“Goodnight,” I whisper as I turn over to face away from him.
“Goodnight, love.”
I wait in silence for the charcuterie platter I ordered to arrive as Eric, Minka, and Minka’s mother, Ester, discuss the possibility of taking a summer vacation at their lakeside cabin upstate. I barely register anything they’re saying as my mind keeps flashing back to the mortification I felt when I woke up yesterday morning with my arms wrapped around Ethan’s arm like a damn security blanket.
He was a good sport about it. He seemed to accept my explanation about how I normally sleep with a body pillow, so I must have confused his arm for it in the middle of the night. But I could still see the seed of doubt in his eyes. In the end, I decided it best to pretend my insides weren’t writhing with embarrassment as he was taking the piss out of me, as he called it.
I was grateful he gave me the rest of the day off yesterday, so I didn’t have to see him after that awkward car ride. And I wasn’t scheduled to work today. I thought the time away would lessen the dread of going back to Forked, but somehow the dread mixed with the unmistakable pining has only made it worse.
The truth is, I loved waking up with him in my arms, even if it was just one of his limbs.
“Alice?” Eric’s voice breaks me out of my reverie.
“Yes?”
He smiles as he holds up a piece of bruschetta. “You should try this stuff. It’s really good.”
I take the bruschetta from him and pop the whole thing in my mouth, savoring the satisfying crunch and the slightly sweet topping. “Mmm,” I murmur as I nod my head.
His eyes light up. “What kind of stuff is that on top of the bread?”
Without hesitation, I reply, “It’s a romesco sauce. It’s not a traditional topping for bruschetta, but this is a tapas restaurant, so…”
“Romesco,” Eric repeats the word, trying it out in his mouth. “What’s in it?”
I can’t help but smile at his eagerness. “Roasted red peppers, almonds, stale bread, olive oil. Maybe a few other things, depending on who makes it.”
“Do you think I can make it with jalapeños instead of red peppers? You know, raise the heat a little?”
I pause, wondering if I should explain the difference in the sweetness and bitterness of red bell peppers and jalapeños, but I decide against it. “You can make it however you want, Eric. That’s the beauty of cooking; it’s an art. It’s subjective.”
His face splits into a broad grin. “Let me see if I have any jalapeños on me,” he says, digging into the front pocket of his jeans.
Minka screws up her face in disgust. “Sir, I know you did not bring a damn jalapeño in your pocket.”
I stifle a laugh. It always amuses me when Minka calls Eric sir. And his ability to turn any meal into a performance is a talent.
Eric sighs as he reaches into his other pocket. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Minka says, shaking her head. “You’ve gone too far now. Bringing jalapeños from home? Have you lost your damn mind?” She turns to her mother for support. “Mom, are you seeing this? You see what I have to deal with?”
Ester shakes her head. “Let the man have his jalapeños. He’s not hurting anyone.”
Eric’s eyes widen as he seems to find what he’s looking for. “Got it!”
Just as Minka pushes her chair out, as if she’s ready to bolt, Eric pulls something out of his pocket that is decidedly not a jalapeño.
Minka’s jaw drops as he falls to one knee in front of her.
My eyes lock on the small, light-blue box resting in the palm of his hand.
“Baby,” he says, looking into her eyes.
Minka stares at the box in complete shock. “What the…”
“Baby, you know I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you four years ago today,” he begins, and Minka’s eyes begin to tear up. “And you’ve made it very clear that you won’t agree to marry me until I know you well enough to guess how you want to be proposed to.”
I laugh at this piece of information my best friend has never shared with me. Minka appears embarrassed by Eric revealing this private pact they made. But as she looks back and forth a few times between her mother and me, then back to Eric, I have a feeling he may have got this right.
Her gaze settles on me. “Did he ask you how to do this?”
I shake my head adamantly. “I had no idea.”
She turns to her mother, who also proclaims her innocence.
The broad smile Eric wore earlier seems to be tempered by his anxiety now as he opens the box, takes the ring out, and sets the box on the table. “Minka Lorraine Johnson, will you do me the honor of accepting, in front of your best friend and your beautiful mother, this proposal of marriage? Or can you at least tell me if I came close?”
Ester and I laugh, but we quickly collect ourselves as we await Minka’s response.
Minka brushes the moisture from her cheeks, and the sight of it makes my nose sting with unspent tears.
Finally, she nods her head and chokes out her reply, “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
The entire restaurant, which I hadn’t even realized was watching us, breaks out in applause. Ester and I hug each other as Eric and Minka seem lost in their own embrace, oblivious to the joy they’ve brought so many here today.
If Eric had asked me how he should propose to Minka, this is probably not what I would have suggested. Which goes to show that Eric knows her better than I do.
This sparks a painful longing inside me, partly because I know I’ve lost a piece of my best friend to her new fiancé. But mostly because I desperately wish someone knew me that well.
Chapter 10
ETHAN
Opening night for Forked comes much faster than I anticipated. When I found out, a few months ago, that the previous owner of Forked was in bankruptcy and looking to sell the business to cover his debts, I jumped at the opportunity with sheer bravado. The previous owner had run out of funds halfway through the construction phase. My barrister negotiated with the court trustee who was handling his bankruptcy plan, and I was able to buy the restaurant at well below market value.
If I hadn’t been in New York helping with Edward’s restaurant opening, I wouldn’t have stumbled upon the acquisition opportunity. And it was definitely a fortuitous investment.
If we remain on target to reach the milestones set out in the business plan, we’re likely to make a lot of people very wealthy. And once the final funding phase is complete, I’ll be able to offer all my employees a collective stake in the company. This is what I’ve done with every restaurant I’ve opened in the UK, and, among other things, it’s one of my biggest secrets to success.
But the more I consider the serendipitous manner in which this project was dropped into my lap, the more I wonder if I truly stumbled upon it by accident.
With the proving cabinet situation sorted out and the construction punch-list being signed off on by Tino yesterday afternoon, the only thing that can go wrong tonight will come down to the human factor. Is the staff ready? Can I stop thinking about Alice long enough to focus on one of the most important nights of the year?