“Can I get you a beer, Nick?”
“No!” Tasha and I both say in unison.
Then, just like that, all of the stress and tension from Tasha’s ordeal tonight is lifted as she and I look at each other burst into laughter.
“No beer for Nick, Tony,” she admonishes her husband.
Nick glances between us and his eager host. I subtly shake my head at him in warning, but all it earns me is a questioning look. “Actually, I’d love a beer.”
Tony grabs a couple of homebrews from the refrigerator while his mother serves tea to Tasha and me. The older woman doesn’t join us at the kitchen table, instead bids us all goodnight and takes her laundry off to another room.
Nick takes a seat across from me. With a murmured thanks, he accepts his opened beer from Tony, who drops into the chair at the head of the table for six, next to his wife.
“You doing okay, babe?”
She nods. “Better now that I’m home.”
Nick lifts his bottle to take a drink, but pauses when his phone chimes with an incoming call. Saved by the bell. He glances at the screen. “Will you all excuse me? I need to take this.”
He steps out of the kitchen to speak privately, and I’m half tempted to knock his full bottle of beer off the table while he’s gone, if only to spare him from actually tasting it.
Tasha nudges me after Nick’s out of earshot. “What’s going on with you two? I can’t tell if I’m feeling massive sexual energy or a cold war brewing between you guys.”
I let loose a defeated sigh. “Some of both. I think I’m messing things up with him, Tasha.”
“Well, cut it out. He’s really into you in case you haven’t noticed.”
“You think so? Even now?”
She rolls her eyes. “Duh! Every time he looks your way, I can feel the air crackle with heat.”
Tony tugs one of her brown curls. “Kinda like us, eh, babe?”
This time, Tasha doesn’t come back at him with a smartass quip or a dramatic eye-roll. Turning to her husband, she tenderly strokes his cheek. “Yeah, baby. Just like us.”
Nick walks back into the room as they share a sweet kiss. “Sorry about that.” He slips the phone into his pocket. “A business matter I needed to tend to.”
Tony grins at him. “You buy another hotel over in London or Dubai or something?”
“Tony!” Tasha smacks his biceps. “That’s none of your business.”
“It’s all right,” Nick says. “Nothing like that this time. Something more local.”
I eye him, picking up on his cagey answer. And I know him too well to miss the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
He clears his throat as he sits back down at the table. “So, did you like working at Vendange, Tasha?”
“Yeah.” She glances at him and shrugs. “I mean, I wasn’t doing rocket science there or anything, but it was enjoyable enough. The place is always busy, and I enjoy doing lots of different things there—tending bar and looking after inventory, training other employees on the computer and the menus. So, yeah. I liked it.”
Nick contemplates her. “Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”
Tony grins, pulling Tasha affectionately under his arm. “You kiddin’ me? My girl right here is smart as fuck, Nick. She knows that restaurant inside and out. She could run the damn place. Practically does already. Ain’t that right, Avery?”
I nod, feeling the weight of Nick’s gaze slide toward me now. “Tasha’s amazing. She’s driven, hard-working. She can do anything she sets her mind to. The customers love her too.”
“Well, listen, you guys,” she says. “I appreciate this love-fest and all, but none of it matters because I’m never going back to Vendange. Not if I have to get within a hundred yards of Joel.”
Tony grunts. “Damn right you’re not. We’ll get by for a while until you find something else, babe. I don’t want you worrying about it, all right?”
“What if Joel wasn’t there?”
All three of us look at Nick, confused.
“What do you mean?” Tasha asks. “Like, if I press charges or something? Get him arrested and have his ass fired?”
“It’s up to you if you want to press charges.” Nick’s tone is even, but there is something cryptic in his expression. “If he was gone from Vendange for good, would you want to work there?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“How would you like to manage it?”
I gape at him, frowning. “Nick, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying as of tomorrow morning, Vendange is under new management. Mine.”