A Taste of You (5 page)

He sent a text.

Drinks after-hours?

Chapter Four

Two weeks later, Garrett stood at the far end of the line and watched as the kitchen turned out an array of picture-perfect dishes. They better be picture-perfect. As each dish was completed to his approval, it was whisked away to the dining room, not to be eaten and enjoyed, but to be staged and photographed by one of the top food photographers in the city.

He remembered when it felt odd to be an observer, not part of the actual kitchen brigade. But after months of training and judging young chefs on the set of
Ransom Me
, he no longer felt compelled to touch every plate personally. The urge to make minute adjustments still pushed at him, but he had learned to content himself with corrections at a higher level. Teaching his crew to turn out plates
almost
as good as his own was way more acceptable than being the crazy chef who tried to prepare every dish personally.

His fingers twitched as the next plate came up. Perfect sear on the sea scallops, a schmear of creamed asparagus sauce arched beautifully along one side of the plate, but the shaved fennel….He bit down hard on the side of his cheek to keep from interfering. Matt’s kitchen now, he reminded himself. He started breathing again when Matt reached up and pulled the plate off the pass. Like Hector, Matt remained calm as he meticulously removed the fennel and repositioned it correctly. Then he removed it again and had the offending chef re-plate the entire dish to his satisfaction. He accomplished the whole thing without reducing anyone to tears. Goody for him. Just one more reason for Matt to be in the kitchen and Garrett to work at a more developmental level.

As soon as Andi picked up the scallops and headed toward the dining room, Matt turned back to the kitchen.

“All right, everyone. Good job. We’re way ahead of the photographer, so let’s take five before we move on.”

The kitchen emptied almost instantly. Matt stood, hands on hips, and watched everyone else leave. He made his way to Garrett and propped himself against the counter. Despite the relaxed pose, the affable expression on his face had disappeared.

“I don’t know, dude. This isn’t working out.”

Garrett frowned at him. “What do you mean? Everything looks great.”

“Yeah, food’s good for now. But the staff….man, they really don’t like me. I can’t figure them out. I know I’m the new guy, but I can’t get a flow going with them.”

“Anyone said anything to you?”

“No, it’s not like that. Everyone’s polite; they do what I ask. There’s nothing I can really point to they’re doing or not doing.”

“What do you want me to do? I can’t fire someone for being polite and doing their job.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had this kind of trouble before. They all clam up when I’m around. It’s like a morgue on the line. There’s no chatter. The only time anyone says anything is when I address them directly.”

As if to emphasize his point, a burst of loud laughter erupted from the back.

Matt threw up his hands and gave Garrett a pointed look.

This was not his area. Carlo dealt with this type of thing, but Carlo had been making himself scarce lately. He was holed up in the office right now, which sounded like exactly where everyone was hanging on their break.

“Look,” Matt said, “I don’t know what I’ve done. If there’s some situation I don’t know about, I’d appreciate it if you would work it out. If it’s just me, I’m going to have to make some changes if they don’t come around soon. Once we’ve rolled out the new items and you’re gone, I’m going to need more cooperation than I’m getting from the zombie crew.”

Bloody hell
. Carlo would hit the roof if Matt tried to fire any of his precious staff. Garrett wasn’t sure if he had ever managed it himself. Ransom had turnover, of course, and somehow the blame usually landed at his feet. But he hadn’t actually asked any of them to leave. He just had exacting standards.

“I’m sure they’re still just getting used to you. If you have a problem with anyone in particular, let me know.” He would get Carlo to sort it.

Matt shrugged. “Sure, let’s give it some time. I just thought I should mention it.”

Matt didn’t sound like he thought the problem was going to magically fix itself, but he dropped the subject willingly enough. Unfortunately, he immediately picked a new one.

“So, want to go out tonight after service?” Matt slid one foot over next to Garrett’s and tapped suggestively, an invitation to flirt.

Garrett shifted away. Matt was, hands-down, the best breakup he had ever managed, but over was over. He tried to think of a polite excuse, but apparently Matt knew him better than he had thought.

“Hey, no sweat if you’re busy.”

He watched Matt walk away. Damn, the boy had a great ass. A month ago it had been all Garrett could think about. But he had no desire to go there again. Same problem as always.

There was always someone new, hot, exciting. They were together a day, a week, even a month sometimes. Then, nothing. He just wasn’t interested any more. If he got lucky, they drifted apart. Usually he wasn’t lucky. He seemed to attract high-maintenance men. There were scenes, tears, threats. A number of them had done the walking out, sure he would come after them. It had never happened.

An image of Carlo standing in his kitchen dripping with sweat flashed into his mind.

He replayed the scene. Carlo, hot and sweaty and angrier than Garrett had ever seen him. The sight of Carlo so worked up, in his skimpy running shorts and sweat-drenched shirt, had almost done him in. Carlo had been flushed from exertion and emotion, his wet hair had curled out of its usual precision style, and the way he smelled—pure male—had made Garrett’s mouth water. His dick was throbbing right now just thinking about it.

Carlo had been so pissed, and all Garrett had wanted to do was jump on him and show him how to work off some of that excess emotion.
Off-limits, off-limits, off-limits
. The mantra had made coherent speech almost impossible and been absolutely necessary.

So inappropriate to be thinking about that now, so what had put that scene in his head?

He had been thinking about his exes.

And, yes, he had gone after Carlo, but that was nothing like Matt and the others. Carlo was his best friend, his partner. Garrett would never, ever let him walk away in anger.

He wandered out toward the dining room. Andi and Hector were standing with their backs to him, watching the photographer. And, hey, maybe he didn’t need Carlo for this one after all. Nothing went on in Ransom without Andi and Hector knowing about it. Maybe he could solve this problem on his own.

He slowed when bits of the conversation drifted back to him. They weren’t talking about the photographer, and they didn’t sound happy.

“He’s so miserable. It’s been years. I don’t know why he doesn’t just move on.” That was Andi, the practical one.

“He’s in love. You know him, he’s not going to be able to just walk away.” Apparently Carlo was right. All Hector’s tattoos hid a massive romantic.

Garrett wondered who they were talking about. Someone here on staff, no doubt.

“I don’t know. The little shit might have finally pushed him a too far.” Andi sounded grim. “Giancarlo’s such an amazing guy. I hope he walks. He deserves better.”

Hector made some reply, but Garrett didn’t hear it. Giancarlo? His Carlo was in love? For
years
? With
who
? And why had he never told Garrett?

The guy sounded like an ass. Andi was right. Carlo deserved better.

He veered away from the dining room and into the bar.

Who?

He wanted to go demand the information from Andi and Hector, but that would reveal he hadn’t known about this asshole whom Giancarlo had apparently been seeing for
years
behind his back.

He grabbed a bottle of Pellegrino and a glass and made his way to booth nineteen in the far back corner. The office offered the only real privacy in the restaurant, and it was already occupied by Carlo. Booth nineteen was at least inconspicuous. He poured a glass of water, hunched into the corner, and tried to emit go-away vibes while he thought over this new information.

Was the guy married? In the closet? Just a general dick? What? And what had he done to Carlo that had made Hector and Andi so angry?

His mouth was dry so he took a sip of his water, which tasted weird and bitter. He examined the glass, trying to figure out where the funny taste was coming from, but it looked clean and sparkling.

How the hell had Carlo been in a long-term relationship that he knew nothing about? This couldn’t be something he had missed. Carlo had hidden this guy from him.

The bitter taste from the water spread, cramping his stomach, and suddenly he couldn’t sit still in the booth any more.

Andi caught him halfway across the dining room.

“The photographer wants some shots with you. Do you want to do that now?”

Not even a little.

“Have Matt do it.”

“But—”

“Did I stutter? There must be a million pictures of me already. Get some of Matt.”

“I’ll let him know.” Andi’s voice had gone glacial. Garrett couldn’t care less.

“Do that,” he snapped. “And have the ice bin drained and all the glassware re-cleaned. My water tasted off.”

She stared at him. “Of course, Chef, whatever you say.”

“Exactly.”

Chef.
She only went all formal like that when she was pissed. Did she think he hadn’t noticed?

He stopped talking before the situation could escalate any further and headed to the back. He had no clear idea of what he was going to do except he needed to see Carlo.

The crew had gone back in the kitchen, and Carlo was alone in the office. Garrett slowed as he approached. If he went barreling in, Carlo would want to know what was wrong. And what would he say?

He eased into the tiny office and shut the door behind him. Carlo sat at his desk, entering a stack of invoices into the computer.

“Hey, Sweets, how’s the shoot going?”

In Carlo’s distraction, his Brooklyn accent was more pronounced,
da shoot
. The familiar tone and cadence washed over Garrett’s frayed nerves, soothing and pricking at the same time. Suddenly, nothing about Carlo seemed familiar.

“Fine.”

Carlo shot a look sideways at him as Garrett lowered himself into the single other chair against the wall.

“You okay? You don’t need to be out there supervising or something?”

“I said they’re fine.”

Carlo frowned but picked up the next invoice and went on with his work.

Garrett watched him for a few minutes, trying to think of something to say. Something other than,
who the hell are you dating and why don’t I know about him
?

Carlo looked the same as he ever did. He was Carlo, who always knew how to talk him out of a mood, who kept things at Ransom running like a well-oiled machine, and who kept track of staff birthdays and families and every other damn thing.

And who apparently told everyone except Garrett his secrets.

Which brought him back around to The Little Shit.

He tried to imagine what kind of guy Carlo would fall for and came up blank. He had always assumed it would be someone who valued the same things Carlo did. Someone who would want to adopt a couple of kids and a dog and settle into happy domesticity. Some paragon that would help Carlo create the perfect family he deserved. Someone incredibly not like Garrett.

Instead, it was some ass-wipe so unacceptable that Carlo kept him hidden from his best friend. And what was the point of Garrett keeping his hands to himself all these years so Carlo could find a nice guy if he was getting fucked by this jerk instead?

Garrett ignored the voice in his head telling him that might not be the
exact
reason he had never tried anything with his partner.

Carlo sighed, swiveled his chair around to face Garrett and leaned back.

“Okay. What’s up?”

Garrett watched Carlo’s lips move. What would they taste like? And that pulse at the base of his throat? And that spot behind his ear? And…
no.
He did
not
think about these things.

But the thought of someone else knowing those things about Carlo, someone else running his tongue along the strong column of Carlo’s throat, someone who obviously didn’t give a shit about Carlo….

“Garrett?”

So he said the first thing that came into his mind. “What’s up with your bloody staff? Matt says they’re giving him a hard time.”

And, wow, he hadn’t meant that to come out so bitchy.

Carlo’s eyebrows shot up. “My staff?”

“You know what I mean.”

“What did he say is going on?”

So Garrett tried to explain what Matt had said, which was hard when he didn’t understand it himself, and was double-hard because normally Carlo explained this interpersonal shit to him. The whole thing felt wrong and weird, and it didn’t help that he couldn’t stop thinking about getting a taste, just a
taste,
of Carlo.

He must not have been making any sense at all because Carlo looked more and more uncomfortable the longer Garrett talked until he finally held up both hands.

“Enough. I’ll take care of it.”

“Right, then.” One problem solved, at least.

Except now he was back to staring at Carlo, with Carlo staring back at him as though he was waiting for him to say something else.

He fidgeted, trying to resist the compulsion to just ask what was going on. He wasn’t used to censoring himself around Carlo. But Carlo obviously didn’t want him to know this, so how was he going to find out what he wanted to know?

“Something else, Sweets?”

“We haven’t hung out much since I got back. Want to go out for dinner after service?”

“You’re offering to eat someone else’s food?”

“I pick the place.”

But Carlo shook head. “Not tonight. I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow, and I don’t want to be out too late.”