Page 32 of Falling for My Best Friend's Dad
I know what she’s up to, but I pretend I don’t. I refrain from speaking and place the menu in front of her.
“Rome, Tuscany, Milan, Venice,” she recites the names of the cities I went with Olivia, who definitely shared her photos with her friend.
“You might want to attend a wintersagre, food festivals. We had the best polenta the last time we were there. Olivia couldn’t get enough of it. And the wild boar meat in spicy sauce, don’t get me started,” I sigh and stop, realizing I’ve got carried away.
Penny’s eyes gleam and she whispers, “Come with me, Richard! I’ll book a ticket for you. It’s as easy as pie.”
The cozy hotel in the snowy Cortina, and the sunny beaches in Sicily. I blink as nostalgia attacks me. Yes, I want to relive those happy days and feel young again… as if it’s even possible. The old places are still there, but the old days are gone. I try to talk myself out of it. It’s better to let my memory remain untainted. “Let me think about it,” I mumble.
She rolls her eyes. “You said it last time, and it’s been more than two weeks. You’ve got a manager now and the restaurant wouldn’t be that busy during the holidays, so what’s there to worry about?”
I press my lips together, not happy about her insistence and her accusatory tone.
“I’m sorry I don’t mean to be pushy,” Penny says, sensing my irritation. “But don’t take too long. The hotels are being booked fast.”
After Penny leaves, I contemplate on her proposal. Leaving the restaurant for two weeks? Crazy. Going on a trip with Penny? Insane. Then why? Why am I even considering it? The unforgettable scenery in Italy? Sure. The cherished memory of Olivia? Yes. And? The desperation of leaving my young temptress. Kayla has become my obsession for weeks since we were last together. I can’t punch my heavy bag without remembering fingering her in the basement. I can’t shower without imagining her giving me head. Shit. God only knows what effort I have to put in to remain calm and pretend nothing has happened between us. Every minute being with her is a torture. Her smile drives me crazy, and her scent is a drug to my manhood. The fact that she’s smart and learns everything about managing the restaurant within just a few days just intensifies my obsession for her. The more my body is attracted to her, the less my brain can function around her. The good thing, though, is that Kayla is keeping a distance between us, too. She must be having second thoughts. Good. She deserves better.
Minutes after Penny leaves, a young fellow approaches the door and peeks inside. He’s lean and tall. Short black hair parted neatly. The gold-rim glasses on the bridge of his straight nose mask his boyish look. He’s very handsome. After some hesitation, he opens the door and strides into the restaurant.
“How may I help you?” I ask.
“I’m looking for someone,” he says. “Does Kayla still work here?”
I become protective at once. Who’s he? Is he connected to Kayla’s last job?
“My name is Mike. We went to the same high school,” he says, setting me at ease. “I know Ivy, too. You must be her dad, Mr. Gibson?”
“I am,” I say. “Have a seat. She’ll be here soon.”
“Sure, thanks. Actually, I will order something to eat.” Mike sits down and picks up the menu.
The name rings a bell, although remotely. I slowly recall Kayla’s boyfriend back in high school. Ivy and Kayla spoke about him sometimes. He used to drop off Kayla at work over the weekends. In fact, I might’ve seen him once or twice. After the guy left for college in Boston, Kayla never dated again. He must’ve been the person who last kissed her. Damn. Could it mean she hasn’t forgotten him? And what the hell does he want? Have they been in touched? Not likely, because otherwise he would’ve known for sure she’s still working here.
I attempt to work on next week’s work schedule on my laptop but from my peripheral vision I observe the young man. From what I can see, he’s quite a catch. Despite my jealousy, I must admit that he and Kayla would make a beautiful couple.
“Good morning, Richard!” Kayla says as soon as she comes in. Before she heads toward the storeroom, the young man waves at her and her mouth falls.
“Mike!” she squeals as she runs toward him.
Mike stands up and the two hug. It’s brief, but I can’t help clenching my jaw.
“How do you know I still work here?” Kayla asks.
“I didn’t. I was just hoping you still were.”
“Oh my God,” Kayla says while giggling. “You look taller, and I like your glasses!”
“Really? They make me look like a geek.”
“Not at all! You look handsome.”
I slam the cover of my laptop down. It’s useless to try to focus. Numbers have never been so tedious. I engage myself in mindless tasks that are normally the part-time waiters’ responsibilities: checking keg levels, setting out clean glassware, stocking bottled beverages, and making sure I don’t smash the bottles on the granite counter. I could order Kayla to do these things too and get her away from her high school sweetheart, but I’m not an asshole.
“Chicken Lasagna with Alfredo sauce,” Kayla announces Mike’s order to the kitchen staff. When she fills the wineglass, she says to me, “Mike went to the same high school as Ivy and me. We were classmates.”
“Yes, he told me earlier,” I say, nodding and pretending I haven’t just been gutted by a fella whose existence I didn’t care about until ten minutes ago.
I pray for more customers to come in to distract me, but the morning has been unusually slow.
