Blurb:
Nick DiGiaccomo waits tables at Fortissimo, an exclusive restaurant in Oilton, Alberta. He loathes drama, particularly the kind that makes its appearance on Valentine’s Day.
This Valentine’s Day is especially bitter. Eight months ago Nick’s heart was broken when his lover walked away without a word over a misunderstanding. Too proud to call, Nick’s heard nothing from him since. But on this, the most romantic day of the year, he keeps his feelings well hidden and his professional smile firmly in place.
That is, until he sees his ex-lover, Mark Mishimoto, at a table for two in his section—and his Valentine’s Day goes from bad to downright horrible.
To make matters worse, a winter storm descends, hours earlier than forecast. When the restaurant closes, Nick finds himself stuck downtown in the middle of a blizzard with no way to get home and nowhere to go. Mark lives conveniently close by, and he’s offering up his couch. Nick could use a place to lay his head—but is it worth risking his heart?
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Nick refilled pepper and flake salt grinders, keeping an eye on his tables. He needed to keep moving; he was sleep deprived from waiting tables full-time and taking courses at the university. He’d already worked a busy day shift with only a quick break for dinner.
Brooke poked her head into the wait station. “It looks like the storm is coming faster than expected.” The forecast had predicted a heavy snowfall, but not until after midnight. “It’s already falling pretty hard. We just had a cancellation. Sorry, Nick. It was one of yours.”
“No worries.” Nick delivered appetizers to table one and coffee and dessert to table four, where Marcel was uncorking a pricey bottle of ice wine. He cleared soup bowls from table three and returned to the wait station.
Nick’s heart sped up. Had he missed the arrival of Mark’s date? No. The beautiful man still sat alone. Nick glided over and topped up his water glass.
“Another drink?”
“Can I get a mineral water?”
“Certainly. Still or sparkling?”
“Sparkling, please. I’m just going to visit the phone room for a moment.”
Nick nodded as Mark headed toward the room where guests could make calls. Phones were prohibited in the dining area. Back at the wait station, he grabbed a tray and a mineral water from the cooler, along with a glass and lace doily to go under it, heart-shaped just for today.
“What’s going on with table seven?” said Mattias. “Isn’t that Mark Mishimoto from Yoshihiro?”
“Yeah. He’s here on a date.”
“I don’t see anyone else sitting there.”
“Yet.” No one made a reservation for one for Valentine’s Day, even if Chef Bruno would have allowed a solo booking on a holiday. And no one would stand up Mark Mishimoto.
When Nick returned, Mark was studying the room—the string quartet in the corner, the bud vases with roses on every table, the floating candles in crystal globes—small, winking lights pushing back shadows in the romantic chiaroscuro lighting of the dining room. His lips were tight.
Well, well. Where was his date?
Water splished and glugged into the glass, and Nick winced. Sloppy. Flushed, he capped the bottle of mineral water. “May I bring you anything else? An appetizer?”
“No, thank you. I’ll order now.”
Nick wiped the surprise from his face a second too late. “Of course.”
“I’ll have the special,” said Mark. “And a Barolo.” He pointed to a hundred-dollar bottle on the wine list.
“Certainly.” Nick hesitated, unsure whether he should take away the other place setting.
Mark read his mind. “No need to remove anything.” He smiled at Nick, and his gaze drifted down Nick’s torso, to the point where the long apron snugged his hips, where it dwelled a moment before lifting to scrutinize Nick’s face.
Nick told himself to move, and his body finally responded, his eyes last of all so that he was staring at Mark’s lips as he reached for the menu. “I’ll be right back.” He met Mark’s gaze for a second that stretched into several, then spun and headed off to deliver the order.
Ava Hayden lives and writes in western Canada but grew up in the southern United States. She comes from a family of storytellers and began creating her own at an early age. She’s still telling stories, but now she writes them down.
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Second-chance theme! Thinking of adding this to my weekend read.
Thank you for the post. 🙂
Sounds really interesting and I want to see how things go for Nick.