Page 80 of The Reno
“Kat—” Liam began, just as I blurted out, “So, have you always liked to cook—”
Liam stared at me for a moment before relenting. “Yes.”
“Nice. Cool.” I winced. Fucking freak. More silence. I played with the hair bobble on my wrist, looking anywhere but Liam. Eventually, I snuck a peek at him, only to find him looking at me, a smirk on his face, his arms wide across the kitchen worktops.The pan was slowly melting a knob of butter.
“You hate quiet, don’t you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Red.”
“Okay, yes. I hate it. Could you please just talk about something? Anything.”
“I wanted to be a chef.”
Oh. I hadn’t expected that.
“Before the pandemic, I was about to open a restaurant with my brother. Ren and I had signed a lease on a unit just around the corner. We’d built the concept and planned the menus. Ren was going to be the general manager and oversee the bar. I would be in the kitchen. The one thing—the only thing I had to do was tell my dad. I was dreading it. I put it off. So when the pandemic happened… well, it felt like a sign. The worst timing in the world to open a hospitality business. It wasn’t a good time to take risks. So, I was saved from having to tell Dad.”
I tried not to get distracted by Liam’s forearms as he grated cheddar, spread a dark red paste onto the bread and assembled them into sandwiches.
“I can’t imagine being that close to something you wanted so badly.”
Liam shrugged, but I could see the sadness in his eyes, even as he glanced away.
“Would you do it again?” I asked. “If you had the chance?”
Liam placed the sandwiches onto the hot pan, making it sizzle.
“I let him down.”
“Who?”
“My brother. I let him down. It’s the reason he up and left the country. He’d quit his job—” Liam hissed as he accidentally burnt himself, turning over the toasty with his hands. I jumped up, striding over to him, instinctively.
“Careful,” I chided as I got a closer look at his hand, which was red and irritated.
“It’s fine, Red.” He smiled when I met his gaze. “I do it all the time.”
We stared at each other a moment, and I wondered if he was also aware of the last time we stood this close, in this kitchen. Liam was the first to look away, turning to flip over the second toasty, more careful not to burn himself this time.
“You should talk to him,” I said after a few seconds. “About the restaurant. If it’s something you want to do.”
Liam was quiet for a moment and then said, “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Do you still want to do it?”
“I think about it all the time.” He kept his gaze down, and his cheeks flushed like he was confessing to something embarrassing. “I think about menus before bed. Wake up the next day wanting to test them out at home.” He shook his head. “But it’s my fault. I chickened out.”
“You should talk to him even if it’s just an excuse to make things right. I know I wish I had with Dad. Before it was too late.”
Liam turned to me. “Okay, Red, if it makes you happy. I will.” His tone didn’t sound… happy. It was almost resigned. He stared down at the pan; one side of the toasty was a golden brown, the other sizzling away.
“You avoided me today.”
“I—”
“Why?” He turned to face me, his expression frank and earnest. He was so bloody direct. I took a deep breath in.
