A Taste of You (17 page)

“Just come,” Andi had said. And he had dropped everything and walked out of Rotolo’s.

Andi had the door to the restaurant open for him before he got out of the cab.

“Where is he?” He didn’t stop walking. Andi had long legs; she could keep up.

“Prep.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

They rounded the corner, and Carlo saw Matt standing in the hallway. Carlo would have preferred Hector, but Matt seemed to be in control of the situation. He looked relaxed, just a guy loitering in the hallway, but Carlo knew no one had been allowed to disturb Garrett in the next room.

Matt moved aside as Carlo and Andi approached. Two more steps, then Carlo could see around the corner to Garrett. He stood and watched for a minute.

“How many tables still in the dining room?”

“Just one.”

“I want everyone out as soon as they leave.”

“They’re breaking down the line now,” Matt said. “But we’ll need to get back here to—”

“I said get everyone out.”

“Okay, boss.” Matt didn’t argue. “What should I tell them?”

“Not a damn thing.”

Carlo looked between Andi and Matt then back at Garrett. He wanted,
needed
to get to Garrett, and he didn’t want them to be disturbed. But Andi and Matt needed to do their jobs if he wanted the restaurant cleared.

“I’ll get Grace,” Matt said, understanding his dilemma. “She’s always texting a mile a minute as soon as her shift is over. This is as good a place as any for her to do it. She’ll understand why she’s here, and she won’t disturb you.”

Carlo nodded. Then all the details were taken care of, and he could finally focus on the reason he had come.

He stepped into the room with Garrett, who stood at the counter nearest the office. Flour covered the surface in front of him, bits of dough, egg, filling. The counter wasn’t the only thing trashed. Bits of pasta stuck to the wall, where it looked like they had been flung, more lay mashed on the floor. A smear of flour and filling ran down the side of Garrett’s face.

Someone who only knew Garrett from TV might not have seen anything wrong with the picture—the temperamental chef was just working on something new.

No one who had actually worked with Garrett would be fooled for a second.

Garrett kept his work area meticulously clean and organized. He would never, ever bring a dish to Ransom that hadn’t already been perfected in his kitchen at home. In some ways, the Chef Ransom Show existed even behind the scenes in his own restaurant. Yes, Garrett expected a lot from his crew, but the bar he set for himself was astronomically higher, and no one could ever see him miss it.

As Carlo watched, Garrett set a piece of tortellini on the tray in front of him. He looked at it for a second then picked it up and dropped it into the trashcan next to him. There were several rows of pasta still on the tray. Garrett considered each piece briefly, smashed them one by one with his thumb, then picked up the tray and dumped them all in the trash.

“Garrett?” Carlo kept his voice low as he approached.

Garrett ignored him and reached for the next wrapped ball of dough sitting next to him.

Carlo put his hand over Garrett’s, stopping the movement.

“Sweets? You want to take a break?”

Garrett didn’t answer, but when Carlo took the dough and moved it out of his reach, he didn’t protest either. Carlo kept Garrett’s hand, pulling it closer to him so he could massage it gently.

“You’re supposed to be in Brooklyn.”

“No, babe. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” And he was. He had realized that the minute Andi had called his cell tonight. “What about you? Where do you need to be?”

“I’m going to California in the morning.”

Garrett, with his flour covered hands and face, still hadn’t looked at him. It was killing him.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, babe.”

“I can’t break my contract with the show, and I’ve got to get the restaurant open.”

“Garrett.” Carlo reached for Garrett’s other hand, tugged until the man was at least facing him, if not looking at him. “Garrett. If you don’t want to go, we’ll work it out.”

And, Holy Mother, he felt like shit because he wanted that to be it. Garrett was obviously in pain, more pain than Carlo had ever seen him, and Carlo wanted it to be because of him. There was no penance that could eradicate the stain this would leave on his soul, but it didn’t change the way he felt. He would burn in hell, and he didn’t care. He wanted Garrett to be broken because of him.

He would make it okay, he swore. He would love Garrett with all his heart until this pain was washed away, and Garrett would see it was all worthwhile. If only Garrett needed him enough to stay.

Garrett finally looked up at him, and Carlo’s heart stopped as he waited for the words.

“I want to go, Carlo. I know the contracts can be broken. I don’t want to break them.”

So Garrett saved Carlo’s soul from the fires of hell and brought the agony of the damned to him all at once. He could feel the pain welling up inside of him, too big to be contained. Then Garrett collapsed against him, and he didn’t know whose pain he held.

“Then what is it, babe? What’s wrong?”

Carlo stroked Garrett’s head and didn’t mention the fact that Garrett had been making pounds and pounds of Nonna’s tortellini. What did that mean, if Garrett only wanted to leave?

“I can’t do it by myself.” Garrett whispered against his chest. “Everyone hates me.”

“What? Sweets, are you kidding? Look around this place. We’ve got the most talented crew in the city, and they all came here to work for you. You’re their goddamn god.”

“They
came
here because of me. They stay because of you. Without you, they’ll all leave me. I need you, Carlo. I need you with me. Not just here. I need you here and in L.A. and in Dubai. Please, Carlo. It won’t work without you.”

I need you
. The words he wanted to hear, just not the context.

“Garrett,” he said. “I’m here. You don’t have to do everything alone. I’m right here.”

Dubai? What was that about?

“I don’t want you
here
. I want you to come with me to California. I want you to open Ransom with me just like we did here. And you can’t come. You’re in Brooklyn with Joey. And I understand. I want Ransom. You want Rotolo’s. I understand.”

Carlo thought about the words Garrett was saying and not saying. He looked at the counter covered in pasta. Then he took the leap because maybe Garrett just needed words from him.

“I’ll come with you if you want me, Garrett. I lo—”

Garrett pushed away from him, eyes frantic. “No, Carlo. No. Don’t say it.”

Garrett’s panic was catching. Carlo battled it back because they couldn’t both melt down in the back room of Ransom.

“But I need to tell you—”

“I don’t want you to.”

Just like that, Garrett was back. He pulled away from Carlo and stood up straight.

“Let’s go home. I have a flight to catch in the morning.”

He looked around. “And get someone in early to take care of this, please.”

Garrett went into the office and gathered his things while Carlo stood in the prep room with his world imploding. What happened now?

What happened was Garrett came back out and said, “I’m sorry, Carlo. I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you. I know you can’t leave right now.”

Carlo didn’t know what to say.
That’s it
?
I’m sorry and back to business as usual?

“Garrett,” he finally said. “I’m still your partner. I can come to California if you need me. I can make some short trips, just like you do to check on things here. You don’t have to be alone. We can work this out.”

“You’re Joey’s partner, too. We’ll talk about it when you’re comfortable leaving Rotolo’s for more than an evening at a time.”

“Okay.” Carlo didn’t know what else to say. Things weren’t okay, but nothing better came to mind.

He let the misery and frustration build all the way back to his apartment, which Garrett had still referred to as
home
. As horrible as the night had been so far, they still hadn’t addressed the issue Carlo had been avoiding for the last few weeks. Tonight wasn’t a good time; he knew that. They were both already upset. But they had run out of time.

He waited until they were getting ready for bed. He couldn’t sleep with Garrett tonight without knowing.

“When you’re in California, are we still…?”
What? Exclusive not-boyfriends? Together at all? Or is this it?

“Yes.”

One word.

“Then why? Garrett, why won’t you let me tell you I love you?” He hadn’t meant to say that, but he wouldn’t take it back. “I love you, Garrett.”

A muscle twitched next to Garrett’s mouth, and Carlo wondered if Garrett would tell him again not to say the words. Too late. He had already said them.

“I love you, too. Carlo, we’re best friends, we’re partners, if it makes you happy we can be boyfriends.” He sounded as if the last word had been dragged out of him. “
Of course
I love you. But you’re not
in love
with me. A month ago you were
in love
with some other asshole. It’s not real.”

“No,” Carlo said. He should have cleared this up before. Was that what had upset Garrett?

“No, Garrett. There was never anyone but you. I’ve always been in love with you.”

If anything, Garrett got more withdrawn. “Carlo, please don’t leave Rotolo’s because you think you’re in love with me. It won’t work.”

“Why?” Carlo didn’t understand.

“Because I wouldn’t leave Ransom for you.”

Chapter Fifteen

Carlo lay on his side in their bed. And, yes, it was
their
bed now, not his. He didn’t think it would ever be just his bed again no matter how far away Garrett went, even Dubai.

Garrett had finally acknowledged their relationship, but for the first time ever, they lay in bed facing opposite walls and not touching each other. Garrett had said he loved him. Why did it hurt so much?

“Carlo?”

He didn’t answer. What could he say?

“Carlo?”

The bed shifted, and he felt Garrett’s hand stroke down his back.

“I don’t want to leave this way.”

Tomorrow, a continent would separate them. Tonight, only pain flowed in an ocean between them.

“Say it again.”

Garrett didn’t pretend not to understand. He moved closer, skin-to-skin, vanilla and sugar seeping like morphine into the pain. Lips touched Carlo’s back, his shoulder, his ear.

“I love you.” A breath of air so soft the words might not have existed.

Then no words at all while the ocean receded.

****

“Are you kidding me?” Carlo snagged the plate off a passing tray. He ignored the server trying frantically to retain control of the unbalanced tray and shoved the dish back across the pass. “That’s not going on a table. Re-plate this so it looks like something a human being might want to eat.”

He opened his mouth to give the expediter a piece of his mind, too, but Joey interrupted him.

“Carlo.”

“What?” he snapped.

Joey’s face turned red, but he only said, “Can I see you in the back for a sec?”

Carlo took a deep breath and followed Joey into the walk-in refrigerator in the back. “Make it quick. Obviously, one of us needs to be up front, or they’ll send out anything.”

“Maybe,” Joey said. “You just need to take a second to cool down.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re tired. It means all the flying back and forth across the country has scrambled your brains. It means there was nothing wrong with that dish.”

Carlo opened his mouth to tell Joey
in detail
the things wrong with it, but Joey held up his hand.

“This ain’t Ransom. If the sauce is off-center, it still goes out.”

“No, this
isn’t
Ransom. At Ransom, we have
standards
for the food.”

“Don’t you say one word about how that chicken was cooked.”

“The plate looked like shit.”

“The plate looked fine. Jesus, you sound just like Garrett. Next thing you’ll want to cut the portion sizes down to half a bite and serve everything on a bed of flowers.”

“There is no reason for the portions to be so big.”

“This isn’t about the portions, and you know it.”

Carlo opened his mouth to argue then closed it when he realized he and Joey were having an out-and-out screaming match in the walk-in during a shift.

“Carlo.” Joey sighed. “This place is my dream. I could never have gotten Rotolo’s open on my own. I owe you big time, and I love working with you. But you don’t belong here.”

“What do you mean? This restaurant is my dream, too. If I hadn’t met Garrett, we would both be running Nonna and Grandpa Frank’s restaurant right now.”

“Yeah,
if
. But that’s not what happened. You met Garrett, and the two of you started Ransom. That’s where you belong.”

“I’ll be at Ransom tomorrow night. I can have both.”

“Not Ransom. With Garrett. You belong with Garrett. Why are you here, Carlo?”

“I am with Garrett. You just said I make trips.” And that worked for them just
fine
. He ignored the voice that asked what the commute between Bay Ridge and Dubai would be like.

“He’s so damn skittish. Why do I have to be the one to take all the risks?”

Joey stared at him incredulously. “You? He’s scared spitless of a relationship.
Madonn’
. What you said about his parents. How could he not be?” Joey advanced on Carlo, hands waving. “He doesn’t even know what a relationship looks like. But what does he do with you? He drags you around the country with him after college. He makes you a partner in his business. He seduces you. He doesn’t want you to be with anyone else. And when he left, he
asked you to come with him.
”

“As his partner.”

“And they call you the smart one?” Joey threw his hands in the air. “Yes, as his partner. He’s your partner. You’re his partner. You’re so hung up on these words and labels. You want to be his boyfriend? He’s had a million boyfriends. He’s only got one partner. When you took on a second partner, he went ape-shit.”