“Hunter. My last name is Hunter.” Matt says.
I do look up then and he smiles. I feel myself returning his smile as he goes on.
“I grew up in Belfast,” he says. “I was seven when my family moved here. My parents were never particularly strict, but they insisted on manners. I guess my brothers and I were kind of a handful. I’m the eldest of three. Chance is two years younger than me, and then there’s Seb, he’s only a year behind Chance My family was pretty traditional. Dad went out to work and mom stayed at home to raise us.”
“Wow, your mom must be a saint!” I laugh.
“I’m not sure that’s how I would have described her.” Matt laughs. “But she was a good mother. She loved us all so much and we all knew it. And it’s because of her that I developed a love for food. She loved home cooking. She would make every meal from scratch and she would bake the most amazing cakes. She taught me to cook, she taught me how to pair flavors.”
“It’s funny, you sound more like you should be a chef than a waiter.” I smile.
“Maybe you’re right, but I have a love for people too. I like to be social, to work on the ground so to speak. I like seeing people happy.” He shrugs looking embarrassed suddenly, like he’s given too much of himself away.
“I know what you mean. Some customers make our job a pleasure don’t they? But boy, some of them make me feel pretty murderous.”
“Oh, yeah. I get that. I should maybe say, I like the nice people.”
Our waiter reappears with our main courses.
I thank him and dive straight in.
“How did you get into restaurant work?” Matt asks me.
I’m not sure how much to tell him. It’s not something I usually talk about, but then again, Matt has finally opened up to me a little and told me about his family. I guess I owe him the same courtesy. I can’t complain about him keeping himself closed off from me, if I do the same to him. “I just kind of fell into it. There was no particular love for the environment. I basically needed a job that paid well enough to fund my degree, and that had flexible hours. I had a choice; waitressing or bartending, and I decided I would have to deal with less drunken idiots in a restaurant than in a bar.”
Matt raises an eyebrow. “You pay for your own degree?”
“Yeah… my father left my mom before I was even old enough to remember him. And my mom died when I was eighteen, right before I started applying to universities. Our house was rented and we didn’t have money really. Her insurance policy barely covered the funeral and that was it. I was on my own.”
“I’m sorry,” Matt says.
I shrug. “I miss my mom so much. It was always just the two of us. But I’m not worried about paying my way. She always taught me never to get in debt and never to rely on someone else to keep me. I guess the lesson stuck, because I stick around at the restaurant. Even after…” I trail off as the waiter brings our desserts. I smile at Matt. “This looks amazing!” I line my spoon up with the top of the cake. “Are you ready for the ooey, gooey chocolate?” I grin.
“Ooey gooey?” Matt raises a brow at me.
“Yup,” I confirm as I push my spoon into the cake and the sauce spills out. “See?”
“I get it.” Matt laughs.
I try the cake and make an mmm sound. Without thinking, I scoop some up on my spoon and hold it out to Matt. “You have to try this.”
I expect him to take the spoon from me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward and I feed him the cake. He doesn’t take his eyes from mine as he does it, and I have a quick flash of those lips somewhere else, doing something else. Matt grins at me as I shift in my seat, well aware of the effect he’s having on me.
He offers me a taste of his cheesecake and I accept readily, ready to get my own back. I take the bite of cheesecake, which I have to admit is perfection, and I purposely get a bit of cream on my lip, which I then make a show of licking away. Matt smiles and shakes his head. I smirk at him and go back to my dessert secretly pleased that I can have this effect on him.
“Even after what?” Matt asks suddenly.
“Huh?” I ask back.
“Earlier, you said you stick around at the restaurant. Even after… and then you just kind of stopped.”
“Oh yeah. Even after Marco hit on me,” I say. I know instantly it was a mistake. Matt’s face clouds with anger.
“He did fucking what?” he exclaims.
I reach across the table and run my fingers over his hand. “Relax. It was a long time ago. I made it clear I wasn’t interested and he’s never tried it again.” I leave the rest unsaid. The constant dread that it will happen again. The way he treats me as a result of me turning him down. The way I felt cheap for days afterwards, even though nothing happened.
“So that’s why he’s such an asshole to you then,” Matt says.
I’m surprised he noticed. Part of me always thinks it’s all in my head, that Marco is a prick to everyone. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s just a bad manager.”
Matt still looks angry.
Now, I hate that I’ve ruined the mood of our date. “Look can we just forget I mentioned this? I really don’t want to think about work tonight.”
Matt nods slowly and then he smiles at me, a playful smile that sends shivers
