Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

N athan finished his work week, which was Friday’s midday meal, and then he headed toward his baby tiny house.

He was exhausted, all the way to the bone, and he was going to take a long, cold shower, and then crash and burn like a crashing, burning thing.

Jesus, some days were harder than others. He’d done all the inventory and ordering, made up a million box lunches, cooked two breakfast shifts, and taught the little bit to make pain perdu before she’d gone to a little summer school catch-up at Wat’s.

He stumbled to the kitchen door of his house, and he almost let out a girlish shriek when someone stepped up next to him. He barely managed to hold it in.

Sophie’s cousin, Ames, appeared like a ghost, big and tall and rustic.

“Shit!” He stumbled, bouncing against the door hard enough to jostle himself and rattle his teeth.

“Whoa. Whoa, sorry.” Ames caught him as he staggered, holding him up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you head out, and I wanted to talk for a sec. Then I’ll let you have your downtime.”

“Oh. Sure. Sure, you want to come in?” The sun was blazing down, and, while he wasn’t hot, it was drying him out from the outside in.

Ames gave him a searching type of once-over, then nodded. “Sure. Thanks. I appreciate it. Man, you look a little peaked.”

“Just need some water.” He smiled, hoping it seemed honest. “Still grappling with the lack of humidity.”

“Crap. I bet you are. You gotta love a swamp cooler then, huh?”

“Yes. Yeah—I’d never seen such a thing before, but it’s amazing.” He headed for the fridge and a pitcher of icy water with lemon and ginger steeped in. “Would you like a glass?”

“I would, thanks.” Ames leaned on the wee kitchen counter. “Anyway, I wanted to thank you for teaching Sophie about cooking. She’s really into it, and it’s been an amazing distraction for her.”

“She’s a crazy cool kid, and she’s got real talent. I think it’s one of a chef’s biggest responsibilities—mentoring.” He grabbed two glasses and the ice trays out of the freezer. “She seems to be calming down, especially now that her things are here.”

Sophie had told him how much of a drama that had been—how Ames’s mother had tried to steal the girl’s things, the house. It sounded like drama to the nth degree.

“She is. That was a battle and a half.” Ames’s mouth flattened into a straight line. “My mother is a hard woman.”

“I’m sorry. Mine had been—not mean, just desperate.” He frowned at himself. Shut up, man.

“About what?” Ames sat down in one of the two chairs he’d squeezed into the kitchenette.

“Hmm? Oh, she worked three jobs, had three kids in a one-bedroom kind of thing.” He’d been dirt poor, but he hadn’t been miserable. Austin was a great place to grow up.

“Ah. Hardscrabble. I get that.” Ames gave him a remembering kind of smile. “I was lucky that way. We didn’t have a pot to piss in, but we had some land and a lot of family.”

“We were in the city, so we had kids to play with.” It hadn’t been a miserable life; it had been hard.

Ames hooted, a sound that made him smile with how wry it was. “My older cousins and I spent a lot of time poking each other with cattle prods. They weren’t terribly fond, but that was okay. I had the animals.”

They’d played with toys they’d dumpster dived for, and there were always tons of them.

“Anyway,” Ames took the glass Nathan handed him. “It means a lot that you’re willing to help her out, and I apologize for being such an ass your first week here.”

“No problem. I wasn’t at my best.” He still wasn’t at his best, to be honest, but he was better.

“You having an easier time?”

“Tired.” He was drooping.

“Oh, shit.” Ames drank part of his drink. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You want to sit? I have two chairs.” He didn’t mind company. He only wanted to sit on his ass.

“Sure. I would love that.” Ames moved with him to the other room, sitting opposite him.

He was embarrassed that he didn’t have his old condo, his art, but it was all gone to pay creditors. All of it.

Ames didn’t seem to notice. He sipped his water, then hummed. “I really like the lemon and…”

“Ginger.”

“Nice touch.”

“Thanks. I find it…comforting?”

“Sure. I can see that.” Ames glanced around. “Are you okay with this? The tiny home thing? There are other options.”

“This comes with the job.”

“I guess it does.” Ames studied him again. “Do you want something to eat?”

He sighed and shook his head, his cheeks heating. “I was considering ordering onion rings and green chile and pepperoni pizza.”

“No shit?” Ames eyes went wide. “I mean, you wanna? Sophie is going out with Elijah and his friend Sean and Sean’s mom after the makeup session is over today.”

“God, yes. Sometimes I want to eat something someone else made.” And he didn’t want to think. He wanted something greasy and spicy and crunchy.

“I bet.” Ames grinned. “I was going to offer to make one of my few specialties. Pancakes. But pizza is always a good option. And onion rings? Oh yeah.”

“I love them.” He hated frying them, and he was supposed to be super-duper healthy chef man right now, but he wanted them today.

“Cool. You want me to order? I know all the delivery kids.”

“Hell, yeah. I’m in. Do they just come in, or do I have to meet them somewhere?”

“They’ll come to the ranch. I’ll tell them which house you are. They all know how to get in the gate.”

He chuckled. “You’re a handy guy.”

“I try.” Ames shot him a look. “Do I get to tease you about trashy food?”

“Sure. I won’t listen, though.”

“Of course not.” Ames chuckled. “That’s okay. Sophie cooked chicken cordon bleu for me last night. It was good. You’re great with her, did I mention?”

“She’s a sweetheart, and she’s been dealt a couple vicious blows.” And he loved people who loved food.

Ames nodded, his expression serious. “I’m sorry her momma died, but I’ll be honest. She’s better off out of that place.” He pulled out his phone, calling in their pizza order.

Ouch.

That sucked.

Sophie didn’t say much about her past or her mother, so he didn’t push either. It seemed the best.

“Pizza procured. And onion rings.” Ames winked, his smile easier than Nathan had ever seen, he thought. “So did you really never have a pet?”

“What?” He grinned and shrugged one shoulder, not sure where Ames would have heard that. Still, it was true. “I didn’t. We didn’t have the money or the room, then I was in college, and then I was working sixteen hours a day.”

And drinking and fucking around for ninety percent of the rest, if he were honest.

“That’s wild to me. I mean, not the working. Just…kids without pets. I’m so damn country, I guess.” Ames made a wry face. “We made pets out of everything.”

“We had pet rocks. No shit. Mom glued googly eyes on them.” His had been named Oscar.

“Easy care, huh?” Ames shrugged. “A busy mom. I can see it.”

He nodded. “We did fine. We were all creative.”

Stacey had her MFA in ceramics, Olivia played violin in a symphony in Oregon, and he cooked.

“I bet. You put stuff together I’ve never even heard of. And that’s not an insult.”

“Fusion isn’t hip right now, but there’s something about the balance that does it for me.” And it was fun—cooking, putting flavors and experiences together for diners.

“I’m trying to be more open, if nothing else for Sophie’s sake. Your food is good, man. I’ve never been all that adventurous.” Ames seemed so much more…relaxed. It was interesting.

“I get that. My pride was hurt.” And he was still hurt—it was improving, but it still hurt. This wasn’t what he was meant to be doing. This wasn’t his calling.

Thank God that the Chiaras seemed to understand, that they really tried to let him be himself, or he’d shatter.

“I’m sorry for that.”

He chewed his lower lip for a moment. “It wasn’t just you.”

“I wondered about that. I mean, you’re an award-winning chef according to Sophie. I decided you had to be licking some wounds.” Ames gave him a steady stare. “This is a good place for it.”

“It is what it is. I had a restaurant I loved. It’s gone, and I’m here. There’s a learning curve.” Altitude was a thing. Hell, water boiled at one hundred and ninety-five degrees here.

“I’m sorry.” Ames seemed sincere, so he was going to take it at face value.

“Me too. Thank you for letting Sophie experience her passion.” That was important. Even if Sophie didn’t become a chef, that didn’t matter. The passion mattered.

“I’m not gonna tell her no on anything that’s reasonable. On the other hand, if she starts doing stuff that puts her in danger.” That got him a glinting grin. “Now, she is a teenager. She might rebound and become stupid anytime.”

Hell, teenagers did come in size stupid more often than not, so he got that.

“Oh, I do understand that on a personal level, and I have the feeling, Mr. Paulson, that you do too.” He’d, in fact, had a ton of stupid human tricks under his belt.

“Oh, I do.” Ames laughed, the sound merry as hell. “I was not even a teenager when I did a lot of my shit.”

“Early bloomer, were you? Well, damn. I was in a kitchen at thirteen, and I grew up there.” He winked, drinking down another water. “Did you know you can’t deep-fry a shirt?”

“Nope. I know eggs will explode.” Ames leaned forward. “What happens to the shirt?”

He threw his hands up, dramatic as all get out. “Nothing! I was so damn disappointed. Spaghetti noodles curl up, though. Totally cool.”

“Oh, I’ll have to try that with Sophie.” Ames laughed again, and they chatted until the pizza came, which Ames got up to pay for.

He was feeling better, too. Less exhausted. Happier.

He would put in for his half, no problem. “Do you want some remoulade to dip your onion rings?”

“Now that I’ve heard of but never tried. Sure. I’ve never been a ketchup guy. Ranch, yes? Mostly chipotle ranch.”

“Spicy!” He winked. He got that. He was a Texan, after all. “I make a wasabi ranch that is amazing.”

Especially on a spicy tuna taco…

“I like wasabi.”

“You eat sushi?”

“When I get to Santa Fe or Albuquerque, yeah. We don’t really even have grocery store sushi up here.” Ames opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice.

“No? That’s wild. I’ve made it a few times. I’m no master, but I can make a hand roll.” He put a bowl of remoulade down between them. “But like pizza, I’d rather eat it out.”

The onion rings were still hot, still crispy, and he might have moaned over the first bite. Loud.

“I get that. It’s like there are certain things that you can’t make taste the same at home, right?”

“That’s it.” He dipped an onion ring. Still holding up even though they’d traveled. Amazing. “And then there’s the whole standing over the fryer. That’s one of my least favorite things.”

“Just too hot, or is it the burning?” Ames licked at the sauce. “That’s nice.”

“Thanks. It’s one of my favorite dips.” He licked his fingers clean. “It’s the smell of the hot oil. So greasy and sweaty, you know?”

“I do. I feel that way about branding season, not to put you off your food. The smell is intense, and all I can smell for weeks is that.”

“Oh, gross. Burned hair is the worst. The absolute worst!” He got that. There was stuff that happened in the creation of a job that sucked.

“But this pizza is exceptional tonight.”

It really was. The green chile was spicy, the pepperoni a little greasy; it was amazing.

“It’s perfect. Just what I was craving.” The camaraderie was even better. He wasn’t used to being alone all the time. He was grateful Ames had decided to bury the hatchet, at least for now. That way he had company for a meal.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so too. I do love a green chile pizza.” Ames grinned at him. “I didn’t think you were going to be nice.”

“Ditto.” He sighed. “But we decided to try.”

“We did. I like it.”

Oh. Oh, good. “Well, me too.”

Ames dipped another onion ring. “This was a great idea, man.”

“Yes.” He was enjoying this a lot, and that was weird. “So, do you work on the weekends?”

“Depends on who’s on vacation. Usually not, but the guys all get family time off, and I’ll fill in here and there. As a rule the newest guys work weekends with someone on call to help out.”

“Ah, but you have a family now, hmm? You’ll be having those times off too?”

“I guess?” Ames blinked at that. “I mean, it will only be a few years before she goes off to school.” Ames shrugged. “And Kase and Ryder love her already, so she can stay with them anytime. But I would like to take her somewhere on vacation.”

“Oh, cool.” He loved traveling, and he’d be willing to do that again soon. Maybe in five years or so. He hadn’t done it in a long time… “Where would you go?”

“Someplace foodie but west… San Francisco, maybe? Portland or Seattle?” Ames shrugged. “I’d love to take her to Texas, but?—”

“Yeah. I get you.”

“It’ll be good, I hope.”

“I bet. I have some thoughts about Seattle.” Nathan said.

“You do?” Ames gave him an encouraging glance. “I’m down for the help.”

“Cool. She’ll love Pike’s Place market.”

“That’s the place with the fish tossing?” Ames asked.

“You have no idea…”