Page 29 of Fresh Start
I got up and left the garden just as my stomach protested. I’d skipped breakfast so that I didn’t bump into Leo, but now, I was regretting it.
It was almost time for lunch, and the longer I walked to get back to the B&B, the hungrier I got.
I passed by a restaurant with deep blue decor and fishnets up on the walls and ceiling. A big sign over the door informed me this was the Oyster Club, and some of their tables were already taken. I let myself in and was seated in a booth with a mostly undisturbed sea view.
The waiter placed the menu in front of me, filled up my water, and left me to decide on lunch.
There was a blue circle around one dish, and in block capital letters said that this was their special.
It was called the pearl stew and included mussels, potatoes, and king prawns in a lemon and white wine sauce. The description made my mouth water, so once the waiter was back, I placed my order, along with a beer from the local brewery.
This trip was proving more of a challenge than I’d have thought, and that wasn’t an entirely bad thing. Seeing Leo again was definitely unexpected, but it was good after all these years. It gave me a chance to try and make up for the past and my mistakes. And the present ones too.
I had promised Summer to join them on their butterfly tour, so maybe that would be the perfect chance to do it. He wouldn’t dare snap at me in front of his niece, so he’d have less ammunition to use against me.
The sea, the view, and my own thoughts distracted me long enough to not notice when the waiter sat someone else at the booth next to mine. Only they did notice me. And they weren’t happy.
“You gotta be kidding me. Are you following me or something?” Leo exclaimed when the waiter left.
I let out a sigh. Just when things were starting to be peaceful. Why was Leo always so angry? I know what I’d done was unacceptable, but it was years ago. We’d both moved on and found success. Why couldn’t he let it go? Or did he simply hate me that much?
“Technically, I was here first. So your statement is wrong,” I said.
“Whatever, dude. Whatever,” Leo said and turned his head around to his own booth.
I reluctantly turned to my front, too, and tried to get him out of my mind, but now it was harder than ever before. Despite my best efforts, all I could hear was his tapping nails on the table, all I could smell was the mix of deodorant and sweat from his workout, and all I felt on the back of my neck was that tingling sensation you got when someone was close to you.
My dick hardened in my pants, and I bit my lip before I could swear at the damned thing. Of all the times to awaken, this wasn’t the best. But I guess better now that I was seated waiting for food than during yoga. That would have been humiliating.
“What can I get for you?” the waiter asked behind me, and I leaned back to listen to the details I didn’t need, but which I was too weak to not try and hear.
“I’ll have the pearl stew and a large Coke, please,” Leo said, and his voice was intoxicating, a melody in my ears.
Without meaning to, I brushed the tip of my cock through my pants, and that made it jolt.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that. I’d never ever done that. Not in public for sure. The danger of getting my shots snapped by paparazzi had always kept me on my best behavior. I couldn’t even imagine the shame if anyone got me in the tabloids touching myself in public.
“Right away,” the waiter said, and his shoes tapped away from the table.
I put both my hands firmly on the table and consciously warded off everything that made me want to turn around and kiss the hell out of the guy that had stolen my heart once.
The shoes approached again.
“Here’s your Cola. I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid we’ve run out of the pearl stew. We won’t have another batch ready for at least an hour. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Leo huffed and snapped the menu from the waiter before he changed his order to something else. Just then, a waitress arrived at my table and put down my dish.
“Here’s your pearl stew. Would you like any fixin’s?” she asked.
I shook my head, and she left my table. The dish was served in a casserole on a wooden platter with some bread on the side and smelled divine.
Maybe I could apologize now. I could offer him my stew and let that be the figurative olive branch between us. As much as I salivated at the smell and sight alone, I grabbed the platter and turned around.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Leo said, his face right on mine.
“What are—”
“You’ve gotta take everything for yourself. First my career, then my table, my yoga class, and now my stew. Why don’t you take my family, too, and get it over with already?” he said, raising his voice.
