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When the fries were in the oven, Bruno took his position in front of the stove and prepared the ribeyes, cognizant of Marissa standing nearby with her back resting against the counter, arms folded across her waist as she watched him work.
“Have you ever had a dish that didn’t perform well in one of your restaurants?” she asked.
He turned over the steaks. “Several times. It happens, no matter how much testing we do. One of the dishes I’m replacing on The Wine Cork’s menu when we reopen is the tartare. It didn’t perform well, so it’s out. According to my brother, Ignacio, few people want to eat raw meat.”
“He’s not wrong.”
“No, he’s not,” Bruno admitted. “Location is important. The dish is a hit in my restaurant in Nice, and I wrongly assumed I could make it work here, as a sort of delicacy.”
“Not so much, huh?” Marissa said, with a wrinkled nose.
“Not so much,” Bruno confirmed. He spooned melted butter from the pan onto the steaks.
“Ignacio is the one who has the friend that referred you to us, correct?”
“That’s him. He’s an actor, in town right now filming a guest role on a TV show. He enjoys working on smaller projects in between movies, and this particular show was a no-brainer since filming in Atlanta meant he could spend time with family.”
Marissa blinked, and her mouth fell open. “How did I not make the connection before? Ignacio Santana is your brother?”
Bruno chuckled. “Yes, and your reaction is the reason why he has the biggest ego of anyone in the family.” He removed the steaks from the pan and set them on a plate to rest.
“I can’t really blame him. He’s a great actor. I love his action movies, but his indie films show his range.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him how much you enjoy his indie work.” He added the romaine lettuce chunks to the same pan for searing. “He also detested a meatloaf recipe I created for my restaurant in Miami. I can’t say I blame him. The entrée wasn’t my best work and never ended up on the menu.”
“What do you miss about working in the kitchen?”
He looked at her. “Is this part of the process, to help you match me with the right woman? Or are you simply curious?”
“A little of both, but mostly curiosity.”
Bruno returned his attention to the pan. “I miss everything. The creative process of coming up with new recipes, experimenting with flavors, like a mad scientist, the energy from working in a kitchen with a group of people who are as dedicated to the frantic pace as you are.” He laughed softly. “I miss the immediate feedback from customers and the reward of seeing their faces light up when they eat something I made. The way yours did earlier.”
He would like to see other expressions on her face. Ecstasy. Satisfaction from a night of passionate lovemaking.
“What do you not miss?”
“I love it all. There’s nothing I don’t miss.” Bruno turned the wedges to let the other sides sear.
“That is a lie. Come on, you’re talking to little old me, Marissa.”
“Fine, but I’ll only answer your question if you tell me what you enjoy about your work as a matchmaker.” He slid a glance at her. She was good at getting him to open up but tended not to share as much.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “I love…” She paused, a faint smile coming to her pretty, kissable-looking lips. “I love being the one to connect people who might not have met otherwise, and knowing that I’ve helped them find companionship is very rewarding. Getting couples together, watching people fall in love and knowing I played a part in that is indescribable. Each match is unique, and listening to the recap of the dates can be fascinating at times.”
The way her face lit up, she obviously enjoyed her work. Her expression couldn’t be faked.
“Is there anything you dislike?” Bruno asked.
“Um… I hate to see people disappointed or experience heartbreak.” Her eyes clouded over, evidence of the emotional toll of watching her clients hurt. “Sometimes they get discouraged if they don’t find a match right away, which is why we set expectations up front and let clients know that finding a love match could take up to a year. The heartbreak and disappointment is worse if one person had a great time and was optimistic, but the other party was not interested at all.
“I also don’t like working with clients who have unrealistic expectations. Some of them have a ridiculous checklist and managing those expectations can be challenging—to say the least.”
“How were my expectations?” Bruno asked.
“Not bad. I was surprised.”
“Surprised? Why?”
