smiled, heading directly toward her. Calla met him halfway with a hearty hug.
“Calla, what a wonderful surprise.”
“I have a friend visiting from Texas. I couldn’t let him leave the city without tasting your amazing burritos.”
Calla lead Diego back to the table and she saw Gideon watching them, his eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tight.
“Gideon, this is Diego Jones, the owner and the chef. And the guy who saved my butt in sauces back in school.”
“Nice to meet you, Gideon,” Diego said heartily, shaking Gideon’s hand. “Dinner is on the house tonight. I got my hands on some fresh stone crab today, and I’m using it for late-night special burritos. Do you like seafood?”
Calla smiled. Diego was one of the warmest and most generous people she knew, and it came out in his personality and his cooking.
“A crab burrito?” Gideon said, somewhat skeptically.
Calla squeezed Diego’s arm as she levered herself back up into her chair. “Trust me, you won’t want to miss it.”
“Bring it on, then,” Gideon said with another slight smile.
“I hope you’ll enjoy it. Calla, you need to not be such a stranger.”
Diego kissed her cheek before being called by another table; he backed away with a smile.
“Believe me, you won’t ever find any food like what you are about to have here. His combinations of flavors and textures are mind-blowing.”
Gideon nodded. “You two seem...close.”
“We are. I’ve always been more of a baker than a cook, and I met Diego in a course on sauces. I was botching it entirely. He saved my bacon...or my sauce, I suppose. He spent a lot of time out of class helping me perfect my technique.”
“For sauce?”
“Well, yeah, what else?”
“It certainly is a popular place,” Gideon commented as a server delivered two huge, colorful margaritas to their table.
Calla watched him touch the glass, picking up a strange vibe. He was tense, suddenly quiet, and even a bit surly.
Was Gideon jealous?
And why did that idea make her have to fight a female sense of satisfaction? She and Gideon weren’t an item. They weren’t even in a relationship. In a few days he’d be gone.
She was probably imagining his reaction. He was very likely just tired.
“Calla? Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes, sorry. I was just thinking about this place. He doesn’t even advertise, which is amazing,” Calla said wistfully. “He has a terrific product, good food and word spreads about things like that.”
“You have a terrific product, too. But he seems to cater to a local area, like you said. He grew up here. He can feed fifty people at a time, every night. You can only make one cake at a time. It’s completely different.”
“You’re right. I lose perspective sometimes.”
Like right now? It felt so good to confide in Gideon. To share her burdens and have someone’s support. She could easily lose perspective if she didn’t take care.
“It will work out. You’re too talented for it not to,” he added, pulling her hand up to his lips.
Calla shivered at the touch of his mouth on her skin, and relented.
“Probably a hundred talented chefs fail here every day,” she said realistically.
“You won’t be one of them,” he said, holding her gaze and flicking his tongue out to taste the back of her pinky finger. That scrambled her thoughts immediately.
Their food was delivered just in time to divert their attention and reset the magic of the evening. Calla was relieved, as she really didn’t want this to end.
Not yet.
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