“I… It’s new but…yeah.”
“Oh my God,” she said, teeth flashing in a genuine smile. “That’s great, Wes. You really are charging forward finally. Do I know her?”
“Don’t think so. She’s a lawyer.”
She wrinkled her nose. “A lawyer? That’s…different.”
He laughed. “I’m aware. But she’s pretty great.”
Her lips kicked up in a lopsided grin. “That’s awesome. You deserve to have some fun.” She playfully poked him in the chest and gave him a mock stern look. “Just don’t let it get too serious, all right?”
“Too serious?”
“Yes, believe me. I’m speaking from a been-there, done-that place. I’m so experienced at the rebound relationship that if I fell over, I’d probably bounce.” She made a face. “This is your first dip back into the dating pool. The first ones always feel intense and real and like whoever it may be is everything the last person wasn’t. The feelings can come fast, and then you’re in too deep by the time you realize you’re completely incompatible. That’s one reason why I asked you out. I would go in knowing that I’m just a passing phase. No hearts getting broken on either side.”
“Wow, that’s oh-so-very encouraging, Suze,” he said dryly.
She lifted her palms. “I’m just saying. I’m happy you’re finally moving forward, but a lawyer sounds very…not Brittany.”
His stomach muscles tightened, the words hitting closer than they should. “This isn’t about Brittany. And this isn’t serious.”
Suzie crossed her arms and cocked her head. “All right, I’m just trying to give you a heads-up. I don’t want to see you get in a bad situation again. Or worse, getting your heart broken.”
“No chance of that,” he said, gruffer than he intended.
She flashed him a quick smile. “Good. Now it’s time to get out there and wow these people with your French omelets. I’ll be in here running the kitchen if you need anything.”
Wes let out a breath and gave her a quick shoulder squeeze as he walked past her. “Thanks, Suze.”
He tried to shake off the irritation. Suzie was just trying to be a friend, not dump ice water on him. No need to get mad at good intentions. He didn’t take for granted that he had such caring friends who’d stuck by him when everything had gone to shit. Most of the people he’d known in his wild, partying days had bailed as soon as he’d ended up in rehab. He was no longer the buzz-worthy, up-and-coming chef who threw great parties.
He was just a divorced alcoholic who’d lost his restaurant. They had no use for him anymore.
But Suzie and Dev had been there the whole way through. They’d been the ones who’d tried to help when they could see him spiraling—not that Wes had let them help. They were the ones who’d visited him in rehab and brought him homemade food so he didn’t have to eat the facility’s crap menu. And they were the ones who believed he could have a restaurant again and not mess it up.
Even his family hadn’t bought into that idea.
Right now, he wasn’t sure he fully bought into the idea. Knowing he was about to take that leap again, launching a restaurant—even a small-scale one—had an element of blind terror to it.
Sometimes the scariest thing was finally having what you thought you wanted most. Dreams couldn’t be touched or marred. There was no failure in dreamland. Reality didn’t offer that kind of assurance.
Now there were high stakes. The food truck, the kids, and other people’s money were in his hands. The first time, he’d failed himself. That had been horrible enough. But this time he had to worry about so much more. Failing Rebecca. Failing the program. Failing the students.
Wes took a deep breath as the anxiety tried to creep in, and he let the hum of low chatter and the soft lighting in the ballroom soothe him. In rehab, they’d had the one-day-at-a-time mantra hammered into their heads. He would have to lean on it now. Focus on the next task and not gaze too far into the future. He needed to clean a bus. That was it. He could do that.
With Rebecca, he wasn’t going to think about it as a relationship or a rebound or anything complicated. They were new to each other. Friends. Acquainting themselves. There was an undeniable attraction that they both wanted to act on. It didn’t have to be a big deal.
She was just a woman he liked kissing. A woman he would be working on a project with.
A woman he’d missed when he didn’t get to talk to her last night.
His stomach sank a little further, and he tripped over a power cord on the way to the omelet station, almost falling.
One thought went through his head as he steadied himself.
If he had fallen, would he have bounced?
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