Page 40 of Thanks for the Memories
“That’s because your hostess hasn’t been feeding you,” I reply with a laugh.
“Very true,” she says, not looking up from the menu. “We should’ve had Dante come to the house and cook for us.”
Just then the door opens, and there he is. Dante catches my eye and waves. Of course, he’s as handsome as ever.
“He’s here,” I breathe.
Bethany looks toward the door, and a huge smile spreads across her face. She practically jumps to her feet and races to greet him. When she does, she leaps into his arms, and he wraps his arms around her. He looks both stunned and pleased. And why wouldn’t he? Bethany looks almost angelic in her white dress.
I don’t move from my seat because I’m not sure what to do next.
After Bethany and Dante finish hugging, he gives her a similar look that Kennedy and I gave when we first saw her. The changes are that significant—it’s kind of difficult not to stare.
“Hey, you,” he says. when they return to the table. He leans down and gives me a kiss on the cheek. A very sweet,friendlykiss.
Not that I expected him to pull me into his arms and passionately kiss me while telling me he’s missed me more than anything over the last few weeks. Okay, maybe I was hoping for something like that—just not expecting it.
Dante lets out a sigh and looks back and forth between us.
“You two back together again—the dynamic duo. I don’t think Miami is ready for this.”
Bethany and I look at each other and grin.
“And you,” he points to Bethany. “You look—I barely recognized you at first.”
Okay, admittedly this is a little awkward, but what can I say—she does look fantastic. And the dress looks like it was made especially for her.
“Me? You look great, too,” Bethany gushes. “And I’m so proud of you—I’ve heard so many great things about Golden from Reagan. I can’t wait to try it.”
Dante looks at me, his lips curling up into a smile.Man, it’s good to see him.
Ugh. This can’t be normal to still be attracted to him after all these years. There’s a part of me that wishes I could turn these feelings off or push them out of my brain.
The server stops by the table to drop off drinks and take our order. I chug my entire glass of water in hopes of getting rid of my dry mouth.
“I was just telling Reagan that we should’ve had you come over to cook for us,” Bethany says. “She told me you spent a whole day preparing meals for her and the roommates. It sounds like you’re still the sweetest guy ever. I’d love to see you at work in the kitchen again.”
Oh, my gosh.
Dante’s cheeks turn a shade of pink. “I was happy to do it.”
Seriously. This is so weird. Thankfully, Bethany seems oblivious to anything beyond us hanging out and Dante cooking for my us, and I’d rather keep it that way for now instead of getting into an awkward discussion.
“So, how are things at the restaurant?” I ask, changing the subject from Dante.
It takes him a few seconds to answer.
“It’s been crazy, but I can’t complain. It’s better than the alternative.”
“You did it,” Bethany squeals, placing her hand on his. “How does it feel to be a hotshot chef in Miami, of all places?”
I can’t help but notice that Bethany doesn’t remove her hand from his.
He looks back and forth between Bethany and me as he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
“Surreal,” he responds a few seconds later. “I’ve put everything I had into Golden. My whole life is that restaurant right now.”
“And it should be,” she insists. “Reagan has told me how hard you’re working to make Golden a success. I really admire your motivation and drive. You’re giving it your all, and that’s so admirable.”
