If You Love Something by Jayce Ellis

Author:Jayce Ellis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2021-10-13T20:15:26+00:00

Malik

I could count on one hand the number of times in the last year we’d been this swamped when we opened the doors. Any day. When I’d told DeShawn Sundays were our best day, I wasn’t lying, but by best I meant twenty to thirty couples would show up altogether. Not at the same time.

But that’s where we were the minute I opened the doors. And not just the regulars, the ones who’d been here before big business took over. We had faces I’d never seen before, lookie-loos who I’m sure were far more interested in what a celebrity chef was doing in this hole-in-a-wall spot than the food itself. But by god, we’d take it.

I put on my best game face, because I hated serving nearly as much as James did. I just hadn’t spent my youth trying to get out of it. But we had two servers on staff for Sundays, a third coming in later, during our busiest hours. We needed three, not now, but right now.

And for a while it was fine, because I was the unknown. I heard the whispers as I circulated, about whether DeShawn was actually there, then comments about how, even if he wasn’t, the food was really good so it was okay to stay for a while, and I hid my smile. Sheila’s motto had always been “You get them in the door, I’ll reel ’em in.” She’d be thrilled to know just how right she was, especially since DeShawn had prettied up the offerings.

But I knew what the people wanted, and when I went back to load up a few more trays, I said so. “Chef DeShawn, I think they’re clamoring for your presence.”

He turned and looked at me, his eyes bright with a joy I hadn’t seen in way too long. Even on the spots I knew he’d wanted when we were together, the ones I could watch before he became really big and I had to flip the channel. “Yeah? Time for us to make the rounds?”

“Time for you to make the rounds,” I corrected. “They’re not even remotely interested in me.”

“They are. Trust me.” He stepped back and removed his apron, then walked to the edge of the kitchen before letting his hair down. This was the polar opposite of the DeShawn folks got at the restaurant, the one who, despite his bad-boy persona, still had to maintain some level of professionalism. No, this DeShawn wore no jacket, let his hair fall entirely loose, and looked for all the world like a regular guy. As much as was possible for him.

But when he stepped out the kitchen and onto the main floor, a cheer went up. He laughed and smiled and pulled me by my pants to kiss me. The crowd gasped, and DeShawn pulled back and arched a brow before turning to the crowd. “Did he not tell you who he was? Y’all thought he was just a regular server?”

A chorus of yeses. DeShawn looked at me with mock exasperation, and I shrugged.

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