Page 31 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

10

BEAU

Heavy boxes of bottles litter the floor of the storage closet. I yank a final one to the side and frown.

“Has anyone seen the Lambrusco?” I yell.

Tomasso, one of the Terrace sous-chefs, sticks his head in the door. “What are you shouting about, Boss?”

“I can’t find the Lambrusco. We were supposed to get a whole crate.”

“We’re out. Our supplier’s whole Italy shipment got delayed. Something about a storm.”

“Fuck,” I mutter. “The whole second course was built around that Lambrusco.”

“We’ve got plenty of Moscato,” Tomasso suggests, and I shake my head.

“It’s not gonna work. Way too sweet.” I rake my fingers through my hair. Fuck, I need a haircut. “I’ll figure something out.”

Technically, tonight’s family dinner is being hosted by Nate and Cat. But we’re in Terrace’s private dining room, and I’m in charge of the food. That means I can’t just sit around and enjoy the night like a guest.

My phone buzzes, and I grin when I check my texts.

Brinley

Stop freaking out about whatever you’re freaking out about and get out here. The world’s not ending because you don’t have the right Parmesan.

Beau

I don’t have the right wine, actually.

Brinley

Oh, that’s definitely your fault. You should just go throw yourself in the lake.

I chuckle. She’s right. I know my friends would rather have me out with them then in the back of the storage closet, obsessing about Italian supply chains. I consider my options as I lug all the boxes back on their respective shelves.

“Tell service to just bring out the sparkling Shiraz,” I tell Tomasso. “It’ll have to be good enough.”

Shaking out my disappointment, I stride into the restaurant. It’s a Friday night, and all the tables are full to the brim. Patrons eat and talk and laugh, filling the air with cheerful noise. A deep sense of pride fills my chest. I love knowing I built the space that brings them together. Owning Velvet & Vice, the nightclub downstairs, can be a good time, but my heart is here in the restaurant.

I’m the last person to arrive in the private dining room. Maura sits at the table, under the custom painting I commissioned from her. She’s holding hands with James and chatting with Cat and Nate about her next gallery show. Ryan, Luke, and Pippa are digging into the prosciutto and pecorino from the charcuterie boards.

Across the room, my eyes immediately find Brinley, showing Eden something on her phone. She’s wearing a slouchy sweater that hangs off one shoulder, and fuck, I’m pathetic, because just that glimpse of shoulder is enough to make me crazy.

Like she can sense my presence, Brinley glances up and our eyes meet. We only get a second before we both have to look away so nobody notices the heat in our eyes.

Seeing Nate, James, and Luke in their tailored suits, I straighten my own button-up. I’m always going to be underdressed compared to them. At least I’m better dressed than Ryan, who’s wearing a hideous baby blue button-up with creepy little cherubs embroidered all over it.

“Felt like making a fashion statement tonight?” I ask, elbowing him.

Ryan groans. “No. I lost a bet.”

“Who would be cruel enough to punish you with that monstrosity?”

“The devil herself,” he groans.

Pippa wraps an arm around his waist. “Don’t you mean your angel?”