Page 27 of Falling for My Best Friend's Dad
Fires dance in his eyes as he spins me around and presses me against the fridge. He plunges into my mouth, ravishing me hungrily before kissing his way down and tasting every inch of me.
“Delicious,” Richard says after swallowing down a mouthful of omelet. “Maybe I should hire you for a chef instead.”
I laugh. “I could be both.”
“” You’re so talented,” he says smiling. “What can I do without you?”
His compliment and his intense blue eyes make me blush. I blink to clear the daze in my head and say. “I have some ideas for the new menu.”
He raises an eyebrow and swallows the food in his mouth. “Go on!”
“Chimichurri,” I say.
He arches a curious eyebrow. “Is it similar to presto sauce?”
I shake my head. “They are both green, but ingredients are very different. Presto sauce is mostly made of basil and pine nuts and olive oil. But Chimichurri is zestier. It needs lots of spices including parsley, oregano, cilantro, and garlic. My grandma also uses jalapeno. She mixes them with vinegar or lime juice. It’s great with shrimp, fish, chicken, or steak.”
“Sounds great,” he smiles. “Can you ask her for the recipes?”
“Of course,” I say. “But I know how to make most of the sauces.”
“Did you grandma grow up in Argentina?”
“Yes. She met my grandpa, who was a native San Franciscan, when he was traveling in Patagonia,” I say with a smile. It’s the most romantic story coming from anyone I know, and I can’t help but tell him the rest of the story. “She was his guide for two weeks. The last night of his trip, they camped in the mountains. They sat by the fire watching the stars pretty much the whole night because they didn’t want the night to end. And then my grandpa proposed to her, telling her he would like her to be his northern star for the rest of his life. And she did. They were married until my grandpa passed away eight years ago.”
“Wow! That’s quite a story!” Richard smiles. “Patagonia. Have you ever been there?”
I shake my head. “No. But I would love to one day. It’s my dream to hike the Andes.”
“Let me know when you decide to go, I would go with you,” he says.
“For real?” I squeal. And then I frown when I’m reminded something of his plan to travel. “When are you going to Italy?”
“Oh,” he pauses. “I’m not sure about it yet.”
“Why Italy?”
He pauses. “I’ve been there before, with Olivia. And I like it.”
Ah. So that’s it. He still can’t let go of Ivy’s mom. I’m not jealous, but I have to face the truth that Olivia has claimed him first, and maybe forever. I don’t have a chance to own his heart. I have no right at all to be jealous. In fact I loved Olivia as much as I loved my mom. She was the most generous, kind woman I knew. I still respect her. But it still hurts to know someone else owns the heart of the man who owns my heart.
I finish the rest of my breakfast in silence.
When Richard is doing the dishes, he breaks the silence. “So, have you decided what to do about your ex-boss?”
Shit. My stomach turns at the thought. “Err, I’m not going to file any lawsuit,” I say. “I’ll just quit and get my stuff back.”
He nods. “When are you going to do that?”
I swallow. This is something I prefer not to think about. I don’t have an answer.
“What about we go now?”
“We?”
“Yes. It’s on my way to the kitchen supply store in Japantown.”
“Are you sure? I’m supposed to open the restaurant at eleven.”
