I try to hide my widened eyes from Gavin, shocked to hear such a large number. Gavin was a man of many talents. Apparently, even when it came to driving up donation money.
“Anyway.” He claps me on the back. “I’ve got to get back to the party, I just wanted to say thank you. We’ll be in touch in the future.”
“Sounds great.”
Gavin disappears into the crowd and I turn to finish packing up the rest of the supplies. Max catches up to me as I’m loading the last bit into the company van. One of our servers was supposed to drive it back to the restaurant.
He picks up one of the storage containers, sliding it into the back. “Great job tonight, Logan.”
“Thanks,” I grunt, lifting another tote, sliding it beside the one Max carried.
“I mean it,” he says, shutting the back doors. He rests his hand on the back, leaning all his weight on it. “I wasn’t even worried about checking in on you. All the drinks were served the right way. Appetizers went out on time. Everyone couldn’t stop talking about the dessert.”
“Seriously, Max.” I laugh. “Your compliments are too much.” I place my hand on my stomach, pretending his comments are making me sick.
He releases a small laugh, a serious expression quickly replacing it. “I didn’t tell you, but tonight was a test.”
“A test?” I ask. I cross my arms over my chest, knitting my eyebrows.
“Yeah.” Max nods. He pushes off the van, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his black pants. The sleeves of his chef jacket are rolled up, lined with gold stitching. Max’s jacket was gold since he was the owner of Bistro 59. Since I was executive chef, second in line to Max, mine was silver. “It was a test to see how you could handle this job under a different kind of pressure than in the restaurant. You’ve proven it to me twice now. The first was Gavin’s other fundraiser, which we know was significantly smaller and more intimate than this one.”
When I don’t answer him immediately, he sighs, grinning. “I wanted to offer you the chance to become co-owner of Bistro 59 with me.”
“What?” I ask, breathless. My jaw drops and I run my hands through my hair, pushing it off my forehead. “You want to make me your business partner?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“No, I’m sorry.” I blink in disbelief, shaking my head. “You just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Does that mean you’re in then?” Max stands in front of me, his eyebrows raised, three lines creasing his forehead.
“Yeah.” I nod, closing my dropped jaw. “Fuck, yeah, I’m in.”
Max laughs, pulling me in for a hug. He claps his hands on my back. He steps back, holding out his hand. “Sounds like a deal. I’ll have Candace Sawyer draft up some paperwork and then we’re all set to go.”
“Wait.” I narrow my eyes. “Candace? I thought you hated her.”
“I never said that.” He grins. “She may have been a shitty girlfriend, but she’s an incredible fucking attorney. Woman knows her shit.”
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, still laughing.
Only Max would hire his ex-girlfriend as his attorney.
I say goodbye to him, anxious to get home and tell Lena the good news.
By the time I pull into my driveway, the sky is an intense shade of black. Clouds roam across the black canvas, blanketing over the moon.
I open the door and disarm the security system, then lock it again after I close the door. I remove my chef jacket and hang it on the hook, turning around to find Lena sitting at the dining room table. All the lights are off except for the small glow coming from her phone sitting on the table in front of her.
I narrow my eyes. “Lena?” My hand searches the wall for the light switch. When I finally find it, I turn it on, the lights shining bright from the chandelier overhead. “What are you sitting in the dark for?”
Her skin is pale, black mascara running down her cheeks. Tears continue to fall, wet marks seeping into the cotton of her T-shirt. Her pale brown eyes are rimmed with a crimson shade of red, swollen from crying. She clears her throat. “Um.” She swallows. “Are you having an affair?”
“What?” I ask her. My throat sounds hollow, empty. Blood drains from my face and my heart hammers in my chest.
“Are you having an affair?” she asks again. This time her voice is strong, pounding through her clenched teeth.
“No,” I tell her. “Of course not.”
She doesn’t speak and I step farther into the room. I place my hands on the back of the chair in front of me. Her phone is still illuminated but I can’t tell what’s on the screen from where I’m standing.
“Don’t lie to me, Logan.”
“I’m not lying.” I lean forward, dipping my head to get a better view of her face. She’s staring down at the table. “Lena,” I say her name, begging her to look at me, repeating the same words. “I’m not lying. Why would you even think such a thing?”
Slowly, she lifts her gaze, her tear-filled eyes meeting mine. Her blonde hair falls around her face, half-covering her tear-stained cheeks. The silence swells between us, and my stomach climbs into my throat. I’ve never seen her this way. Hurt weighs on her shoulders. Her hands are resting on her lap, below the table. She bites her bottom lip, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at me. They dart away from me, staring at the wall. She lifts her hand from below the table and slides her phone to me.
I lean over the chair, bending to pick it up. The closer I bring the phone up to look at it, the more I understand what she’s showing me. Pictures of me and Natalie. Pictures of us at work, at the market, the night in the parking lot where she kissed me.
I quickly