Page 118 of Until August
“And what’s that?” I asked as she popped a strawberry into her mouth.
“You shine so bright, baby. Like the fucking star you are.”
She was using my own words on me. “He should have talked more about you than me. Fucking pissed me off when I read that,” I grumbled.
“That’s what makes you so amazing, August Harper. For someone with a giant-sized ego, you sure can be humble sometimes.”
I didn’t need a restaurant critic blowing smoke up my ass. And I didn’t think it was right that he’d dedicated an entire paragraph to me instead of the head chef. He made it sound like I was the only reason the restaurant earned his glowing review. Not cool. He could stuff his review up his ass for all I cared. “So you’re cool with everything?”
She put down her fork, giving up all pretenses of eating, and sat back with her eyes on me. “I’m happy with the review, August. The restaurant will be packed because of it, and even though I tried to tell myself his review didn’t matter and I’d be okay no matter what he said, it meant a lot to me. I didn’t want the acclaim for myself. I wanted it for my restaurant. I wanted to prove that I’d made a success of it. And a big part of being a successful chef/owner is hiring the right staff. I couldn’t have done this without you, August.”
“That’s bullshit. I don’t believe that for a minute. You’re an amazing chef—”
She held up her hand to stop me. “I don’t need you to tell me what I am. I know I’m good. But I also know that he was right to give me a bad review the first time. I’d let my passion fall by the wayside. I let my personal problems consume me to the point where I was trying to survive one day to the next. But you… you came along and reminded me why I chose to become a chef. You brought all this energy, and you changed the entire dynamic of my kitchen. You forced me out of my comfort zone and didn’t let me settle for good enough. I wouldn’t have been able to create that menu with anyone else but you. And I truly believe that. You did all that, August. So you deserve all the accolades that come your way.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure what to do with all the praise she was heaping on me. “You’re giving me way too much credit.”
“Someone has to. I think you’ve gotten too little credit for too long. You’re special, August. And you’re going to help us get that Michelin star.” Her eyes gleamed with excitement, and it was the most beautiful fucking thing I’d ever seen.
Nicola Benedetti Vega was coming back to life right before my eyes. The transformation was nothing short of remarkable. I wanted to capture the moment and save it for rainy days. So I snapped a photo on my phone and then another and another. Until she covered her face with her hands.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a laugh.
“When we get that Michelin star because we will, I’ll be able to show you the exact moment you decided to get back in the fight.”
“What am I fighting for?”
“Your life.”
“August,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears. “It does feel that way, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does.”
She was quiet, contemplating the changes in her life and the moment when everything shifted. It was a lot to take in. But I guess I could equate it to the moment I decided that I deserved to be in Sage’s life and would fight to keep him in it.
We were finding a way to move on and to forgive ourselves enough to accept the good things in our lives.
“I’m still not happy that you lied to me and tried to cover it up.”
“I was trying to protect you.” It dawned on me that Sasha had done the same thing with Sage, which had also backfired. I knew it wouldn’t fly with Nicola any more than it did with him.
“I’m not made of spun sugar. I won’t shatter. Just be straight, and don’t lie to me again.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
“Okay. But thank you.”
“For what?”
“For wanting to protect me. Even though I don’t need it, it’s nice that you cared enough to do it.”
I was starting to think I would do just about anything for Nicola.
I knew it was dangerous to care so much about her. To worry about her. To want to protect her from anything that might harm her. To want her in every way possible.
But I did absolutely nothing to stop it.
We ditched breakfast—it was cold now, anyway—and had sex on the kitchen counter. And again, in the shower.
