Page 67 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

“Everything okay?” I ask as Tomás glances over at our mom whose holding hands with Adrian at their table.

“Oh, with Adrian you mean?”

I nod my head.

“Yeah.” Tomás lets out a sigh that immediately contradicts his words. “I apologized to him and ma. I know I’ve kind of been a dick…”

“Kind of?”

“Okay, fine, I’ve been a major dick to Adrian over the years. Probably undeservingly so.” Sadness sparks in his eyes. “He’s been nothing but supportive and loving to mom, since dad…” He can’t bring himself to say it. I reach for his hand, squeezing it.

“It’s okay, I know. But I’m glad that you see how Adrian wasn’t trying to replace dad. No one ever can. He always loved mom as a friend, and they both couldn’t help how their feelings shifted into more over the years.”

“Kind of like you and Santino?”

“Exactly,” I say with a level of contentment and pride I never thought I’d have when it pertains to relationships.

“I should’ve seen you two happening from a mile away. He’s always been so protective over you, and there’s been many times over the years, that I’ve caught him staring at you. Never disrespectfully but always looking at you like he’s in awe.”

My heart warms at Tomás’ words. Deep down I’ve always known that Tino and I were attracted to each other, physically and emotionally.

We may have spent years fighting it, but it’s always been there, waiting for us to catch on.

Though to hear it from Tomás, and to have him sound so accepting of it despite how awkward it must be for him, means a lot.

“I’m happy for you sis, truly,” Tomás says, somberly.

“Then why do you sound so sad?”

Tomás sneaks his hand from mine. Grabbing his phone from his back pocket he places it on the table. The second he illuminates the screen. I see a host of notifications cluttering it. Email after email, I’m sure all urgent, demanding his immediate attention.

Sifting through his inbox, he answers. “It’s not sadness I feel. It’s exhaustion. Work never ends and now that Tino’s place is renovated and I’m sure you two will be off living your happily ever after, I’m tired of wondering when I’ll have mine.”

Tomás’ eyes are on me now and to say I’m speechless would be an understatement. Up until this point I thought the workaholic, bachelor life he’s been living was what he wanted. I can’t remember the last time he’s had a steady girlfriend or anything outside of a casual fling.

“Anyway, I don’t need to burden you with my shit. Not when our boy is about to win a fucking James Beard Award.” Tomás goes to put his phone away, since the awards have started but he stops just as he phone pings with a new email. “Thank fuck.” The relief in his voice is massive.

“What?” I ask, with ample curiosity.

Tomás puts his phone on silent, stashing it back in his pocket. “Looks like I’ll finally have a paralegal again. My secretary just let me know.”

“That’s good news.”

“Very,” Tomás whispers. “My last one quit, and I’ve been without one for a while, essentially doubling my already mounting workload.

Whoever it is will be transferring to my practice group from whichever one they were in.

But enough work talk.” Tomás points to the projection and the host is now announcing the nominees for Outstanding Restaurant, the category Tino is up for.

Silence falls over the room as we wait. Impatience knocking at all our chests, mounting as we hear, “and the award goes to Santino Amato, Cielo + Cibo, New York, New York.”

Applause erupts throughout Hummingbirds mimicking the sound from the livestream. Everyone clapping for Santino, cheering him on, both here and in the venue, waiting as he makes his way up to the stage to receive his medallion.

As the white ribbon holding the silver medallion is draped over his neck, he keeps looking at the camera. Nervous. Overwhelm. Happiness. All of it written all over his face, increasing as he takes to the podium for his speech.

First and foremost, I want to thank the James Beard Foundation for hosting these awards in order to recognize and celebrate the hard work and talent that is in our industry. Standing here, amongst my peers and those who have served as idols for me feels like a dream.

But I know, just as well as any of you sitting here do, that dreams are simply the foundation needed to set us up for the hard work required to make our dreams into reality.

Growing up in the Bronx, in a Puerto Rican and Italian household, food was everything. It’s how we caught up with each other at the end of the day. It was how we celebrated the big moments in life. And it’s how we coped with the not so wonderful ones.

I’ll be the first to admit that when I started to cook it wasn’t out of passion, but of necessity. I needed to keep food on the table for my family, same way I needed to keep the tradition and the memories I cherished as a kid alive.

Those of you who may have followed my career know that before I won Chef Aaron Caiazzo’s competition show, I used to work at a pizza shop in the Bronx and would vlog myself cooking at home as a way to relax. I didn’t think anything would come of it.

That was until I realized from a different perspective the impact a home cooked meal has on a person. How on even their darkest day, something as simple as taking the time out to prepare a meal from the heart, can take their pain away, even if it only lasts as long as they’re chewing.

I had a moment like that. And it happened at a time when I was shrouded in darkness.

Barely existing, just going through the motions.

Feeling like I had nothing to offer outside of what I had taught myself in my small apartment kitchen.

But it was just that. The skills I had picked up from my grandmothers on both sides of my family, and my mother, rest her soul, that allowed me the opportunity to gift someone something special on their darkest day.

Just like that, the storm clouds that I thought were my fate lifted, as did theirs. And for the first time in my life, I realized I was good at something. I felt happy, like a light was shining above me, lightening my heart, waiting for me to use that gift to its full potential.

The concept behind Cielo + Cibo is simple. It’s good food, cooked from the heart, elevating and combining staples from the two cultures that make me who I am, for all to enjoy.

All with the hope that wherever someone is in life, whether they have had the best day or the worst, or if they just want to not have to worry about cooking dinner that evening because they’re tired, they can feel the slice of heaven that I felt the day the love of my life, otherwise known as mi cielo, gave me something to live for.

I named my restaurant after her.

And I dedicate this award to her.

Because if it wasn’t for her impact on my life, there would be no Chef Santino Amato.

Tears stream down my face hearing Tino wrap up his speech and as promised as soon as he walks off that stage my phone is ringing. Needing a moment to collect myself, I go outside to take the call. “I’m so proud of you Tino,” I say, trying to dry my tears as I answer.

He sniffles into the phone. “Fuck, I didn’t think I would get so emotional. See what you do to me woman?” he jokes, lightening the mood.

“Sorry,” I say with a soft laugh. “But seriously, that speech was beautiful.”

“And I have you to thank for that. I had nothing prepared. I honestly didn’t think I’d win. But I figure what better way to speak on winning Outstanding Restaurant award, than the reason behind why Cielo + Cibo exists?”

“That was all you and your hard work,” I remind him. “That had nothing to do with me.”

Tino clicks his tongue. “I hate to break it to you but that’s where you are wrong mi amor. It has everything to do with you. Now before I head on over to the airport make sure you don’t forget your gift. I left it with Dante.”

“Can I get a hint?”

“Nope, just be my good girl and get the gift I got you and meet me at home.”

“Tomás’ place?” I say jokingly, knowing what he means but wanting to hear him say it.

“No, our newly renovated home. Where we can be alone, and you can be as loud as you want to be. Seriously, don’t hold back.

You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting.

No, needing to hear you scream my name or whatever comes out of that pretty mouth of yours while we are in a place that belongs to us. ”

“Is that so, Chef Amato?”

“Very much.”

I get off the phone and go back inside and ask Dante for the gift box Tino left.

It’s small and nondescript, piquing my curiosity.

Knowing Tino, and how our phone call ended, it’s likely something for us to use together.

Not wanting to wait until I get to me and Tino’s place, I excuse myself to the bathroom to open it.

A beautiful set of lingerie is inside, with a harness, similar to the ones I sometimes wear over top of my clothes, though I can tell immediately that this one is meant to be worn and used with no clothes on.

Beneath that there’s an envelope similar to the one from the other night, and my heart leaps in my chest. I take a moment to gather myself, thinking how heartbreaking reading the last note was, but eager to see what is in this envelope considering the lingerie was on top of it.

It’s another legal pad paper, this one is fresh though, not weathered like other one.

I’m writing this before the awards, so I don’t know if I’ve won or not. On the off chance that I did win, this is for me to tear off you to celebrate. And in the likely event that I lost, this for me to still tear off you while I drown my sorrows in that pussy. Either way…I win.