Page 57 of For Butter or Worse
Jasmine rubbed mousse on her palms, and then twisted pieces of Nina’s hair. “Probably. My parents are going to be delighted to know that I’m finally listening to them.”
“Are you delighted, too?” Nina asked.
“I just need to make sure they’re clear that this is my area of expertise, not theirs. If they’ll be micromanaging me the entire time, I can’t handle that.”
“Fair.”
Jasmine washed her hands in the sink. “I’ve gotta head back before the sous chef starts to think she owns the place. We’ve got another packed dinner tonight.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me there?” Nina asked. Halloween night at the restaurant was always fun—the kitchen staff wore subtle costume bits, like cat ears. They had a special menu and Nina came out at the end of every meal with pumpkin truffles for each table. Leo would have understood—business was business—but at the same time, she’d also be disappointed to miss the night out with him. She’d been looking forward to it, shockingly enough.
“We will miss you, but we’ll be fine. You’re allowed a night off, and this is technically work for you. Keep it up, we need the customers.” Jasmine packed up her makeup bag, which was actually a backpack stuffed to the top with supplies. “Text me if you need a rescue.”
And then Nina was alone and waiting for Leo. If you’d told her last year that she’d be spending her favorite holiday with this man, she would’ve rolled her eyes so hard they’d be permanently in the back of her head. But now, all she wanted was to discover the big surprise he had in store for her. He hadn’t given her any hints via text. All she knew was that he’d planned the date—no itinerary from Tom allowed.
The doorbell rang. Coincidence? Had he sensed that she was having a moment of weakness and chosen to strike just then? But then she saw the shape of the man standing behind the frosted glass.
Charlie.
She froze. It was too late for Nina to pretend she wasn’t home. And, fuck it, because if there was ever a time to face him, it should be when she looked this good.
She opened the door wide, but kept one hand firmly planted on her hip. She looked him up and down, trying to channel her best who-the-hell-are-you? look. “What are you doing here?” She said it more as an accusation than a question. But her voice caught in her throat as she took in the full force of him.
Damn. He looked even better than he had at the outdoor festival. Too good.
To be fair, Charlie had always been the master of the rugged-and-handsome-without-having-to-try look, like a biker with a wardrobe budget. That old familiar smell of his—honey and mint—hit her instantly, and her body’s only response was to sway. It was the same feeling she’d had the first time they’d met, an instant attraction that made her take a step closer instead of a step back.
And what he was wearing didn’t help the situation. He’d always run hot, and despite the cooler air, he was in a short-sleeved green cotton shirt that left his chiseled arms exposed for Nina to goggle at. His broad shoulders only emphasized his tapered waist, and his dark-wash jeans just hit the tops of his motorcycle boots.
“I saw your car in the driveway,” he said. His voice was thick, the way it always was, like he hadn’t had coffee yet. “Where are you off to, looking like that?” His eyes roamed over her, taking all of her in.
Miss me much?Why shouldn’t he be jealous? She looked sexy as hell, and he couldn’t have her anymore.
“I’ve been saving this dress since we broke up, just hoping you’d show up,” Nina finally said. She’d attempted a joke, but it sounded like she was still hurt, like she wasn’t actually over him. And shewasover him, wasn’t she?
“I should’ve come sooner.” Charlie closed the distance between them. He ran the back of his knuckles across her bare arm. “Can we talk?”
She shivered at his touch, which was irritating.
She could imagine a lot of things Charlie might want to discuss, and they all revolved around him. So he probably wanted to ask her a favor, or maybe he had an opinion about the state of her career—a topic he loved weighing in on.
“The last time you asked me if we could talk, you told me you couldn’t be with someone who was...how did you phrase it? ‘Inauthentic’?” Nina crossed her arms over her chest, fully aware that it would make her cleavage pop. That last conversation they’d had was exactly why she’d broken up with him. She didn’t want to stand alongside a man who belittled her career and goals.
She wished Leo had come early to spare her from this confrontation. Or that she had one of those dogs that barked at evil men to warn her not to go near. And even though she could’ve easily walked back inside and waited for Leo, her history with Charlie kept her there.
She’d broken up with him because immediately after she’d signed on to do the show, his attitude toward her had turned from dismissive to rude. He didn’t agree with her choice to go mainstream, and he’d started making passive-aggressive, then just plain aggressive, remarks about how she was ruining her career.
He wasn’t entirely wrong. When she’d opened up a third restaurant, it meant that the quality control she’d had over the food coming out of each kitchen diminished. He knew she wanted to be recognized with a Michelin star, and he’d argued the best way to do that would be to focus on one spot at a time. After all, Charlie was a chef, too, and his restaurantdidhave a Michelin star—two of them.
She hadn’t listened to his advice. She’d gone for a big impact, and she’d never gotten a star. What shehadbeen given was a spot on a show with a man who’d given her a reputation problem, even if he’d done so by accident. So who was right in the end?
Rather than stay, try to resolve their issues, or even hear him out, she’d left. And they hadn’t had a long, on-again, off-again breakup. When she ended a relationship, she was done. So maybe he wanted closure, or something else entirely—she could at least hear what he had to say.
“I’ve missed you a lot.” He was many things, but open with his feelings was not one of them. The man hadn’t even cried when she’d made him watchSteel Magnoliaswith her. Him saying he missed her was the equivalent of getting down on one knee. “You and I need to talk, and I’m not leaving until we do.”
Nina could tell he meant business by the way his legs were firmly planted. Still, she didn’t care—he had no right showing up at her doorstep. She was just glad he’d picked the day that she looked edible from head to toe.
“You have one minute and then I’m going inside to wait for mydate.” She emphasized the last word.
