Page 5

Hannah

My phone starts ringing the second I walk out the door, but when I pull it from my purse, it’s a number I don’t recognize.

I let it go to voicemail because for the first time ever, I’ll be on time to my Sunday breakfast with Dylan.

Now, I’m not tooting my own horn too loudly since I spent the night at Dylan’s last night and he woke me up and has barked orders at me to get my ass moving ever since.

He’d love to flaunt the fact that it’s him who has made me on time for once.

“Move your ass, Hannah!” Dylan yells, his head hanging out the car window, a smug grin on his face.

“Shut up, you douche!” I shout back, as Tessa covers her face with her hands, shaking her head at our antics.

Tessa doesn’t always join us on Sundays, but today she is and it’s nice to have her here too.

It’s actually been fun staying with them and not having to make the commute from San Francisco, but eventually, I’ll have to go back home and decide what to do.

I can’t drive from the city all the way out to Napa every day, especially with the kind of hours I’ll be working.

Although, it might work in my favor, and I could avoid some of the traffic.

But either way, that hour plus commute is not ideal and I know I can’t fully move in with Tessa and Dylan with their baby coming.

My lease is up in two months and if I have to, I could make it work to rent something in Napa and pay my ridiculous rent in San Francisco at the same time. It’s a good thing I got that pay hike, because I’m going to need it.

“You staying again tonight?” Tessa asks when I get in the car.

“I don’t think so. I don’t work again until Wednesday, so I’ll head home after this and drive in for the dinner rush on Wednesday.”

“Good,” Dylan quips. “Now Tess and I can get back to—”

“Nope. Don’t even say it, Dylan,” Tessa shames, shaking a finger at him and hitting him with a nasty glare. “Stop trying to make your sister uncomfortable. She’s dealt with enough shit from her crappy boss. She doesn’t need you grossing her out.”

“Fine, fine. You know you can stay as long as you need,” Dylan now says, instantly conceding to Tessa’s demands. It’s so damn cute how quickly Dylan and Tessa fell in love and how quickly he realized that having a girl in his life would make it all the better.

“Thanks, I appreciate that, but I also want to make sure I’m long gone before the baby comes. You don’t need me there and a new baby. I’m sure Mom and Dad will be up your ass too.”

“I’m already dreading it,” Dylan laments, rolling his eyes.

“You two are terrible. Your parents are wonderful. I’m sure they’ll be a huge help when the baby comes,” Tessa says, shaming both of us now.

My phone rings again, the same number popping up on my screen as I silence the call.

I’m starting to wonder if maybe my epic quitting is coming back to haunt me.

It could totally be someone from my old job reaching out to bitch at me for leaving them high and dry.

I’m rarely selfish, but in this instance, I was and I really don’t care.

I shove my phone back in my purse and as soon as I do, it chimes out with a notice of a voicemail. Whoever this is clearly wants to get in touch with me. It’s probably a telemarketer calling about my car’s warranty or something stupid.

“Popular today, huh, Han?” Dylan says, glancing over his shoulder as he drives to our usual breakfast spot.

“Guess so,” I reply and again my phone chimes out, a text coming through this time. I pull my phone from my purse, deciding I should probably check in on who this is and what they want.

Leo: Hey Hannah, it’s Leo from Apple Jacks and Somerville’s. I left you a voicemail with this same message. Sorry that seems sorta stalker-like, but I’m desperate. LOL. We got in a huge catering order and I’m wondering if you could come in and help out? Thanks!

I stare down at my phone, excited about the prospect of helping with a catering order, but also wondering if this is one of those times where I need to set some boundaries up front.

I’m not supposed to start till Wednesday and if I say yes to this will I have set the expectation that I will always come in on my days off?

I can’t help but think back to the job I left just a few days ago.

I left because of the work-life balance and the demands.

Will this be another one of those demands?

“Who is it?” Dylan asks, and Tessa swats at him.

“Why are you so nosy? Leave your sister alone.”

“It’s Leo from Somerville’s. He wants me to come in and help with a catering order today,” I tell both of them.

“That’s awesome,” Dylan cheers out, holding his hand behind him for me to high-five. He’s stupidly cheesy right now and I blame Tessa.

“Is it though?” I ask, letting my thoughts run wild with what this could mean.

Maybe he really does need help. He did say they were short staffed, hence the quick hiring he did with me.

Or this could just be a test to see if I’m willing to give up any semblance of a life I have and come into work.

Or and this is a big or, because looking like he does, I don’t think he has to resort to tactics to pick up a girl, but maybe he’s interested in me. Like not me as a chef but me as a girl.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“He’s your boss, Hannah,” I mutter under my breath as Tessa looks back at me as if she heard what I said and is questioning my sanity.

“Why wouldn’t it be? It shows how much you kick ass,” Dylan replies.

“Yeah, but I left my other job so I wasn’t working day and night and on my days off.”

“Leo’s not like that. He wouldn’t call you unless he was desperate. He’s been handling almost everything there on his own for the past few months. I’m sure he’s just happy to have someone who might be able to help him out,” Dylan adds, and I begin to think I’m overreacting.

“You’re probably right.”

“I’m sure you’re thinking about your old job,” Tessa says. “But I can assure you that working at Somerville’s isn’t like that. Leo’s great, and Jack and Lauren are always thinking about their employees and making sure they’re happy.”

I look down at my phone, thinking about the two missed calls, the voicemail and the text, and it’s obvious he’s in a bind.

I need to help him out even if it’s just to alleviate some of his stress, but I also need to be more assertive and tell him this isn’t an everyday thing. Like I’m suddenly that kind of person.

“So should I drop you off at Somerville’s instead?” Dylan asks.

“I’ll text Leo back and tell him I’m coming after we have breakfast. That feels like a good compromise to me.”

“Sounds good,” Tessa answers with Dylan nodding in agreement.

I text Leo back, but I don’t hear anything, assuming he’s probably trying to handle the morning rush and this catering order.

I have to admit, I’m a little nervous. While I’ve always wanted to get into catering, I’ve never handled large scale orders before.

I hope I can hack it or Leo’s going to regret calling me in.

A couple of hours later, I walk in and find the rest of the staff working on lunch orders for Somerville’s, but Leo is nowhere to be seen.

And when I ask where I can find him, they direct me to one of the outbuildings that has been turned into a kitchen to help support the up-and-coming catering business.

It looks like things are going well in the kitchen here at Somerville’s, so I move over to the kitchen at Apple Jacks, checking to see if they’re doing okay. And again, Leo runs a tight ship, because I find everything in order despite the Sunday crowd.

I take the long walk back toward the newly established catering kitchen and this is where I find Leo. I stop in the oversized doorway and watch him work. He’s moving around in a million different directions with multiple burners going on the gorgeous commercial oven in front of him.

I’m in love.

With the space, with the appliances, and maybe even with him. There’s something so fucking sexy about watching this man cook. My stomach flutters and I cross my legs, reminding myself that he is my boss and while he looks like the kind of guy I would totally crawl into bed with, he is off limits.

“Hannah,” he says, startled by me creeping on him from the doorway, but he brushes it off and continues working.

“You’re alone in here,” I comment, almost a question as I look around the large space.

“I am. I told you we’re short staffed, but I couldn’t pass up this opportunity and so I said yes in the hopes that you’d be able to help out and here you are.” He opens his arms, smiling at me and once again I find myself far too turned on by the simple gestures of this man.

“What do you need help with?” I ask, after a few seconds of silence and trying to pull myself together. I really need to stop wondering what he looks like under that chef’s coat and if his tattoos cover more than just his arms.

“Here’s the menu,” he says, handing me a binder. “Luckily it’s all desserts, but the bad news is that they need to go out today.”

I try not to let him see the shock on my face, quickly snapping my mouth shut. Today? He can’t be serious. He lets out a sigh, almost in relief that there’s someone else here to help him and now I wish I would’ve ditched breakfast with Dylan and Tessa and come here to help him out.

“Today?” I ask with a slight bit of hesitation.

“Yeah, today. I probably should’ve said no, but I hate to turn away a client given how new this whole operation is.”

“I get that, and we’ve got this,” I say, sounding more positive than I really am. “What time does the client need everything?”

Leo fills me in while he continues working and I get started. He’s right that this shouldn’t be difficult, it’s the time constraint we’re under that might cause issues.

“Thanks so much for coming in,” Leo says, as the silence begins to fill the room, both of us working too hard to acknowledge the other for a few minutes.

“No problem.”

“I was starting to think I was gonna have to call my dad to come help,” he jokes, smiling over at me, and I swear I think my knees are going to give out when we make eye contact.

But then he pulls off his chef’s coat, revealing a fitted white t-shirt and now I’m definitely going to lose it.

There’s never been a person who looks so good in something so simple as Leo Marsh does right now.

The sleeves hug the defined muscles in his arm, accentuating just how toned he really is and when he raises his arms above his head, stretching, I catch a glimpse of his perfectly flat, taut stomach.

Focus, Hannah!

“Your dad cooks?” I ask, realizing I’ve let a ridiculous amount of time pass between us before commenting, but holy hell it was hard to draw my eyes away from all the gorgeousness standing in front of me.

“Yeah, you could say that. He’d have helped me out if I needed it. My mom too, but I’ll admit I was a little embarrassed about calling my parents and begging for help like a kid.”

“Glad I could help you out,” I answer, finally looking back at him as I tell my body to stop thinking about him naked. Luckily, when I make eye contact with him this time, he has a swipe of chocolate smeared across his cheek.

I bite down hard on my lip to keep from laughing, but all that seems to do is cause Leo’s eyes to widen and focus directly on my mouth.

“You have,” I say, tapping my cheek, and Leo wipes at the wrong side, making me giggle a little.

“Well, shit, glad your laugh is so adorable or I’d feel like a real ass right now,” he says, and I swallow hard.

My pulse ramps up a bit as I step toward him. I reach out, pressing my thumb to his cheek, cleaning away the stray bit of chocolate, and without thinking about it, I suck my thumb into my mouth.

Leo’s mouth falls open slightly and his hand wraps around my wrist, my thumb still in my mouth.

The touch of his skin against mine, the feeling of electricity that shoots through me has my body out of control.

All I can hope is he doesn’t feel how hard my heart is beating, his fingers resting on the pulse of my wrist.

“Hannah,” he whispers, and oh my fucking god, when he tugs on my wrist, my thumb now free from my mouth, I think he’s going to kiss me. He moves closer, his breathing hard and warm against my lips, and my body cries out to just kiss him.

“Yes,” I murmur, and I watch his throat move as he swallows hard, taking in a long slow breath.

“You gotta wash your hands now,” he spits out and I’m fucking mortified.

“Of course. Sorry,” I say, shaking my head at my own stupidity in thinking he was interested in more than just keeping the kitchen hygienic.

What a fucking moron I am!