I followed them into the kitchen and watched as Mikey made friends through food. He’d done it so many times before, but it never failed to impress me. As he offered the Civettis and the agent fresh coffee, he explained what made the muffins smell so good and how they were actually healthy, “but you’d never know it.”
Once the agent informed the couple who I was, Mikey told them he was my personal chef. Their eyes lit up with interest, and they began asking him a million questions. I loved seeing the interest pointed at him for once. Mikey was incredibly talented and deserved all the recognition in the world.
He talked with his hands and a big smile, answering their questions about how he knew so much about nutrition, interesting things he’d learned in the program at Texas A&M, his work with pro ballplayers and private catering clients, and what got him into cooking in the first place.
I cut in to add that he currently had a cookbook in the works with a publisher and was going to be a household name very soon. It caused a sexy-as-fuck blush on Mikey’s face and an excited energy from the older couple.
“Oh gracious, that’s amazing,” Mrs. Civetti said, turning her eyes on me. “Aren’t you the lucky one? This muffin is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. What are some of your favorite dishes Michael makes back home?”
As I began to brag about my favorite recipes and what a difference Mikey had made to my own health and that of many of my teammates, I saw the heart eyes begin to appear from both Civettis.
“Would you consider a move to Aster Valley?” Mr. Civetti asked Mikey with mischief in his eyes.
Mikey chuckled. “Aster Valley is lovely. I’ve only been here a couple of days, but I love it so far. I told Tiller I wish I could buy this place and turn it into my own bed-and-breakfast.”
I could tell he was joking, answering as if it was a daydream rather than reality, but still, the idea of it made my stomach uneasy.
Mrs. Civetti clapped her hand to her chest and shot hopeful eyes at Mikey. “Oh! That’s exactly what we have in mind for this place, but we would need a chef and someone to run it…”
Now my stomach situation turned into an actual wobble. This was bordering on something other than a hypothetical.
“We should get going and let the Civettis get back to their investment assessment,” I said carefully. I couldn’t decide if I was being an asshole denying Mikey an opportunity or a friend protecting him from getting his hopes up.
“Yes, of course,” Mikey said quickly. “We didn’t mean to interrupt your viewing. Please take some muffins with you. I’ll grab a zip-top bag for you to put them in.” He busied himself with the muffins until he had a bag for the Civettis and one for the folks at the diner.
Mr. Civetti held out his card to Mikey. “If you’d like to consider a move to Aster Valley, and you’d like to give serious thought to something like this, give me a call. We aren’t sure yet about making this investment since we don’t have plans to move here ourselves, but we like to grab opportunities when they seem to line up just right. Meeting you here seems serendipitous.”
“Thank you,” Mikey said, taking the card. “I really appreciate that. I’ve always had a dream to run my own restaurant, so I will let you know. It was very nice meeting you.”
“Take your time with the viewing,” I said. “We’re going into town for breakfast.”
The agent assured me she would lock up when they were finished. “And I’m happy to shoot you a text when they’re done if you’d… like to give me your number?”
I sensed a little puff of air escape Mikey’s nose. No one else would have noticed, but I knew him well enough to know he thought the woman was flirting with me. In light of what we’d done together last night, I wondered what he thought of that. Did it make him jealous at all? Possessive? I’d never really understood jealousy in the past, but I’d gotten a swift ass-kicking lesson on it when Nelson Fucking Evangelista had opened his damned mouth in that Seahawks game.
“Why don’t you give it to me?” Mikey offered with the same fake friendliness he gave to pushy reporters and Rigger haters we encountered in public. It was kind of cute.
After they exchanged numbers, we headed out the front door and into our rental. Mikey automatically got to drive since I wasn’t about to have the “clipped wing” argument with him again.
When he found an open parking space on the street behind the diner, I realized we’d spent the short drive into town talking comfortably like we always did. Nothing was weird or awkward between us after last night.