Page 3 of Thanks for the Memories
I feel my face get hot. I’ve told them repeatedly that Dante and I are old friends, but everyone sees right through me. And even though Dante is super dreamy, I’m pretty sure he stills sees me as his good buddy Reagan. At least I think he does. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to spend as much time together as I’d like.
“I know,” Jeremy says, rolling his eyes. “And I already gave Chef Dante praise for his seared ahi. That should suffice.”
“I can’t believe you got Donut Giant again,” Gretchen scoffs.
Gretchen and Amanda have a similar conversation about Jeremy and the donuts which leads to more discussion about his abs. I don’t think any of them have an issue talking about those, not that I blame them.
I close out Golden’s website without opening the menu, but now Dante is on my mind. The truth is, I’ve had a huge crush on him for as long as I can remember. Dante has always been the nice guy who seemed unattainable. We hung out in the same friend group in college, but it was never more than some intense flirting.
Anyway, after college we all stayed friends but went our separate ways as many people do. Dante went to culinary school and moved to Miami. Coincidentally, I ended up here too. Dante and I talk about getting together all the time, but his focus on his new restaurant has made it difficult, which totally makes sense. And, unfortunately, I haven’t dated anyone since I moved to Miami. I guess I’ve also been focused on my job and, up until recently, finding a new place to live. Truthfully, my relationship history is pretty pathetic. Hopefully, being in a new place will spark something for me and I’ll finally have some success in that department.
After all the discussion about donuts, Golden, and Jeremy’s abs, we finally get to work. Our main focus right now is the cruise line convention and the opening of two new properties. I’m in the middle of answering emails when my phone rings. I sigh when I see my sister’s number on the screen. She calls me at least twice a day, and sometimes I wonder if she ever works. You’d think she’d be slammed all day long in her job. She’s the head of human resources for a software company, but every time she calls, she’s going on and on about a new influencer or fashion blogger she found online. She must either have a good team working for her, or her company has no HR issues.
Although if there’s one thing my sister is good it, it’s delegating. In fact, she used to be so good at it when we were growing up that I ended up doing most of the chores without even realizing it. I’m not sure how it happened, but as the younger sister I’d suddenly be sweeping while she’d be reading a magazine with her feet propped up on the table.
“What’s up?” I answer finally.
She launches into a story about an influencer who has a bunch of discount codes for designer shoes.
Like I was saying, the woman never works.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“At my office, why?”
“Just wondering.”
“I also wanted to ask if you’re free next weekend.”
“Possibly, why?”
“Evan and I have someone we want you to meet.”
I cringe. My well-meaning sister is always trying to play matchmaker, and while I appreciate her concern, I’m not interested. I’ve never been a person who has to be in a relationship. It would be nice, but I’m a firm believer that things will happen when they’re meant to.
“Again?”
“This time I think you’ll really like him.”
Hah, she’s said that about the last two men she’s tried to introduce me to.
One of them was probably the hottest guy I’d ever seen, but he waited about five minutes after my sister and brother-in-law left the restaurant to invite me to his apartment to get to know each other better. Hot or not—I’m not that kind of girl.
“I’ll let you know,” I say. “Besides, we have a hurricane to watch out for.”
“True.” She pauses. “Or … are you planning on hanging out at the restaurant again?”
I scowl at the phone. “First of all, I don’thangout there. I go to support my friend’s business.”
“You don’t have to get defensive.”
This conversation is going nowhere, fast.
“I have to get back to work,” I say.
“Oh yeah, me too. Let me know about Saturday.”
“Yep.”
