Page 109 of Roses in Summer

With Seraphina, I feel complete.

—

The hours fly as I work through the lunch shift, prep for dinner, and start on service. Before I realize it, it’s almost eight o’clock, and I haven’t had more than a five-minute break to use the restroom and send a check-in text to Seraphina.

“That was brutal.” Diana groans, twisting her torso to crack her back.

“Why don’t you head down to the break room? I can finish up the last hour of service.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. Besides, you owe me for working so damn hard yesterday.”

“I heard Kyle came in for relief yesterday,” I say, referring to one of the other chefs in our section of the brigade.

Diana scoffs at the mention of his name. “The boy is useless. I don’t know what happened to him.”

“I’m pretty sure his wife just had a baby, and they’re sleep-deprived.”

“We’re all sleep-deprived. I’m going,” she says unceremoniously, wiping down her station before packing her shit up and turning without another word. I laugh at the sight of her back, feeling comfort in Diana’s standard irritable nature.

Starting to break down my section, I push everything I may still need to the side and clean up whatever I’m able to before the end of service, making my official cleanup easier. My phone has sat in my pocket for most of the night on silent, but I pull it out now, seeing that my notifications seem to be riddled with texts from Seraphina, my mom, and the group chat with the guys. I’m about to click on Seraphina’s name when Dante sends another text to our chat, compelling me to scroll through the conversation.

Dante (6:57 PM):What do you think about a best man speech where I start off with “Four Score and Seven Years Ago?”

Grey (7:01 PM):We’re not having a bridal party

Dante (7:02 PM):But if you did, I’d be the best man, right?

Grey (7:17 PM):No

Dante (7:20 PM):Fuckface. Cheffy, can I be yours?

Dante (8:06 PM): Should I be offended Lincoln’s not answering?

I roll my eyes at his most recent message and stab out a quick reply.

Lincoln: I’m at work, asshole.

Dante: Someone’s grouchy.

Grey: Dante, don’t make me call Celeste to take care of you.

I shiver at the thought of Celeste, an involuntary reaction even after all these years. I’ve never seen someone so deceptively innocent bring a man to his knees with little more than her pinky.

Dante: Yes, you absolutely should do that. You know Red likes to think she’s in charge.

“Fucking idiot,” I mutter, swiping out of our conversation. I bypass my mother’s text message and scroll to Seraphina’s name. Instead of texting her, I click on the phone icon and bring my cell to my ear.

It rings a few times before going to voicemail, and I scowl at the phone. Rationally, I know she’s probably busy or isn’t next to her phone, but I still don’t like not being able to get in touch with her. Typing out a message, I read it over and press send.

Lincoln: I know it’ll be later when I get to you, but can I take you out tonight? We haven’t had a real date yet.

The message reads as delivered, though there’s no read stamp. Placing it down, I keep one eye on my phone and the other focused on my prep station, counting down the minutes until I’m able to get in my car and drive to Seraphina’s apartment.

—

She still hasn’t answered.

I jog the distance from the restaurant to my parked car and waste no time sliding behind the wheel and peeling out of the lot.

---