Baby For My Grumpy Chef, page 17
I walk over and try to pet him, but he pulls his head away from me, too upset to be comforted. And then, getting me to jump, there’s a loud knock at the door. “Amelia? It’s me. I brought food.”
I freeze, my skin prickling with sudden adrenaline. “What is he doing here?” Chloe demands, standing up to walk over to me.
“I…told him he could bring dinners over for me.” I stammer, unsure. “But I didn’t think-”
Goat yowls and jumps up at the door, doing a little dance on his hind legs as if he’s trying to knock it down. I sigh. “Hello?” Sebastian calls again, his deep voice rumbling.
I open the door, and a few things happen at once. Firstly, Goat leaps, something he’s not nearly athletic enough to do, and catches onto Sebastian’s jacket. An armful of Tupperware in Sebastian’s arms wobbles as he tries to keep upright, Goat’s weight unbalancing him, and I shove my hands against the stack to keep it from falling.
And then we go still, staring at each other, as Goat wraps himself around Sebastian’s shoulders and purrs. “It’s, uh…a good thing I’m wearing a jacket.” Sebastian finally says, looking stunned.
“Sure is, but Goat would have climbed you anyway. What are you doing here, army guy?” Chloe sticks her head over my shoulder, grabbing the side of the door.
“Army, I was in the Navy.” Sebastian replies, blowing out from his mouth as Goat’s fluffy tail whacks him in the face. “I was bringing food. If you let me inside, I’ll leave it here for you, and I’ll leave the cat, too.”
Goat meows contentedly, still purring up a storm. Finally, Chloe steps back, scowling. “I guess you’d better bring it in then, if that’s alright with you, Amelia?” She adds, her eyes turning back to me.
I know that if I asked her, Chloe would get Sebastian out of here in an instant.
But I need to learn to tolerate him if we’re going to do this together, and I did tell him that he could bring me meals. I wasn’t expecting one on the same night, but that’s my own fault for giving him my address when he texted me this afternoon.
Sebastian walks in, careful to make sure Goat doesn’t fall off of his shoulders, and sets the Tupperware on the kitchen counter. “Nice place.” He comments, glancing around.
It is nice, one of the many things that I’ve loved about moving here. The house is easier to decorate, and roomier than any apartment I’ve been in. “Thanks.” I murmur, leaning forward to inspect the food. “Sebastian, there’s enough here for a week, how much do you think I eat?”
Sebastian shrugs, and some little beastly emotion in my chest surges as I see some color rise to his face. “Figured it was better to bring too much than not enough.”
“Good way to think.” Chloe cracks open one of the containers and grabs a fork, eating what looks like rice and chicken without bothering to warm it up. She takes a bite and moans, muttering, “Goddammit, how can a jerk like you cook food this good?”
Sebastian stares at her for a few seconds, and I wonder if he’s offended she called him a jerk, or surprised that she seems to approve of him for once. “It’s better hot.”
“Good enough cold, though.” Chloe retorts.
Sebastian nods slowly, then turns back to face me, reaching up to scratch Goat behind the ears. He’s too big to rest on my shoulders, but the chubby cat fits perfectly on Sebastian’s broad frame, kneading lightly at the arm of his jacket. “So, uh…I told David about the plan for me to stay here.”
“...yeah?” I cross my arms, hoping I look more confident than I feel. “What did he say?”
Sebastian considered for a moment. “If I remember right, he told me I could go to hell, but he’ll do it. I think he’s pretty excited, to be honest.” He adds with a quiet chuckle.
The sound of his laugh makes me shiver, remember all the times I was so desperate to see him smile. Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, just barely, and I blink hard to get rid of them. “So he’s going back to Los Angeles?”
“For now. He’ll be stopping in every so often, but all I’m really doing here is monitoring the new place. They have their own employees and chef, so I won’t be needed day to day.”
“In other words, you’re temporarily unemployed.” Chloe points out. She’s hauled herself up to sit on the kitchen counter, halfway through the cold chicken and rice.
Sebastian sighs. “I own two fine-dining restaurants. I don’t think that’s unemployed-”
“Do you have a place you’re working every day? Clocking in for shifts and everything? Wearing a uniform?”
Sebastian is silent, and a victorious smile spreads on Chloe’s face. “So technically, until you get back to Los Angeles, you’re unemployed. Not working. Spending all day at home.”
“...I’m going to focus on Amelia.” Sebastian finally growls, a hint of irritation entering his voice. “And the baby.” He quickly adds, glancing back at me. But I’m too distracted, thinking about what Chloe said, Sebastian going back to Los Angeles.
Right. Somehow, I’d forgotten, he’s just here for the baby. What happens after? Once he, or she, Rosa’s comment reminds me, is born?
“Cool. Well, so long as you’re bringing meals like this to the clinic, too, you can do whatever you want. Aren’t you rich? You could buy lunch-”
“Chloe, please stop.” I say tiredly, and she shrugs, unoffended. “I know you’re just trying to annoy him.”
“He deserves to be annoyed, doesn’t he?”
I don’t have much to say to that, but surprisingly, Sebastian smiles, the slightest, lingering tilt at the corners of his lips. “You’re Amelia’s friend?” He asks, and Chloe narrows her eyes at him, tossing the emptied Tupperware in the sink.
“Yeah. Let me guess, you don’t like me?”
Sebastian shakes his head. “I think you’re good for her.”
Chloe’s glare falters. “Well…yeah, of course I am.”
Sebastian turns, glancing at me. “Thanks for, uh…letting me in.” He crouches by the kitchen counter, and Goat gets the hint, stepping lazily off of his shoulders. Sebastian gives him a few more scratches before he continues, “I’ll see you around. Let me know if there’s anything you need, like Chloe said, I’m unemployed, so I don’t have much on my schedule.”
My mouth opens, but he’s already slipping out the door, leaving my words to die in my throat.
God, I wish it was easier to hate him.
24
SEBASTIAN
“Dude, you really mean it? You want to stay here?”
“Look, it’s what I need to do.” I groan, rubbing both hands down my face hard enough to peel it off. “She’s pregnant, David, I can’t just-”
“No, yeah, yeah, I get it.” David sighs through his nose, leaning back against the office desk.
It’s not a lot of space in here, probably because of the past owners of this building. The original Indigo Eatery was built from one of those old fine-dining restaurants, but this building is newer, less fancy. David did an amazing job with it, but even he can’t polish up the ten square foot room that we stand in now.
Luckily for him, he won’t have to spend much time in it at all. Not that he’s taking the news well, that he’ll be going to Los Angeles without me. That I’ll be staying here, in San Jose, while he takes full control of the first location. It’s been two days since I dropped off that food for Amelia, but since David is on his way home, I can’t put off this last argument any longer.
To be honest, I shouldn’t have put it off this long. “You gonna be alright?” I ask.
“I mean, I was already basically managing the restaurant.” David replies. I wince, but he’s right, I’ve checked out of the business side of things since breaking up with Amelia.
“And you’ve been doing great.” I finally reply, and David smiles at me, though his jaw is tight.
“...so what’s the plan for the future, boss?” He finally asks, raising an eyebrow. “Are you planning to move back to Los Angeles after the baby is born?”
“I-” My voice falters, and I clear my throat, looking at the ground. “Don’t know yet.”
“Mm. Yeah, I can see that.” David walks up, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I trust you, and you’re the one who calls the shots. I’ll go wherever you need me to. But, Sebastian…you have to make up your mind.”
“About what?” I snap back. “There are enough fucking things for me to worry about.”
David doesn’t flinch, after years working together, he’s heard me bellow at kitchen staff and rip new assholes into rude customers a thousand times over. A little sharpness in my voice isn’t going to rattle him, something I, reluctantly, have to admit I appreciate. “About this, boss.” He replies, quiet and even. “What do you want? A business, or a family?”
Somehow, even though I’ve been thinking about the idea of family for a week straight, that question rattles me. “Both.” I finally reply.
David grins. “Sure, sure. Well, if anyone would be able to have their cake and eat it too - it would be you, man.”
I nod, but don’t reply, unsure of what I can even say to that. David bumps me on the shoulder on his way out of the office, adding, “Our flight leaves at 10 AM tomorrow morning. Make sure to be there, or I’ll check Cricket out of boarding and teach her to pee on your carpet.”
And then he’s gone.
I should be heading out myself, soon I’ll fly back to Los Angeles and get my things, pick Cricket up from the fancy boarding place I managed to find, and prepare for a longer stay than the single night I’d planned on.
But I can’t stop thinking about David’s words.
It was the business that made me leave Amelia in the first place, sure. Knowing that I’d be miserable giving it up, even if it makes me miserable to have it sometimes.
But now? I have a new restaurant right here, where she is. I can work when I want, spend time with her as much as I want. And I can pay for Amelia to take as much time off of work as she needs once the baby is born. I could even move here in the long run. Theoretically, it’s perfect.
For the moment, though, I feel completely fucking useless.
What she needs right now is a partner, a companion - a father, to help her through this pregnancy, to raise our kid. Even if I could be that for someone, which I have serious doubts about, I’ve damaged things too much for her to trust me.
I pace circles around the office, trying to figure out what I want, what I can even do. I pull out my phone to check the time-
And a message pops up on the screen.
Are you awake?
It’s almost midnight. Of course I’m awake.
Yeah. I type. You alright?
I head out of the office and lock up while I wait for Amelia’s next message, but it doesn’t take long.
I am. I just can’t stop thinking.
Neither can I, I write back with a little chuckle. I guess I’m not the only one having major life revelations right now.
Do you want to maybe talk for awhile? Without Chloe?
I frown at my phone for a few seconds. Then, after a beat of hesitation, I hit the little call symbol in the corner and bring my phone up to my ear.
Amelia answers almost immediately. “...hi, Sebastian.” She murmurs.
The sound of her voice, tired and soft, sends a gentle shiver down my spine. “Hey, Amelia. What’s going on?”
I can hear her shifting, blankets rustling, she must be in bed. I step out of the back into an alleyway behind the new restaurant, the door automatically locking as it shuts behind me. “I just…it’s hard to believe, isn’t it? That we’re going to be…parents?”
For the first time since we reunited at the grand opening, Amelia’s voice is completely absent of anger, or grief. She sounds like she’s at a sleepover, speaking in a hushed whisper despite the fact that we’re on the phone.
“It is.” I agree, walking out onto the sidewalk. “I can’t imagine some little kid calling me Dad.”
Amelia makes a breathy little sound, a laugh, I realize. “And I can’t imagine being called Mom. We’re going to have to deal with doctor appointments, and schools-”
“Oh, that’ll be great.” I snort, piling into my car. The downside of being in San Jose is that, unlike our apartments in Los Angeles, The Indigo Eatery is a twenty minute drive from Amelia’s clinic, half an hour from her house. “Maybe I’ll join the PTA groups. Bake cookies and make flyers.”
Amelia laughs a little louder this time. “You’d be great at it. All you’d have to do is stand by the other booths and people would be so scared, they’d have to buy from yours.”
I find myself grinning as I pull out onto the empty roads. “Exactly.”
Am I meaning to drive towards Amelia’s house as we chat? No, not really. But it’s one of the few roads I know in this city, and I find myself parked there half an hour later, our call still going. “Sebastian?” I can hear Amelia move, and at the window, I see the curtains pulled to one side. She sounds surprised, but not angry, thank fuck. “Is that you parked out there?”
I clear my throat. “Sorry, I, uh…I was leaving the restaurant when you called me and just…started driving. I’ll head back-”
“No.” Amelia says suddenly, her voice firm. Then, with a little more sheepishness, she continues, “I mean, um…you can come in. If you want to. Do you want tea?”
“I’d take some.”
I walk up to the door, still holding the phone. Goat’s meowing on the other side, audible from here and through the call, which is starting to echo as I get closer.
The door opens, and there she is. She’s wearing fuzzy pajama pants with little cactuses on them, a tank top, and a thick cardigan that falls almost to her knees to tie it all together. She looks like a living cotton ball, and I get hit with a pang of affection so intense it steals my breath away.
Unfortunately, this time, I forgot to wear my jacket. A furry form slinks past Amelia’s feet and leaps up at me, Goat’s fish-hook claws digging into my arm as he drags his considerable weight onto my shoulders. “Jesus-!” I jolt, cupping his fluffy behind with one hand to help him up the rest of the way, at least then he won’t need to use me as a climbing wall.
Amelia’s eyes are wide, and she jerked back a little at that whole scene, but a tiny smile is growing on your face. “He really does remember you.”
“Seems-” I break off with a hiss as Goat plucks his claws out of me and readjusts himself, shoving his big head against my cheek hard enough to bruise. It would be easier to get mad about it if he wasn’t so goddamn happy to see me, his purrs deafening from this close. “Seems like it.”
“Well, I don’t think he’s moving anytime soon, but you should probably come in. I don’t want him getting loose.” Amelia replies gently, turning around to lead me inside. I step into her house, still amazed at how similar it is to her apartment, bigger, tidier, but decorated with the same art, made to have the same cozy feel.
There’s a small kitchen nook by the door, with the kitchen itself to the right. Straight ahead is the living room, with a few squashed couches and chairs that have little blankets laid over them. A candle is lit on the coffee table, making the warm air smell like cinnamon.
Amelia glances up at me, some uncertainty in those beautiful, hazel eyes. “Um- for tea, I have peppermint, earl gray, chamomile-”
“Chamomile sounds great.” I reply. “Want me to handle it?” Somehow, it feels wrong to come into her house and let her make my tea, especially after finding out about her condition.
Amelia grins at me, even her tired eyes seeming a little less troubled. “I appreciate it, but no. I think I can lift a five pound kettle.” She pads into the kitchen, and I realize she’s wearing another pair of cozy socks, these ones dark green and dotted with little mushrooms.
God, she’s adorable. The sight of her is almost enough to let me forget what’s happened between us, what I’ve done.
She clicks off an electric kettle that’s steaming on the kitchen countertop, pouring water into two large, round mugs. I watch her dig around in the cabinet, and even the way she moves is familiar, the little steps and stretches and the quick, gentle way her hands pluck out two teabags. “Honey?”
“What?” I stare at her, uncomprehending. Did she just call me…?
Amelia tilts her head, confused, then snorts with laughter. “Do you want honey, Sebastian?” She asks, pulling a ceramic jar out of her cabinet and showing it to me.
Oh. Fuck, that’s embarrassing- “Sure.” I reply awkwardly, my ears hot.
Amelia still has a gentle smile on her face as she brings the tea over and sits down, taking the lid off of the honey and using a hive-shaped dipper to sweeten her own tea. “I’m surprised you came over this late.” She asks, not looking at me as she stirs her tea.
“...I was leaving the restaurant. Hadn’t gone back to my hotel yet.” I explain, somehow feeling like I’ve been accused of something. She doesn’t think I’d come over here to…to hit on her, does she?
Don’t get me wrong, I want to.
Just being around Amelia makes my skin prickle with desire, not necessarily for sex, but for her. Even though I know we’re past that, that keeping in touch for the baby is different than being here for each other, all I want is to pull her into my arms and keep her there.
But, as shitty of a person as I might be, I’m not that evil. I’m not going to try and get her again when she’s specifically told me she doesn’t want that.
Even if it drives me crazy, being this close to her.
“I see.” Amelia keeps stirring, the small spoon clicking against the edges of her cup. “...I want you to know, um…I don’t…I don’t hate you, Sebastian.”
“No?” I sound surprised, I feel surprised, even though Amelia’s invited me into her house twice now, talked to me on the phone, made me tea.
“I haven’t forgiven you yet, either.” She adds sharply, and I can’t help but huff out a little laugh. That’s more what I was expecting. “But…thank you for coming. I couldn’t sleep, and…”
