Page 12 of When Summer Returns

“Lead on, Captain.”

They started in the kitchen, and a slender man with impressive forearms was already at work, breaking down what appeared to be a massive tuna with surgical precision. He glanced up as they entered, flashing a brilliant smile that transformed his serious face.

“The infamous Ms. James, I presume.” He wiped his hands on a towel tucked into his apron. “Mateo Suarez. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All lies, I’m sure,” she replied, extending her hand. “And it’s Jessie, please.”

“Mateo’s our head chef,” Luke explained. “Stole him from a five-star resort in Miami three years ago.”

“I lost a poker game,” Mateo corrected with a theatrical sigh. “My talents were the collateral. A true artist, reduced to cooking for islanders and tourists who think ketchup is a spice.”

“Mateo leans toward the dramatic,” Luke said with a grin. “But his food speaks for itself.”

“The seafood convinced me to stay. And the obscene salary.” Mateo gestured toward the tuna. “Now, I must commune with this magnificent creature. Come back for staff meal and I’ll make you a bouillabaisse that will change your relationship with food forever.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Jessie promised.

Luke continued the tour, showing her the walk-in refrigerators, dry storage areas, and an impressive wine cellar she hadn’t expected. Unlike the open-air main bar and dining sections, these back-of-house areas were properly enclosed with solid walls, lockable doors, and air-conditioning to protect the food and equipment from the elements and potential theft. His knowledge was comprehensive, his passion evident in the way he described systems he’d implemented and challenges they’d overcome. This was more than a business to him—it was a creation, nurtured with the same care one might give a child.

“And this is where the magic happens,” he said as they exited the kitchen into the main bar area. Without patrons, the space felt larger, its polished surfaces gleaming in the morning light streaming through the raised screens. “We open at eleven for lunch service, close between three and five to reset, then dinner from five until midnight. Later on weekends.”

“You’re here for all of it?” She tried to imagine the hours such a schedule required.

“I have managers, but yeah, I’m around most days. Hard to run a place like this if you’re not in the trenches.”

Jessie nodded, absorbing the implications. Her life in finance had been demanding, but at least she’d been able to set boundaries around her time. This was all-consuming in a way that explained both Luke’s dedication and his apparent lack of a personal life beyond the business.

“So,” she said, running her fingers along the polished mahogany bar, “what do you want me to do?”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “Do?”

“I’m part owner now, for better or worse. I’m not just going to sit around watching you work while I collect profits.”

He studied her for a moment, as if trying to determine her sincerity. “Can you tend bar?”

“I can learn.”

“Wait tables?”

“If necessary.”

“Wash dishes?”

She leveled a look at him. “Now you’re just being insulting.”

“Welcome to the restaurant business,” he said with a shrug. “Everyone does everything when needed. I’ve washed more dishes than I can count.”

“Then consider me your new dishwashing apprentice,” Jessie said, refusing to back down. “I’m serious, Luke. I want to contribute.”

He leaned against the bar, arms crossed over his chest as he assessed her. The position emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, the lean strength built from years of physical work rather than calculated gym sessions.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s start with the basics. You can shadow Miguel at the bar today, learn the most common drinks and systems. If you survive that without poisoning anyone, we’ll move you up to taking orders tomorrow.”

“Such confidence in my abilities.”

“I have enormous confidence in your abilities,” he corrected. “Just not in this particular arena. Yet.”

The distinction mattered, she realized. He wasn’t underestimating her competence, just acknowledging her inexperience in his world. Fair enough.

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