Page 339 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“Okay, I need some food,” I say as I head toward the door.
“You want a tomato sandwich?” Nate calls after me. “Sorry, man. I should have brought you one.”
“Nah, I think I’m going to head out, actually.”
Nate stiffens. “Where to?”
I sigh. My personal protection officer does not like it when I go places alone. Even in Silver Creek.
“Just to Lennox’s,” I say, deciding on the spot. “I’ll be fine on my own. I promise.”
I don’t wait long enough for him to respond. Instead, I hurry out of my office and into my kitchen, where I grab my keys and a beat-up baseball cap from the hook by the garage door. I cram the hat on, then hurry out to my truck.
Is this really what my life has become?
Conversations about faking out the media and throwing off persistent exes?
Is it really too much to ask that I justlikea woman, date her, then settle down without all this extra drama? I know there are actors in Hollywood who justact,who focus on their art withoutgetting distracted by all the noise. Can I justbeone of them? Can I let all this other stupid stuff go?
Ten minutes later, I pull up to the backside of Hawthorne, Lennox’s restaurant, craving, more than anything else, a conversation about something besides my own stupid life.
The public parking on the opposite side of the restaurant was slam full when I drove past, and I don’t love the idea of navigating a crowded dining room, so I’m hoping if I sneak in the back and find Lennox, he’ll be able to feed me without making a scene.
I push through the back door and slowly make my way toward Lennox’s kitchen. The Stonebrook Farm catering kitchen occupies the back half of the building, but it’s quiet tonight, so there must not be anything going on at the farm.
I pause at the back of Lennox’s kitchen. It takes me a minute to find him, but when I do, a burst of pride fills my chest. He’s clearly in his element, doing something he loves to do. It’s also clear that every single person in this room is tuned into him, listening to his instructions, paying attention to every single word that comes out of his mouth.
Until someone turns and seesme.
Awareness moves across the kitchen like a wave, and suddenly all is quiet as everyone turns to stare.
Lennox is the last to notice. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, but then his eyes meet mine. “Oh.He’sgoing on,” he says dryly. He tugs a dish towel off his shoulder and drops it onto the counter. “Okay, let’s all say hi to Flint together so we can get back to work, yeah?”
Laughter echoes around the room, then a few voices call out, “Hi, Flint.”
I lift a hand, offering Lennox an apologetic smile. “Hey, y’all. Sorry to interrupt.”
“Trust me,” a female voice says from across the kitchen. “Wereallydon’t mind.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Lennox says. “Zach?” He gestures to a guy standing off to his left. “Cover for me?”
“You got it, Chef.”
“Sorry,” I say as soon as Lennox reaches me. “This seemed easier than trying to get a table out there.” I motion toward the dining room.
Lennox claps me on the back. “No worries. Are you hungry?”
“Is that totally obnoxious? To just show up and expect you to feed me?”
“Itisa restaurant, Flint.”
“I know. But I don’t want to cause any trouble. Or, I don’t know. Expect special treatment.”
Lennox looks at me funny, then grins. “Are you feeling okay? I kinda thought special treatment was your jam.”
I roll my eyes. “Trust me. Sometimes it gets really old.”
“Come on,” Lennox says. “I’ll take a break and eat with you. You can wait in my office while I make us plates.”
