Page 58 of Diving In

“G, seriously…” he said, his voice sounding a bit desperate.

Thankfully I didn’t have to muster up a response because our waitress was headed in our direction with our waters, a large smile plastered on her face.

I still hadn’t looked at the menu, but I didn’t need to. I knew what I was getting.

“I’ll have a bowl of your lobster bisque. I’ve heard it’s the best on the island.” I smiled, handing over my menu.

“You won’t be disappointed,” she answered with a grin. “And for you?” She turned to face Ian.

“I’ll have your salmon, cooked medium, with vegetables and rice. Can you please make sure they don’t use butter on my vegetables?” he asked.

The waitress tried to hide her bewilderment, but she didn’t do a very good job. Her facial expression said it all.

“You got it!” She reached for his menu and continued, “My name’s Natasha. Please let me know if you need anything.”

I watched her leave, sure she was going to the back to tell everyone about the dude that specifically asked for no butter on his vegetables. That was basically a crime in the south. Butter held its own zip code down here.

“She was a little rude,” Ian said, fidgeting on his phone with his left hand.

“I don’t think she meant to be rude. It’s just that people take their butter down here very seriously. She’s probably never had someone request sans butter,” I said, the tone in my voice hinting at my annoyance.

“Mm.” His response fell with a lazy nod of his head.

Every single thing Ian was doing had begun to annoy me. Since he’d gotten here, I’d been reminded of all his downfalls. They’d been significantly heightened in our time apart and now, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore them. But at this point, I’d given up on fighting him. I was exhausted and had zero desire to put forth that kind of energy.

“Are you ready to be back in New York? We’ve missed you,” he said.

I hesitated before answering, not sure exactly how honest I should be, but I went with the easy way out. “It will be good to get back to my routine.”

“I’ve been thinking about us a lot since you left.” He paused, letting his words sink in and gauging my reaction.

I didn’t give him one.

“G, I’ve really missed you. Hell, I missed you so much I got on an airplane during the busiest time of year at work to come see you.”

My stomach immediately sank, my anger rising due to the fact that he’d once again made this about him. I did my best to keep my cool as he finished, but my toe was aggressively tapping underneath the table.

He lingered, grabbed my hand from across the table, and looked into my eyes. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about us, our relationship, our future… Things were really put into perspective for me after you left.”

I stared at him, and I knew he was patiently waiting for me to respond, but every time I attempted to say something, nothing came out. My anxiety started to take over, but thankfully I was saved just in time.

“I have the salmon with vegetables and rice, absolutelynobutter.” The man chuckled as he set the plate in front of Ian.

“Perfect. Thanks, man,” Ian stated, very pleased.

I had watched our waitress disappear and reappear from the back multiple times, seemingly delivering food to all her other tables, but judging by his outfit, the man in front of us was clearly the chef.

“And that means the lobster bisque must be for you, Georgia Windsor,” he said with a smirk.

“Yeah, that’s—” I stopped, realizing what he’d just said. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

Although, it seemed as though every fucking person on this island knew who I was, so I really shouldn’t be surprised at this point.

“Matthew Nelson, head chef and owner of The Rogue Shallot,” he proudly announced.

His name didn’t ring any bells, and I had no idea how that was going to make me understand how he knew my name, so I waited for him to explain himself more.

“Jack always hoped you’d make it here one day, and damn am I glad you did,” he said. “It’s been a long time, G. You look exactly how I remember you from all those years ago.”