheets of paper, and when he handed it to me, I opened it up. It was overflowing with various papers with various fonts all explaining the menu. Also, the menu items seemed to not only be arranged differently but be entirely different in explanation and names.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

“Well, we had just started work on the menus,” he said. “Then she got sick and doing it over Zoom just isn’t the same. So, I’ve been behind working on them all week.”

“Oh,” I said. “That sucks.”

“Indeed, it does,” he said, taking the file back and flipping through a few of them. “I need to make a choice tonight so I can get them printed and laminated if I want them to be ready on time.”

“Well, this is your deal, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I said.

Derek nodded and waved me off. “Go on, I’ll be fine.” I got up and headed out. By the time I was in my truck, I knew I didn’t want to join Duncan for a drink. Not that night. I had other things on my mind, and I didn’t want it to get in the way of a good time.

Instead, I drove straight to the restaurant supply store. There were a few things there I knew Derek had mentioned and hadn’t ordered yet, and I could shop around for some of the pizza ovens. Once I was there, I started taking notes and finding out what I could without texting Derek for explanations. I wanted to come into the next conversation I had with him with a level of research and knowledge that let him know I’d listened to him.

But still, as I wandered the tight aisle full of cast iron and aluminum, my mind kept wandering back to Ally. I wondered If she was okay, and if she needed anything. And if I was even the one she’d want around if she did.

20

Ally

“It’s been hanging on for a few days. I thought I would be feeling better by now, but I actually feel worse. My colleague was sick a few weeks ago. I must have caught it working in the kitchen with him.”

The nurse looked at me with the same kind of low-key aggravated expression I tended to get when people started explaining basic cooking techniques to me. I realized I was sitting in the examination room at my doctor’s office for the express purpose of figuring out why I’d been so sick to my stomach and tired, and to see if there was anything they could do about it. Rather than letting them do that, I jumped right into instructing the nurse and diagnosing myself.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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