I nodded, prepared to give an off-the-cuff, “Of course,” but the worry in Derek’s expression stopped me. Bonne Terre was his baby…a dream he’d worked hard to bring to life. For the past few months, I’d witnessed the blood, sweat, and tears, the long hours, and the meticulous attention to detail Derek gave to every facet of this venture. He’d hired me on as manager to help run the show on a daily basis. And also, to give him feedback, so he could correct anything that wasn’t quite working.
The bistro hadn’t been open a full month yet. We were still in the honeymoon phase, but I’d been in the restaurant business long enough to know, that phase didn’t last long. Any weak link or hint of bad press could bring a fledgling entity down, and I wouldn’t let that happen on my watch.
“Everyone is great. Honestly,” I assured him.
“Good. I’m guilty of being willfully optimistic when it comes to this place, but I think this is a fantastic crew.”
“I agree. And so do our customers.” I checked the time and reached for the keys. We still had five minutes till opening, but I knew Derek wouldn’t mind letting Mr. M in early. “Mr. Molino is here every morning for coffee and sports talk with Liam or whoever will let him bend their ear for an hour or so.”
Derek grinned. “Whatever gets them coming in works for me. Poor guy is going to be bummed when Liam leaves.”
I paused in my tracks. “Leaves? Did he give notice?”
“No, but he made it clear this was a holiday gig for him. The holidays are over, so I’m thinking we may only have Liam through January.” He inclined his head toward the door. “Let’s open. Mr. M looks like he needs a cup of coffee.”
I obeyed, pasting a smile on my face as I unlocked the door and greeted our customer. I turned the sign in the window and followed Mr. Molino to the counter, engaging in our usual daily small talk about the weather.
But something was off inside me.
I felt like I was suddenly walking through molasses, and I couldn’t figure it out. Sure, I knew this was a temporary gig for Liam. What I didn’t understand was why his imminent departure felt so…depressing.
“G’mornin’, Mr. M!” Liam flashed a brilliant grin at the older man and patted him gently on the back. “Did you see the Ducks game last night? That final goal was insane.”
I stepped aside to let Liam take over, drifting to the far end of the counter to set a few baked goods on tiered plates. I made a production of assembling the macarons by subtle shades of pastel while clandestinely watching their sporty exchange.
Look, I’d be the first to admit I was attracted to tall, dark, handsome, and effortlessly good-natured guys. And I had a thing for athletes. But my greatest weakness was a man with a sense of humor offset by a heavy dose of kindness. My ex-boyfriend, Elliot, was a great example. We broke up over a year ago and though we were on good terms, it was an awkward ending. At least it was until his boyfriend, Braden, referred me to Derek.
They were good people. And so was Liam.
I watched him lean against the counter, smiling as he made idle conversation about player stats and team rankings with a man who was old enough to be his grandfather. He never broke eye contact, and he didn’t hurry him along so he could wait on the pretty college-aged girls who walked in a minute later. In fact, he shot an expectant glance toward Jade, wordlessly asking her to step in.
Yep. Kindness was my kryptonite. And it didn’t hurt that he looked like a Greek god too or that—oh, no.
Oh. Fuck.
I had a crush on Liam. Dammit. That wasn’t good.
Not only was it bad form to lust after an employee, but I had way too much on my plate between grad school and work to even think about my social life, let alone my sex life. Oh, and there was one other minor detail…Liam was straight.
Maybe it was a good thing he wouldn’t be around for long after all.
There weren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish half the things on my to-do list, which meant I didn’t have time to overthink my attraction to Liam either. I actually didn’t see much of him for the rest of that week. He’d requested evening shifts on nights I was working at The Rusty Nail, but he also specifically asked to be scheduled to open the café tomorrow. I wondered if that was when he planned to give notice.
Whatever. I wasn’t going to worry about it. I didn’t have time for that kind of nonsense, remember?
Grad school was officially set to resume in mid-January, but my peer adviser decided it would be a great idea to host a few workshops to prepare for the new semester. I was equal parts enthusiastic for the opportunity to get a head start on the curriculum and resentful to lose any portion of my much-needed break. However, when I walked out of the classroom the following Monday afternoon, I felt optimistic all over again. I liked school. Hell, I liked it better than I had as an undergrad.