Of Love and Corn Dogs (3 page)

Her lip curled, and Ricky saw she'd been digging her nails into her palm to keep from snapping. When she'd told Ricky that Mr. Kincade had very special requests for the evening, he could barely contain his curiosity.

After Louisa walked out the door, Ricky stepped up to the table.

“Good evening, Mr. Kincade. How are you tonight?”

“Would it be out of line if I asked you to call me Darwin?”

Ricky scrunched his brow. “I'm…not sure Louisa would approve.”

“Oh, I'm very certain she doesn't approve of many things. And, so you know, I really don't care.”

Ricky couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled out of him. Mr. Kincade—Darwin—had to be the only person he'd ever seen get the best of Louisa. He knew good and well she'd take it out on him after the meal, but for the moment, he intended to enjoy it.

“Very well, Mr.…Darwin, I've been told that you have a special order waiting in the kitchen. Are you ready to dine?”

Darwin chuckled and clapped his hands. “Oh, very much. Let's get this show on the road.”

Ricky grinned. Darwin's attitude seemed so different from the last time he'd been at the restaurant, his joy infectious. “I'll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“I look forward to it,” Darwin replied, his cheeky expression growing into a bright smile.

When Ricky entered the kitchen, he noticed a scent he'd never encountered at Asiago before. The aroma tickled his nose and caused his stomach to growl.

“Donnelly,” Chef Michael called out, “get this…food out of my kitchen.”

Ricky approached the line to pick up the cloth-covered tray the food runner had put together for him, but when he went to remove it, the chef slammed a spoon down.

“Don't lift that cover,” the chef snapped. “My instructions were very explicit. You're to take the food to Mr. Kincade, but not to check it until you're in the room with him.”

“But what if something's wrong?” Ricky asked, then took a step back when the prickly chef glared at him.

“Are you saying something might be wrong with my food?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then what are you saying?” he demanded, leaning forward with his big, beefy hands splayed out on the counter. “Spit it out.”

Not wanting to confront the chef, Ricky looked down at the tray. “Louisa told me that everything for Mr. Kincade had to be perfect. She's looking for an excuse to can me, so if I mess up, she'll put me out.” He glanced up, hoping Michael would understand.

The chef's expression softened a touch. “Ricky, if Louisa has a problem, she can come and talk to me. These were Mr. Kincade's instructions, so she doesn't have a pot to piss in.”

Despite Michael's attitude, he never hesitated to stand up for his kitchen staff when Louisa stormed through on the warpath. If he gave his word that everything would be okay, Ricky believed him. He nodded at the chef, then hefted the tray up onto his shoulder, before he darted through the dining room, and up the stairs to the private suite where Mr. Kincade waited.

“Oh, good. I'm glad you're back,” Mr. Kincade called out when he entered the room. “Have a seat.”

What?

“What? Mr. Kincade—” Ricky protested, as he put the tray down on the stand next to the table.

“Darwin,” Mr. Kincade reminded him, a sly grin playing on his lips.

“Darwin… I can't sit down. If Louisa finds me—”

“Your entire service is devoted strictly to me tonight. Louisa is aware of this. So if I want you to sit, then she has nothing to say about it. Of course, if you'd prefer not to, I can understand.”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then sit.”

Ricky crossed his arms and glared at Darwin. “You're used to getting your way, aren't you?”

Darwin nodded. “Of course. Sit down before the food gets cold.”

As Ricky pulled out the chair, Darwin moved over to the tray and removed the cloth. The metal clanged when he tipped the cover of the serving plates slightly, then he chuckled. “Perfect,” he said.

He turned around and pinned Ricky with a stare. “Okay, so I was very rude to you last week when I was here, right?”

“I don't know that I'd say you were rude…” Ricky started, then trailed off, somewhat embarrassed at being reminded about his own behavior that day. But it had been so much fun to play with Darwin, who'd loosened up when he finally calmed down about Roy leaving.

“What was the word you used? Oh, yes, antagonistic. And I was. It had been one surprise after another, and if there is one thing I can't abide, it's being surprised. I took it out on you, and that wasn't fair. So I want to take this opportunity to make it up to you.”

“That's really not—”

Darwin placed two plates on the table in front of Ricky, then turned and picked up two cups that he added to the settings. Ricky stared at the table, then up at Darwin.

“What's—”

“And you said the chef wouldn't make corn dogs. Shows how much you know.”

“You've got this really bad habit of interrupting, you know that?” Ricky said with a frown.

Darwin gave the most infuriating smirk. “Sorry. When I'm in a meeting, it's usually necessary for me to speak up in order to be heard over the noise. I'll try not to make a habit of it.”

The grin told him Darwin really wasn't sorry, and Ricky didn't care. It added another dimension to the man's idiosyncrasies. He wanted to say something, but then he looked at the plates again.

“Wait. This isn't something he cooked. This is from the mini-putts place, right?”

Darwin shrugged. “They brought the stuff from there, but made them here in the kitchen. I believe the chef said he'd cook them over his dead body. I'm sorry for your loss,” Darwin said with a wink.

The snort came out before Ricky could rein it in. “I take it you liked them?”

Darwin took a seat across from Ricky and smiled. “I did. Thank you for suggesting it. My friend Henley said we needed the shakes, too.”

“I…thank you. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. You should be antagonistic more often.”

The warm, rich laugh Ricky received wrapped around him like a caress. For a minute, he forgot why they were there. He picked up his first corn dog and dipped it in the cheese sauce that the chef had served with it. He closed his eyes and moaned slightly.

“Oh, that's so good. I've missed these.”

Darwin cocked his head. “Why?”

“Oh, um…I'm budgeting my money so I can pay off my school loans before I die.” He laughed, and took another bite. “Damn, those are good,” he said with a sigh and closed his eyes as he chewed.

He couldn't believe Darwin had done this. Ricky hadn't been able to afford his favorite food for a while, and he wanted to relish it. He opened his eyes to Darwin staring at him, a smirk plastered on his face.

“What? Did I drip cheese sauce on me or something?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just like the fact you're enjoying the food.”

Feeling his cheeks heat, Ricky dropped his gaze to his plate and muttered, “Sorry.”

“Why? I thought it was nice.”

In an effort to keep from embarrassing himself further, Ricky reached out for his shake cup, and, of course, knocked it over. The light purple liquid oozed out onto the table and began moving toward the edge.

“Oh, damn. I'm sorry, I… Shit. Let me get something to clean it up.”

Ricky ran to the side station and grabbed some serving towels, which he used to try to mop up the mess. When Darwin reached out an arm and dropped it onto the table to impede the flow, Ricky cringed. He didn't know clothes, but with the way Darwin's black suit hugged his physique, it had to have been tailor-made for him.

“Don't. You'll ruin your suit.”

Darwin shrugged. “I have another.”

Ricky mopped up the mess as best he could, creating a pile of cloths that were soaked with the remnants of his shake. There'd be no hiding this, not that he would. He believed in taking responsibility when he'd been wrong, and this one would be a doozy.

“Ah, well,” he said on a sigh, “it wasn't the most glamorous job in the world. I guess I'll have to see if I can find something else.”

“What? Why?”

***

The liquid absorbed by Darwin's sleeve had soaked through to his skin and chilled his arm, but that didn't seem as important as the look on Ricky's face. Darwin hadn't kept the position he had inherited without having ample business acumen. He watched people, read their body language, knew when they handed him a line. Ricky's expression spoke of disappointment tinged with sadness, but also of sincerity.

“I'm not Louisa's favorite,” he explained as he removed the soiled linen from the table and put it onto the empty serving tray. “I shouldn't be telling you this, but what the hell. It's not like it will matter in an hour anyway. Not long after I took Roy's position, she started to take great joy in letting me know every single thing I did wrong. He wiped up more of the shake, then glanced over to meet Darwin's gaze. “My first day of training, she hovered constantly, and let me know whenever I put a salad fork a millimeter out of place. Don't get me wrong, I do understand. Asiago has a reputation, and as the manager, she needs to maintain certain standards, but sometimes I think she just hates me.”

Though Darwin hadn't gone there with any plan other than his apology to Ricky, he found himself studying the man—the gentle curves of his face, the depth of color in his eyes, the radiant smile. Plus, he had an amazing attitude. He'd settled Darwin's discontent during his last visit, despite Darwin's boorish behavior, and Ricky had apologized for not being Roy merely because of his customer's disappointment.

“She's not going to fire you,” Darwin promised. “We simply had an accident. I'll pay for the dry-cleaning if it makes it better.”

Ricky folded the tablecloth back, the stain spreading over the snowy white linen. “Nah, it was my clumsiness, so I'll let her know. But, before I go, let's eat.”

The smile that Ricky had been showing since Darwin arrived had dimmed, and he could clearly see the pain in his eyes.

“Ricky, I—”

“Eat your food. Let's not waste a perfectly good meal worrying about what might happen. If she fires me, then she does. You're spending good money here to wine and dine. The least we can do is make sure the food doesn't go to waste.” Ricky bit into one of the corn dogs. “Damn, these are good.”

With a heavy heart, Darwin poured some ketchup onto his plate and swirled his own dog around in the red puddle. He'd wanted to do something nice for Ricky, to make up for the absolute bastard he'd been the previous week. He'd thought a good dinner, comprised of food Ricky would enjoy, would go a long way toward soothing any remaining hurt feelings. Instead, he'd put the young man's job in jeopardy.

Thoughts collided in Darwin's head. He could offer to pay for Ricky's schooling. It's not like he'd miss the money. But he didn't want to add an insult to the list of his faux pas. Plus, Ricky didn't seem to know who Darwin was, and Darwin found that liberating. Too often in his life, people would react like Louisa, doing as he wanted because he had money. He'd watched his father remind people of who he was on occasion to curry favor, and it had always embarrassed Darwin so much he'd gladly have dug a hole and crawled in.

“Can you excuse me?” Darwin asked. “I'm going to visit the washroom.”

Ricky looked up and gave a watery smile. “Sure. I'm not going anywhere.” He reached across the table and snagged one of Darwin's fries. “But don't blame me if your plate is empty when you get back.”

He walked down the three steps to the dining room floor and made a beeline toward the hostess stand. As much as he hated the idea of behaving like his father, he simply couldn't let Louisa fire Ricky for something so petty.

“Good evening, Mr. Kincade, how may I help you?” the hostess asked.

Darwin opened his mouth to speak when a hand came to rest on his arm. “He's looking for the bathroom,” Ricky told her. “I should have just shown him where it was to start with.”

He dragged Darwin away from the desk and marched him toward the bathroom.

“Here you are, sir. The bathroom is right through that door.” Then quietly he growled, “Leave it alone, Darwin. Whatever happens happens. It's not for you to try to fix. Okay?”

Ricky's tone showed he would brook no argument. It struck Darwin how much of a marked difference there was between Ricky and Roy. Roy had been professional but cold in his interactions. In fact, Darwin couldn't recall ever seeing a genuine smile on the man's face. Ricky, on the other hand, exuded charm and friendliness.

“I know what it is,” Darwin said, his attention still locked on Louisa's office.

“What's that?”

“Why you're not Louisa's favorite. She likes drones. You told me Roy was a good waiter, and that's true. Efficient to a fault. But he had no real personality, at least not on the job. That's what she wants. Asiago is a beautiful place, but it's cold and sterile. You've got warmth and a playful attitude. I don't think it's welcome at a place like this.”

Ricky furrowed his brow. “I never thought about it like that. I tried to be the server Louisa wanted, but I never got it right. It's not in my nature to stop being who I am when I walk in here. I like people, and I want them to have a good time. Maybe I play a little too much.”

“Well, I'm glad you do. You made my day when I was here last week. After several meetings and talking to prospective clients, I wanted to let my hair down and relax. But Roy never gave me that. He had always been courteous, but we never had a conversation beyond how much I enjoyed the food.”

“But you wanted him to say more, didn't you?”