Calla's Kitchen Read online

  “You must be Calla?” Beside me stands a tall, good-looking man in black.

  He has the look of a man who knows his way around a room, and a woman. My guess is he’s a bartender, which means he knows he is hot, and therefore, will be an ass. Adam has taught me this. He’s always told me that typically owners find bartenders that know their shit and have good looks, so that the people at the bar will buy more drinks. Now, I can’t resist testing that theory. This man has electric blue eyes that I can’t stop staring at, dark hair, a square jawline, and from what I can tell with his clothes on, a sculpted chest.

  “Yes, I’m Calla,” I murmur.

  “I’ll be your server. I’m Cole, the head bartender.”

  Yep. There it is. The head bartender. Which means he knows how to make drinks well, and the girls throw themselves at him. Being hot, and knowing how to get a girl drunk, is a lethal combination that just isn’t right.

  Despite how good-looking he is, I don’t feel the need to fawn all over him. In fact, while I still find him delicious to stare at, I know I could never keep him for long.

  At least I’m finally thinking about jumping into something again.

  “Hi Cole. I suppose you know why I’m getting this treatment?” I watch his face change as he thinks about it.

  “Yes, ma’am. But, I think I’ll let Chef tell you that when he comes out. Would you like something from the bar?”

  “Can I start out with a glass of your best Pinot?” I smile.

  “Coming up.” Cole winks and strides off.

  I watch him as he walks away, unable to help myself. He has a great muscular body. Added to that, his pants show off a baseball player’s shaped ass. Between the eyes and body, I can’t concentrate on the menu, or the ideas for Belladonna I wanted to work out while having a night off.

  It takes Cole about ten minutes to get back to me. Not that I care. I am enjoying watching the staff in the front of the house. It is something I never get the chance to do, nor have I ever really wanted to. But I have to admit, people-watching from this vantage point is fun. For the most part, I like hiding in my kitchen and never coming out. In my kitchen I can manage who comes and goes. Sometimes I wonder if it is an anxiety I have that has me hating being around people, or if I’m just that much of an introvert. Finally, I stop watching the hustle and bustle and pick up the menu again.

  When Cole brings my glass of wine over, he sits down.

  “So, I’m guessing you took the night off?” He smiles a crooked smirk of a smile.

  I place the menu on the table and give him my full attention.

  He definitely thinks he’s hot shit. And now, as he is sitting with me, I am able to see him in more detail. He has short, medium-dark blonde hair that is slightly spiked, and a strong square jawline with a little scruff outlining the bone. His nose is slightly off center, and button-shaped. Then there are his eyes, again, which are the perfect shape and size for his face. I can admit he is hot shit, alright.

  I take a long, deep look into those captivating eyes once more then look away. That’s what keeps the girls coming. He reminds me of my own bar manager, and why I put up with all his issues.

  “I think you know the answer to that.” I raise my eyebrow, as I stare into his eyes.

  “Good point. What brings you out of your kitchen tonight?”

  “My friends, actually. They said I needed a night off and wouldn’t take no for an answer. In fact, they made this reservation for me, so I’m not sure what they said.”

  “You let your friends kick you out of your own kitchen?” Cole questions, a thread of surprise in his voice.

  “When they help me run Belladonna, yes. Two are my head chefs, and the other is the bar supervisor. I trust them fully.” I shift in my chair.

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to be nosy. I’ve just never met a chef like you before. Especially one with your credentials.”

  I bite my lip, frowning.

  “Cole, I need some drinks poured,” someone says behind me.

  “Look over the menu, and I’ll be back. Enjoy your drink, and let me know if I can get you anything else in the meantime.” He taps the table once with his hand before leaving.

  Breathing out a much-needed deep breath, I reach for my menu again, this time deciding what I am going to try.

  “Is this seat taken?” A male voice interrupts my musings.

  I close my menu once more and place it back on the table. A six-foot tall bald Creole man stands next to a chair at my table. He is dressed in slacks and an open chef’s coat.

  “It’s not.”

  He slides into the chair.

  “Have you ordered yet, Cher?” the man asks.

  “I have not. I’m just waiting for Cole to come back and take my order.” I gesture behind me with my thumb, toward the bar.

  As if saying his name could conjure him, Cole appears next to me.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, Calla. I can take your order when you’re ready.” Cole stands a bit straighter than before, and his carefree attitude is nowhere to be seen.

  “Cole, I’ll take Calla’s order,” the man commands, his creole accent thick.

  “Emile, I didn’t expect you to come out until later. If you need anything, I’ll be at the bar.” Cole leaves again.

  “Emile, why do I get the feeling you usually don’t sit with the customers, or take the food orders?”

  “I heard you were a no-nonsense kind of girl,” Emile responds with a slight chuckle. “I’m Emile Castille. My wife, Cora, and I own Canaille.”

  I hold out my hand, and Emile takes it, raises my hand to his lips, and kisses my knuckles. I furrow my brow.

  “It’s very nice to meet you Calla,” Emile states, releasing my hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you as well,” I reply.

  “Your dinner will be out shortly. Cora and I whipped up something special for you. She and I will stop by a little later to check on you. I hope you enjoy what we’ve created.” He gives me a big smile.

  “I’m sure I will,” I comment before taking a sip of my wine.

  About fifteen minutes after Emile returns to his kitchen, servers arrive at the table carrying a few small Tapa plates. I don’t have a clue what any of the names of the appetizers are, but one does have shrimp in it. The spices have my mouth watering before I even take a bite.

  The first bite explodes in my mouth with all the delicious flavors. It has me grabbing and opening my clutch for my phone to take pictures of everything they have brought out. I also type out some notes, as Emile and Cora’s food fires up new ideas for Belladonna.

  I send a text message to Adam, Trey, and Wes.

  Calla: Damn guys! Have you tried their food? It’s amazing! Thank you for making me come out tonight.

  Trey: Darlin’, you’re more than welcome. Now tell me what you decided to order.

  Calla: I didn’t order. Emile and Cora made me something special.

  Wes: How did they know who you were?

  Trey: I put the reservation under her name.

  Calla: Everyone has been overly friendly. Except the hostess when I first walked in.

  Trey: The person I made the reservation with did ask a lot of questions. Maybe that has something to do with the friendliness.

  Calla: Maybe. My next course just got here so I’ll text later.

  Adam: Take pictures. I want to see what has you saying the food is amazing.

  Calla: Done.

  I snap a picture of the new course and send the pictures to the group. With each course that follows, I do the same. With every picture sent, the guys send back questions about the food, the atmosphere, and the service. It gives me the impression that they are taking notes, as well. Or seeing how invested I am becoming. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have gotten so excited about food. Not until Ella showed up, and we had the mac and cheese cook-off in the kitchen, with Ella as our helper and judge.

  I had so much fun cooking that afternoon.

  Hell, in the last year
, my appetite has changed so much that I don’t eat nearly as much as I should. The only reason I need a size ten in the dress I am in is for my breasts.

  My eating habits are going to change. I love food, and I should only be running to keep from getting unhealthy, like I used to when I would eat whatever I wanted.

  As I finish eating, Emile and Cora come by my table to chat for a few minutes. They still have a full house, so they can’t stay long. I invite them to stop by Belladonna sometime soon.

  “Goodnight, Cole. Thanks for taking care of me.” I wink at him as I head out into the night.

  Chapter 8

  Wes

  The dinner rush can’t end fast enough. I’d been a total ass when Calla had dropped in Belladonna before she went out. And I am the biggest reason she had today off. But damn! That dress made my blood boil. It hugged her in all the right places. It took everything I had in me not to go to her, throw her over my shoulder caveman style, take her to the office, and fuck her senseless. However, that is definitely not how I want our first time to go. Not to mention, I have to get Zoe out of the picture first. Calla will never be the other woman. But the reality is, Zoe was always the other woman. The one I have been using for sex, while all along, I’ve really only wanted Calla.

  At that thought, my stomach twists.

  The kitchen door swings open, and instead of a server, Adam stalks in. He is glaring as he marches up to me.

  “We couldn’t have this conversation before with Calla here, or with Nessa in the room, but what the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Trey steps around his table, crossing his arms over his chest, and not looking the least bit happy, as he joins Adam. I scrub my face with both hands.

  “Do we have to have this conversation right now? We still have orders coming in and a full restaurant.”

  “Dude, your rude ass needs to explain. Now. Besides, they,” Trey gestures to the other kitchen staff, “can handle the food for a few minutes while we talk.”

  “Her dress, okay?! It took me by surprise, and I don’t want anyone to see her in it but me. I know it’s irrational, but damn it, I--”

  “Then stop fucking around and talk to her!” Adam yells. “Insisting on her dating, and more specifically getting laid, was your damn idea. All Ben said was to get her back to normal. If you can’t deal then grow a pair!” Adam huffs, turns, and storms out.

  Trey pats my shoulder. “He has a point. But, I can also see why you want her to date, or at least fuck, one other person. I get it. You don’t want to be the rebound. What you need to realize is that she wouldn’t see you as a rebound. Calla would never use you like that.” He removes his hand then punches me in the shoulder.

  I rub my shoulder even though Trey didn't hit me that hard. Hell, that was a love tap. We spar most days before work, so I’ve felt the real deal from him. Still, it’s enough to get my attention.

  “I also need to make sure she knows Zoe isn’t in the picture anymore. I don’t want Calla to have any thoughts that I’m cheating, or that I’m not serious about her. She’s always been one of the guys, and she likes being that in a lot of ways. So the few times I’ve actually shown my interest in her, she never caught on.”

  “Then you’re doing it all wrong, man.” Trey smirks as he walks back to his prep area.

  I don’t have time to give Trey’s words their proper consideration as a rush of orders come in, and the kitchen is slammed. In fact, it doesn’t slow down until closing time, and by then, I just want a beer.

  The bouncer bumps fists with Trey, followed by Adam then me. As we enter the multi-level club and bar that our friend, Rex, owns, Luke Bryan’s Crash My Party fills the room. I drum my fingers against my right leg to the beat, as I shove my way through the packed bar.

  Are the other floors this packed?

  For a Wednesday night there is a big enough crowd that me and the guys could get lost in. At least here the bartenders make strong drinks. And after the day I just had, I need a stiff drink. Or ten.

  Rex stands behind the bar, flirting with a half dozen women.

  “Looks like Rex has his hands full,” Trey mentions as he passes me and sidles up to the bar.

  I do a slight two-finger wave to get Rex’s attention. I want a drink, and I want it now. Before I know it, a craft beer is placed in front of me.

  “Thanks, man. Can I also have a double Jameson?” I request.

  “Hey good looking. I can get you whatever you want,” a cute redhead behind the bar pipes up. She must be the new girl Rex told me about, since I know I haven't seen her before. Granted, I haven't been in here in weeks, so he could've hired more than one new person.

  “Teagan, Wes is off limits. As is Trey. And Adam over there. Y’all this is Teagan, my new assistant manager.” Rex studies someone over my shoulder. “Oh, snap! Is he standing next to Calla?” Rex says, moving to bump fists with Trey and me.

  Heart racing, I whip my head around to find Adam inching up to Calla who is surrounded by a group of guys. Adam slides his arm around her shoulder before kissing her temple. Within a few minutes, the guys that are surrounding her move on to other tables. I raise my beer in Adam’s direction.

  When did she get here? I didn't think Trey told her where we were going.

  “You need to let her have some fun, and you know it,” Rex admonishes.

  I narrow my eyes at Rex. “Just give me two more beers for Adam, so he can drink and have plenty of time to get them out of his system before he heads home to Nessa. What is Calla drinking tonight?”

  “He’s a bit touchy,” Trey adds.

  “I see that,” Rex responds. “Her usual. I’ll make her another.”

  I flip them off.

  “Bitch at three o’clock,” Rex mutters under his breath.

  “Wes! There you are baby. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.” Zoe’s squeaky voice grates in my ears.

  Rex puts two more beers on the bar, and Trey grabs them.

  “See you in twenty, if you can get rid of her.” Trey pats my shoulder before pulling off the bar and moving through the crowd.

  “Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were coming here? I would have been here sooner,” Zoe whines.

  “I’ll just send this over to the table.” Rex finishes pouring Calla’s drink.

  “Oh, I can take my drink, Rex.” Zoe holds out her hand.

  “It’s Calla’s three wise men.” Rex smirks.

  Zoe sputters.

  Just then, Teagan comes to stand next to Rex and pours a triple Jack.

  “Calla’s here? No wonder you didn’t tell me to meet you. I’ll take that. She can get her own damn drink.” Zoe takes the drink off the bar and drinks deeply.

  Teagan rolls her eyes.

  Zoe coughs and gags. “What the hell is that?”

  Rex laughs. “A three wise men…” Rex enunciates. “Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels.” He holds up a finger for each whiskey. “Now, I need to make Calla another, and you’re paying for that one.”

  “Wes will pay for it,” she croons.

  “No, he won’t. You will.”

  “But, I’m with him,” she whines, leaning into me.

  “Really?” Teagan mouths.

  I laugh and try to cover it with a cough. Rex and Teagan smile as they mix more drinks. Rex starts on Calla’s three wise men, and Teagan creates something similar, but I don’t know exactly what it is.

  “Look Zoe, I know for a fact that you and Wes aren’t together anymore. Now, if you don’t pay for the drink you just took, that wasn’t yours in the first place, I will call the cops and you will be kicked out of here,” Rex tells her as he pours.

  “You can’t do that!” She looks at me. “Can he? Why would you tell him we aren’t together? This is just a fight. We’ll get past it.” She’s still whining.

  “He owns this place so, yes, he can do all of that to you. As for why I told him what was going on is because he's a friend and like a brother to me. Hell, Trey knows too, and soon
Adam and Calla will.”

  Teagan pushes the drink she’s blended over to me.

  “Your friend will like this one, too. It’s on me. If it’s the chick I think it is, she’s looking hot in that dress. And she has been holding her own. Not to mention she put up with my grumpy ass this morning.”

  “Teagan here watches after all the women that come in alone. Calla gave her shit when she ordered her drink. Mind you, Teagan didn’t think a chick like Calla could handle the drink she ordered, because she ordered a double. They did a shot together to clear the air. They did a shot of 1800 Silver.” Rex shakes his head. “Wait… this morning?” Rex questions Teagan.

  “Actually, it was Cabo Wabo. She told me I didn’t have to do the 1800,” Teagan informs him. “Yeah, we live in the same building. The same floor too.”

  Rex and I burst out laughing.

  “She decided to go easy on you then. Especially if it was just one shot,” I smile.

  “Rex, how much was her drink?” Zoe glares as she interrupts us.

  “For one of Calla’s, it’s eighteen fifty,” Rex gloats.

  “What? How can that be eighteen fifty? It's nasty.” Zoe’s eyes widen, and she almost shrieks.

  “Because I gave her a double, and it’s all top-shelf whiskey. So yeah, it's expensive for a shot. Wes, we’ll send over a few more beers for you and Trey.” Rex glowers at Zoe.

  I tip my beer toward Rex as a thank you before picking up the other three drinks and walking off. I sneak through the crowd as if they part just for me, never spilling a drop of the alcohol. I deposit the drinks on the small round table before giving Calla a quick side hug.

  “The new bartender mixed you this one,” I push the drink in front of her, “and Rex made you another three wise men.”

  Calla blinks.

  “I think those two are trying to get me drunk. Rex keeps having drinks delivered. He seems to have forgotten that I haven’t been out in a few months,” Calla says.

  “Or he’s trying to get up your skirt,” Adam quips, clinking his beer to her glass.