That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(102)

“I put my heart and soul into this night,” she cuts in, eyes blazing. “I brought the bloggers in and didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you nervous.”

“And this is where experience comes in,” Eric says. “If you actually had some experience in a five-star restaurant, you would know to always tell the chef who’s at the tables. Always.”

“Hold the fuck on—” I start, but Eve steps in front of me, chin up, anger pouring off of her.

“Excuse me? Are you saying that I shouldn’t have this job? That I haven’t worked my ass off to get where I am?”

“I’m not saying you haven’t worked your ass off—I know what you’ve sacrificed,” Eric replies, the edge in his voice softening slightly. “What I’m saying is, you don’t have the experience, nor do you apparently have the ability to multitask with Reid between your legs.”

And like a firecracker, I explode. In an instant, I’m on Eric, plowing into him, slamming him onto his back, and cocking my arm. I’m about to deliver one hell of a punch when my arm is restrained, and I’m yanked off Eric, my dad’s voice bellowing through the entire restaurant.

“Enough!” He pushes Eric and me apart and then looks between all three of us. “That is enough.” He takes a few breaths, calming himself, becoming the levelheaded man that I’ve always known. “Is this the kind of professionalism I should expect from you three? Beating each other up and tearing each other down?” Eric slouches, and Eve folds her hands in front of her as I keep steady eye contact with my father, knowing that’s what he expects. “I did not hire you three so you can make a mockery of me and this restaurant.”

“It wasn’t the best night,” Eric cuts in, but Dad shakes his head.

“That’s where you’re wrong. The night was a success, but you were too stuck in your head to even notice. All three of you were. Eve, you were upstairs crying for half an hour, apologizing when there was no need to apologize.” Eve was crying? I search her face but don’t see any signs of it. “I was the one who ordered the food, so I should be blamed for the fact that we ran out. But there’s a learning curve here, and we shouldn’t dwell on it. The bloggers were a huge win, Eve, and I’m glad you didn’t tell the boys because it made their experience authentic—and contrary to what you believe, Eric, they gave us rave reviews.”

Eric immediately deflates.

“As for the kitchen, an apology will be issued to our employees for the way they were treated tonight. I understand jitters, but acting like asses is uncalled for, both of you. The tension you two created didn’t go unnoticed, and I suggest that if you both want to continue working here, you’d better air out your dirty laundry because I will not put up with another night like we had tonight.” Standing proudly, my dad continues, “Tonight was a success in my book. Forget the small things, the details that you noticed, because not a single customer complained. Everyone praised Knight and Port—the staff, the atmosphere, the food. They had one hell of a night, and that’s something we need to be proud of. That’s something we need to remember moving forward. The small things we can fix—it’s the big things that need to be addressed. You have until tomorrow morning. If you can’t get over your egos and your past, don’t bother showing up for our morning meeting.”

And with that, my dad walks out of the restaurant without a backward glance, leaving all three of us in a monumental awkward silence.

There’s only one way to break it.

I walk over to the open bar and grab a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses. I nod to Eve and Eric, who don’t say a word but follow my lead. They sit at the bar across from me, and I pour each of us a shot. The sound of waves against the harbor rocks filters in through the open sliding glass windows, setting a peaceful mood for the conversation we need to have.

Together, we all take one shot and then set our glasses down. Hands pressed against the wooden bar top, I take a deep breath and break the ice. “I fucked up.” I look Eric directly in the eyes. “I fucked up by not telling you about Eve and me right off the bat. I thought that if we could prove to you that we worked well together, if we showed you we could separate the business and our relationship, that you would accept it. I’m sorry for the secret. But I will never be sorry for pursuing your sister—that’s something I won’t apologize for.”

He nods but stays silent, so I continue.

“As for Bar 79, we both failed, together.” As the words flow from me, I feel myself accepting them, almost as if saying them out loud is what actually makes me believe them. “We were young, we were cocky, we thought we knew everything, and we were proven wrong. Bar 79 was our heart and soul, and the wound we have from losing it will probably never fully heal, but we can learn from it. We’ve learned that communication is one of the things we need to work on. Honesty is another. We have the talent, Eric. We just need a foundation.”

Eric drags his hand over his face. “Fuck. I’m such a dickhead.” Without another word, he spins in his seat and faces Eve, who’s been silent this entire time. “I don’t know what I was thinking, saying such horrible things about you, Eve. I was fired up, angry over the past and every little thing that went wrong. I was looking for someone to blame, anyone but myself, because I just couldn’t shoulder yet another failure. And I took it out on you, my saint of a sister who’s done nothing but support me. I’m so goddamn sorry.”