Her Valentine Fantasy Page 9
By rearranging the seating they’d squeezed two extra tables in. He didn’t like doing it, but now two very happy couples were off the waiting list. One was a guy who’d almost cried, he was so happy. He planned to propose to his girlfriend during dinner. In a busy restaurant. On Valentine’s Day.
“Good luck to you,” Sam said, agreeing to have a bottle of chilled champagne ready, assuming the poor woman actually wanted to marry a man who got teary over a restaurant reservation.
He’d finally fallen into bed around three. Now it was what? Eight? He groaned, shoved a pillow over his head, wanting one more hour. But the dog started up again. Another dog? A squirrel? Who knew, but the barking grew shriller and more hysterical until Sam gave up and rolled out of bed.
The steady tapping of rain on the skylight in his apartment only added to his less-than-stellar mood. Valentine’s Day. And the sky was pissing all over him. And his own personal valentine was miles and miles away.
Perfect.
He put on a pot of coffee, adding extra grounds because he could already tell he was going to need the turbo punch of caffeine.
He waited until he had his first mug in hand and then fired up his computer. Foolish to feel hopeful.
But he felt a rush of relief when he saw an email from Jessica. It had an attachment. A goofy, silly ecard with huge animated hearts and a computer-generated version of an old love song. He smiled, appreciating that she’d put in the effort. What had he expected? A bouquet of roses?
But then he hadn’t sent her anything. Well, he didn’t have her address for a start. Or her phone number.
He emailed her back.
Happy V. Day.
I liked the card. Thanks. I’m not good at cards and flowers. But I do have something for you. I’ll be giving it to you in person. I can’t wait to see you!
He thought for a moment and continued.
Valentine’s Day is both the best of days and the worst of days in the restaurant trade. The tips are good, the business is booming, and most of the customers are out to be pleased, but it’s crazy busy. And the expectations are ridiculous. How can you prove you love someone in a single night?
Shouldn’t we be proving to the people closest to us that they matter every single day?
Does that make me sound like a fool? Probably. I admit, I’m in a mood. A barking dog woke me up too early. Instead of working solidly from ten this morning until the last lovesick romantic wanders out the door tonight, I wish I was spending the whole day with you.
He wondered what she was doing tonight and then didn’t want to ask. If she was going out on the town, he did not want to know. His day already seemed dark and dreary enough.
Then he mentally smacked himself upside the head. He should be beside himself with excitement. His restaurant, the massive risk he’d taken, had paid off. Benedict was full most nights. Today was going to be their busiest day on record and there was a huge waiting list of disappointed diners hoping to squeeze in thanks to last-minute cancellations.
He and his team had made a success in one of the toughest businesses around. A man who took that kind of achievement lightly was a dick.
He decided he wasn’t going to be a dick.
Not today.
He ended his message saying, I’ll email you when I get home. I’ll tell you a secret. Got a guy hoping to get engaged tonight. Keep your fingers crossed the gal says yes.
Sam.
He went to the closet, pulled down a small gift bag from the top shelf. He’d bought the thing on impulse, walking past a gift store a few days ago. A small glass—he didn’t know what it was. A paperweight? Something about the colors had reminded him of Jessica. He thought about the colors in her eyes, the blue-and-green lights against the clear gray. And he recalled how enthralled she’d been by the Dale Chihuly exhibit. Of course, this one wasn’t a Chihuly. He’d have needed a few thousand for that. And it wasn’t a knock off, either. This artist had her own style. He’d stepped into the store on impulse. When he picked up the piece it had felt smooth in his hand and the colors and shapes swirling inside made him think again of Jessica’s eyes, especially when they were sparking with passion.
And passion, he reminded himself, as he looked at the small piece for a few minutes before restoring it to the top of his closet, was what the love of food and serving foodies was about.
He found himself reminding himself of his own pep talk as he sloshed through puddles to get to the restaurant.
He felt the energy in the staff as they arrived. Some were pumped about being so busy, knowing they’d be worked off their feet but also knowing that the customers would be happy, the tips exceptional. Some seemed as if they had better things to do.
When all the prep was done and they had a few minutes to spare, he called everybody together.
He looked around at his crew. The chefs and kitchen help, the servers, the assistant servers, the hostesses, the bussers, the sommelier, the bartenders. He found himself grinning. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
He received a chorus of “Back at ya” and some weak grins.
“This is going to be a record day for us. Our first Valentine’s Day. I rely on you guys every day to make Benedict work, and you never let me down. I am proud of what we’ve accomplished. You should be, too. I personally would never go near a restaurant on Valentine’s Day.” General laughter and agreement. “But most regular people haven’t figured that out yet. They are coming to us today to celebrate. Maybe it’s the beginning of a relationship, maybe it’s an old married couple. Maybe, like Dave at table 4, somebody’s going to propose. Whatever brings them here, they are trying to show that special person they care. I want us to remind every single customer, no matter how busy it gets out there, that we care too. Let’s show Seattle that we know love!”
Maybe it completely sucked as a pep talk, but he felt good for sharing his thoughts and he felt the energy shift. There was more joking around, more smiles. When the doors opened and the chaos began, he felt the team shift into gear smoothly and efficiently.
He did the rounds, made sure everyone was having a good time. Helped out as needed, coaxed Francine out of the storeroom when she became overwhelmed with missing her boyfriend in Geneva.
They barely had time to reset the tables and grab a quick staff meal and then the dinner rush began.
He kept an eye on table 4, delivered the champagne personally when a relieved Dave gave the signal that she’d said yes. After Dave slipped the ring on her finger and she ran around the table to throw her arms around him, they both cried, so he figured Dave had found the right woman.
Naturally, with that kind of performance, the couple were greeted with hearty congratulations from nearby diners, and as word quickly spread, the room erupted into spontaneous applause.
It was a good night, Sam began to realize as he gazed around at his patrons, some of whom were regulars and some brand-new to Benedict.
He slipped out a couple of Valentine Fantasy desserts to the newly engaged couple compliments of the house and then turned his attention to helping behind the busy bar.
It was closing in on midnight when the last diners were gone, the last dishes done and he realized the night had been a huge success.
He high-fived Chef.
He thought about suggesting a nightcap, then he noticed a bright pink envelope sitting prominently on the counter with his name on it.
“What’s this?” Had the staff gone in for a Valentine card?
He glanced at the few remaining staff, but nobody seemed to be too interested.
He ripped open the flap.
Inside was a Valentine card all right.
It said, “Tonight is for You,” on the front. There was a sketch of the outline of a pair of sexy legs and a pair of lips. Okay, then, not from the staff. Intrigued, he opened the card.
Inside was a keycard. A very familiar card. He knew which hotel and he was pretty sure he’d find himself going to the same room where he’d spent one of the mos
t amazing nights of his life.
Along with the keycard was a handwritten message.
I’m waiting for you.
He laughed out loud.
“What?” Chef asked.
“Turns out I have a hot date for the evening,” he said, unable to keep the smile off his face.
There were a couple of Valentine Fantasy desserts left. “Box me up one of those desserts, will you? And take the other one home to your wife.”
He grabbed a chilled bottle of his best champagne, collected the dessert and headed out into the night.
It was still raining, but what did he care?
He stopped briefly at his apartment to pick up the gift he hadn’t imagined being able to give to Jessica so soon.
He had a million questions about how and why, but he knew they could wait. Until morning.
For now, he had a very important woman to see. And a very important Valentine Fantasy to deliver.
He grabbed an extra ten minutes to shower and brush his teeth, stuff some condoms in a reusable shopping bag with the gift and the wine. Then he picked up the pastry box and headed to her hotel, every inch of his skin beginning to burn as he thought about having that sweet, hot woman all to himself. All night long.
He was so aroused just thinking of all the ways he was going to make love to her that he had to hold the bag in front of him as he rode up the elevator, thankfully alone.
He walked along the corridor, feeling her draw him closer. He knocked on the door. Waited.
The door slowly opened for him and there she stood, wearing lingerie so silky and erotic that even his vivid imagination hadn’t been up to the job.
She smiled, shy and sexy—and his.
He stood there stupidly, the bakery box in one hand, his bag in the other. The moment stretched. She put her hand up and pushed her hair back, hooking it over her ear. She glanced at the box and said, “You brought me my Valentine Fantasy.”
“No,” he said, finally finding his voice and crossing the threshold into her room. “You brought me mine.”
He had his arms wrapped around her and was kissing her deeply as the door swung slowly shut behind them.
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ISBN: 978-1-4603-1193-6
Her Valentine Fantasy
Copyright © 2014 by Nancy Warren
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