South Beach Love Page 6

  “Maybe I should have known what would happen with Dina,” he said, hating that his sister could be so right about a relationship she’d only seen from long distance while he’d been right there, up close and personal, and had still been so wrong. His bad judgment and fear of repeating it were the main reasons why he hadn’t dated since the breakup. That, and all the work at the restaurant. But for the next few weeks he’d have the time to explore new recipes and possibly a new relationship.

  Like taking time tonight to go hang out with Sara. As two chefs who appreciated talent. As two long-time friends and nothing more.

  But even as he told himself he shouldn’t pursue her, for a moment he was tempted to mention seeing Sara to Sylvia since he’d always trusted his sister’s judgment. But he held back. Nothing could really happen with Sara since he had a life and restaurant back in New York. At the thought of it, he jumped up from the table with a worried, “I have to call the restaurant and see what’s up.”

  He hurried back to his room, whipped out his smartphone, and speed-dialed his sous chef Amanda who answered on the second chirp. “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “Fine, jefe. Ramon is doing a great job managing everything and we’re holding down the fort,” Amanda said.

  “Are you sure you don’t need me for anything?” Tony asked, worried about his absence was impacting the restaurant.

  “You’ve done a great job of training us. No reason for you to cut your vacation short, unless you’re homesick,” Amanda teased, and in the background, the familiar cadence of the chefs answering confirmed all was well.

  If truth be told, he might be more homesick once he left Miami. Even with the quinceañera insanity, he’d had time over the last couple of days to meet up with a few old friends, visit some old stomping grounds, and hit the beach for some delicious sun and relaxation. “I’m glad everything’s going well. Keep me posted if you need anything.”

  “I will and Tony...” She hesitated but then plunged on. “Lots of places have executive chefs who aren’t in the restaurant all the time. We’re doing well. Don’t worry.”

  “Thanks, Amanda. I’ll try not to,” he said and went to swipe to end the call, but held off for a long second, almost wanting to ask yet again if things were okay. They were and he tried not to let his ego be stung too badly by the realization that they didn’t need him around. But then again, if he hadn’t taught his staff so well, they wouldn’t be doing such a good job without him.

  Without me, he thought once more and reminded himself that as Amanda had said, some executive chefs worked at more than one place, planning menus, developing new recipes, hiring and training staff, and all the other things he’d been doing at his own restaurant. If things were going fine back in New York maybe there was no reason why he couldn’t think about a second location here in Miami.

  One where he could be close to his family and old friends. Maybe one where he could even think about a relationship with someone. Maybe even Sara. The short time with her yesterday had been nice and he was looking forward to spending time with her tonight at her place’s “family meal” after the restaurant closed. Maybe if it went well, he could get some time alone with her. He was still a little uneasy about the idea of getting involved with another chef, but his first impressions said that Sara was nothing like his ex.

  He walked back to the kitchen to deal with his sister’s almost frantic focus on seating arrangements. He dreaded being sucked into that part of the planning, but he had nothing else to do since they’d already had dinner and it would be hours before he would go see Sara.

  Sylvia glanced up. “You’re smiling, hermanito, Everything okay at work?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” he said and, for the first time in a long time, he meant it.

  Things were different here and as Sylvia had wisely pointed out, that meant he could be different as well.

  And maybe that difference could include Sara during the time he’d be in Miami. But he also warned himself not to let it become more. He didn’t want to hurt Sara when he went back to New York. He knew he needed to keep his distance from his friend’s younger sister, but it was getting harder and harder to think of her as only that little freckled kid who’d tagged after them.

  Sara was a beautiful, vibrant and talented woman. One who was hard to resist, but he’d do his best.

  “We’ve hit pay dirt, Marco,” Roberta said and tossed a handful of printouts onto her editor’s desk.

  He peered at her above the rim of his bifocals and picked up the papers. After he perused them, he murmured in interest. “We did a feature on Chef Sanchez, didn’t we?”

  “I checked our archives. An article two years ago when his restaurant got a big star. We also did a piece on Sara Kelly, her restaurant, and that fundraiser last year,” Roberta said and leaned on Marco’s desk to loom over him. “And guess which two top chefs are cooking at those quinceañeras you wanted me to cover?”

  Marco jerked back and pointed to the printouts she’d given him. “Sanchez and Kelly? Really?”

  Roberta straightened and gestured for Marco to look up, as if conjuring a headline in the air. “Picture this, Marco. An award-winning celebrity chef competing against an up-and-coming chef to make the best quinceañera meal ever.”

  Marco’s eyebrows drew together, creating a deep furrow across his forehead. “They’re having a competition? Since when is this a contest?

  Roberta tsked and shook her head. “You wanted an exciting angle, didn’t you? We tell them we can only really feature one of them in the article. By the time I’m done with those two they’ll be chomping at the bit to prove who’s the best chef and get that feature.”

  Marco tilted his head and smiled, a very cold and calculating smile that said it all for her.

  “I guess that smile means I have your approval to take the story in this direction?” Roberta asked, hands on her hips.

  “Go for it. It’s a win-win situation: the magazine gets a great story and I get two fabulous meals since I was invited to both events,” Marco said.

  Roberta smiled, snatched the printouts off his desk, and raced out of his office. She had calls to make, interviews to set up, and rivalries to stoke. Marco had made it clear she had to create gossip that would draw people to the magazine. If she did this right, the interest in this story would keep people talking for weeks.

  Chapter 7

  Sara looked beyond the half wall of the kitchen for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

  “He’s still not here,” Jeri teased as she finished plating one of the slider orders and placed it on the counter.

  “I’m not looking for him. Just judging the crowd,” she said which was a half-truth at best. Okay, maybe an outright lie. She’d spent most of the night waiting for Tony’s arrival, anticipating that moment. Excitement racing through her at the thought of spending time with him.

  “Finally thinning out,” Jeri said with a relieved sigh. It had been an exceptionally busy Thursday night that had kept Jeri from going home early. Lately it seemed like Thursday was the new Friday.

  “I know it’s hard for you not to see Sophie before you put her to bed,” Sara said and tackled an order of au gratin potatoes topped with melted cheese.

  Jeri shrugged and arranged a chiffonade of basil on a caprese salad. “But I’m normally there in the morning and afternoon thanks to you, so I can deal,” her friend said.

  Sara withdrew the plate with the potatoes out of the salamander and smiled at the perfectly melted and crisped cheese on top of the equally crisp and golden potatoes. “Perfect,” she murmured.

  “Yes, I am, sis,” said a disembodied voice from over the ledge of the wall.

  She looked up to find Rick there, Tony beside him. Warmth filled her at the sight of him and Tony’s smile.

  “I wasn’t expecting you, bro,” she said, though she greeted him wi
th a smile. She was always happy to see Rick—and she doubted that Jeri would mind either as she suspected her partner had a thing for her older brother.

  “I was hoping to scrounge up dinner with you.” Rick winked at Jeri before he turned back to Sara and plowed on with his explanation. “I ran into Tony outside. It’ll be just like the old days.” Rick slung an arm around Tony’s shoulders.

  Her smile became a bit forced as she said, “Great.” Would it be just like when Tony had only seen her as Rick’s annoying little sister? But as her gaze locked with Tony’s, his dark brown gaze glittered with anything but brotherly interest. Definitely not like in the old days, she thought with pleasure.

  “Take a seat. We’re just finishing our final orders and you can join us for the family meal when we close up,” she said and motioned to one of the empty tables by the door to the kitchen.

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched the men as they sat, observing them in stolen looks during the next hour until they were saying goodbye to the last of their customers. Anticipation building for the moment she would sit beside Tony for the meal. She looked forward to getting caught up with his life and having him get to know her better.

  As she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and walked over to Tony and her brother, she noticed several empty plates on their table.

  “I guess you couldn’t wait,” she teased. Rick had always been a big eater and between the hard physical labor of the business’s deliveries and his daily six-mile run, he was in as good shape, maybe better, than he had been as a high school football player. Tony has, likewise, stayed fit, she thought, admiring the lean physique beneath the Cuban-style cotton guayabera shirt he wore. The pleated linen shirt was tight across his shoulders, but loose around his midsection.

  Rick rubbed his stomach and said, “I’m a growing boy, sis. Jeri was nice enough to slip us a few snacks.”

  She turned to stare at her sous chef who blushed at the attention of both sister and brother. With a toss of her hands, Jeri said, “What can I say? He is a growing boy.”

  Sara rolled her eyes and shook her head. “We’ll be right back.”

  She returned to the kitchen entrance where on either side of the swinging half-door there were two conspicuously posted signs. One read “No tweezers allowed.” The other looked like a traffic sign and had a red circle with a red diagonal line superimposed over the pictogram for tweezers. Sara had no patience for starred chefs who only served tiny samplings of food prepared with tweezers to their customers. She wanted her diners to leave satisfied both physically and emotionally.

  In the kitchen, preparation for the family meal was well underway. The various chefs made big plates of food for their kitchen staff and guests while the other employees brought together some of the bigger tables in the dining room to make one long one where they all could sit and eat.

  Tony joined Rick and her employees in setting the table while Sara spooned out big bowls of the macaroni and cheese they used in their mac and cheese balls. Jeri had grilled two dozen patties and turned them into sliders while the other line chefs served up plates of ox tails, baked chicken, and a variety of vegetable dishes for the communal meal.

  Tony walked over to take one of the heavy bowls from Sara and Rick did the same for Jeri, who gifted Rick with a shy smile. Sara wondered why the two of them just didn’t finally do something about their obvious attraction.

  Like you’ll do with Tony? the little voice in her head asked.

  Maybe, she shot back because she wasn’t afraid of challenges.

  “I always like the family meal with my staff,” Tony said as he placed the bowl and a serving spoon on the table.

  “Me too. I’ve got great people working with me,” she said and motioned to them as they set up the food. “You’ve already met Jeri. These are my line chefs. Selena, Latoya, Brenda, Diane, and Natalie.” She then introduced the rest of the kitchen and waiting staff as they all took places at the table.

  Tony waited until Sara sat and then took a spot beside her while Jeri and Rick parked themselves opposite them. The other staff quickly sat down and soon the bowls and plates of food were going around the table family-style. People served themselves hearty portions of the different dishes.

  Even though Tony had eaten earlier, the snacks had only whetted his appetite for more of Sara’s delicious food. Since he’d already tried some of the dishes the other day, he selected ones which were new to him. A big serving of ox tails, always a favorite when his mother made them; fried string beans; and slices of what looked like an upside-down tarte tartin but were really beautifully caramelized potatoes with ooey gooey melted cheese on top.

  “Everything looks amazing,” he said and handed off the plate with the potatoes to one of the line chefs.

  Rick murmured his approval as well and eyed both Sara and Jeri with pride. “That’s my sis and her amazing partner and crew.”

  “You have to say that, or we’ll stop feeding you for free,” Sara said with a chuckle and wag of her head.

  “He’s like a stray cat. Never feed them—they’ll always be coming back for more,” Jeri added and playfully rubbed shoulders with Rick.

  “I know a good thing when I see it, and this is good. Great actually,” Rick said and shoved a large helping of mac and cheese into his mouth.

  Tony laughed and forked a piece off the ox tail. The tender meat came off the bone easily and the fragrance of the sauce hit him even before the morsel was in his mouth. But as he bit down, the sweetness of the meat teased his tongue along with just the right touch of heat. After he swallowed, he said, “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but this is better than my mom’s and she’s known as the Queen of Rabos in Little Havana.”

  Jeri pulled out her phone and mimicked sending a message. “I’m tweeting it as we speak. Your mami follows our feed, sabes?”

  “I didn’t know she was on social media,” he replied with a laugh and picked up one of the crispy string beans.

  “Maybe you would if you visited more,” Rick said and then held his hands up in a “Don’t shoot” gesture at Tony’s glare. “Didn’t mean to go there, but we do miss you.”

  Sara glanced between Tony and her brother. “Jeri does almost all of our social media. She loves to take photos of the dishes before they go out to the customers.”

  “That’s a great idea—I’ll have to try that at my place.” He might be the chef with the star, but Sara and her staff were proving themselves possibly more worthy of that distinction. He looked down the table toward the other chefs and staff. “You’ve got a good crew from what I can see. Where have they all worked before?”

  Jeri and Sara shared what seemed like an uncomfortable look before Sara said, “Mostly here. We train a lot of our own people, but Jeri and I went to the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park. It’s where we met.”

  “And became besties,” Jeri added and held her hand up for a fist bump.

  Tony could see why the two women bonded. With her effervescent personality Jeri was bound to draw out Sara, who despite her fearlessness at almost every task as a kid, had always been a little shy around people. Or at least she’d been shy around him. Which told him that maybe he wasn’t imagining the vibes he was reading from her now. Maybe she’d been shy because she was interested in him, and he hoped that hadn’t changed.

  Sara fist bumped Jeri back and smiled. “We came home to Miami to work at some of the local restaurants. When I decided I was going to take a chance and open a place, Jeri took the leap with me.”

  “Never had any doubts,” Jeri said and looked toward the rest of the staff. “We met women in the other kitchens and locations where we first started working, and when we opened this place, they came to work for us. Since then some of them have moved up and we’ve brought on women from a local shelter and trained them so they’d learn a marketable skill.”

  “That’s not an e
asy thing to do,” Tony said. It was hard enough running a place without also having to train people with little or no experience while doing it. It was impressive that Sara and Jeri had accomplished so much, but also that they took a chance so they could help others. Each thing he learned about Sara made him more and more interested in getting to know the complex woman she’d become.

  “But totally worth it,” Sara added with a determined bop of her head and his heart swelled with pride at her generosity and her humility. Others would not be as humble. Certainly not his Dina, his ex.

  “Was this the first location for the restaurant?” he asked as he peered around the interior, even more intrigued now by Sara’s journey.

  “Come on, man. A place like this in this location takes big money,” Rick said and rubbed together his thumb and forefinger. “They had to build up to it.”

  “We started with a food truck. Ran that for a couple of years and stashed away every spare penny. When we wanted a permanent spot, your brother-in-law found us this place and Sylvia sweet talked the owner into leasing it to us in exchange for our fixing it up,” Sara explained.

  “It was a mess after the last tenant. Took us a good four months to get everything repaired and up to code. Luckily, we had help with all the work,” Jeri said and beamed at Rick.

  His friend raised his arm and flexed to show off work-hardened muscle beneath his sleeve. “Sweat equity.”

  “It’s good that you had family and friends to help,” he said, feeling a little left out. Sylvia had never mentioned helping Sara nor had Rick said anything about it when they messaged each other. But then again, he’d been the one who stayed away for years and had no one to blame but himself for not knowing everything that was happening in Miami with his friends and family. It was also something that only he could change and he wanted to change it.

  “When the banks wouldn’t,” Jeri added with a frown and pushed away her now empty plate.