“Of course. It’s under McCaulkiner. Berry McCaulkiner.”
The guys and Juno all laugh but I just shake my head. “You’re the McCaulkiner party of five?”
“The Berry McCaulkiner party of five,” Tommy corrects in his best impersonation of a Scottish accent.
“Well, it’s a good thing I put you in the back.” I wink, which earns me a round of uproarious laughter from them all.God. We are all such children. How the hell am I supposed to bring a baby around this group of friends? I gather the menus from beside the front counter and lead them toward their table.
Gabe pulls me in for a kiss and I glance at Arturo, who’s now standing at the bar, watching my boyfriend paw at my skirt. I remove Gabe’s hands from my ass and promise to return once they’ve looked at the menus.
“I did not know your friends were coming tonight, Lo,” Arturo says as I sidle up to him at the bar, praying he doesn’t chew me out for it.
“That makes two of us. I didn’t know either. Sorry. They have a reservation. And they won’t be getting special treatment or anything.”
“Nonsense. The big guy with the hair, that’s your ...” He pauses as if he can’t remember the name of the man I’ve been mooning over for an eternity. “Gabriel, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I smile as I stare at my tattooed Southern Viking Dude.
“Then he is family. Their dinner is on me.”
My eyes turn round as saucers. “Art, no. You don’t have to do that.”
“How long have you worked for me, pequeña azul?”
“Five years? Give or take.”
“And in that time have you ever known me to do something I didn’t want to?”
“Art, you’re very sweet, but my friends drink like fishes, and they eat a lot. Trust me when I say this is one meal you don’t want to comp.”
“In all those years, I have never been insulted by you ... until now.”
“I don’t mean—”
He holds up a finger and his dark eyes bore into me. One random stray butterfly performs cartwheels in my stomach as I stare at my boss. I’m not sure why, because Arturo is ... gorgeous, but I’ve never really looked at him as anything other than a friend and employer.
“You will serve them, and you will not hand them a check at the end of the meal.”
I open my mouth to protest but those dark eyes level me with a look and I see my boss in a whole new light. Arturo’s mouthcurls up in the corner and I’m not sure how to handle this shared moment because my boyfriend—who I’ve wanted for almost as long as I’ve been living in LA—is sitting at a table at the back of this restaurant and there is definitely something wrong with me.
I catch Gabe’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar where we keep the measured liquors. His shoulders are tight, and his eyes are narrowed as his big body rises from his seat and moves toward us through tables and chairs that he seems to dwarf.
“Crap on a cracker,” I whisper, averting my gaze and avoiding his reflection in the mirror.
Arturo’s brow furrows and a confused smile seems to play on his lips. Gabe stops behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, then he presses a wet, possessive kiss against my cheek.
“Arturo, you’ve met Gabe, right?”
Arturo thrusts his hand toward Gabe for him to shake. “Of course. Nice to see you again, amigo. Welcome to Black Sombrero.”
Gabe extricates his hand from around my waist and gives Arturo’s hand a few solid pumps. “Thanks, man. I figured my crew were long overdue for a night out.”
“Well, I’m very happy you chose us. I was just telling Lo, you’re family now, because she is.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” Arturo smiles down at me. “Your señorita works hard. Ella es la mujer más trabajadora que conozco. We’d be lost without her.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Gabe says, but his tone is blunt, almost a warning.