Just a Taste

Chapter 2-3

Carmen studied Liam’s face. Always so serious. He had a permanent pinched line that ran between his eyebrows. Even when he smiled, it was just a lift of the corners of his mouth. She wondered if he ever laughed.

She couldn’t remember ever hearing him laugh. The thing she remembered most about Liam was how quiet he was. He watched everything but said little.

Except that night in the kitchen of her dad’s restaurant that had come like a flash to her brain. She hadn’t thought about those days—or Liam—in a long time. He’d been different that night. In truth, she’d thought he was flirting with her. Not that she’d had much experience with guys flirting.

The waitress returned with their drinks and placed them on small napkins before asking if they needed anything else. The odd yellow color of her drink made Carmen question if she’d ordered correctly. She turned the glass before picking it up.

Liam raised his glass. “What should we drink to?”

“To old friends.” She clinked her glass against his. Her lips touched the salted rim before the cold citrusy taste of the margarita slid onto her tongue. Yeah, she’d ordered right. This was a drink she could get drunk on. Her gaze slid to Liam. He’d let her get drunk and take care of her, take her home.

That was more than she could say with Rosa. Rosa drank in bars to find men. If she found one, Carmen was on her own. But not tonight.

“Something wrong with your drink?”

“Nope. I was remembering how much I really like margaritas.” She sipped again. “The first time I got drunk was on margaritas. I was seventeen and the busboys snuck a pitcher without my dad knowing. By the time cleanup was done for the night, I couldn’t stand straight.”

Liam smiled, as much as he seemed to do anyway. Lines bracketing his mouth were the only sign that it was a genuine smile. Now she really wanted to hear him laugh.

“Where was I when this happened?”

She shrugged. “It must’ve been your night off.”

“Did your dad find out?”

“Of course he did. He had to practically carry me to the car. He asked who gave me the alcohol, but I wouldn’t tell.” She sipped again. She’d refused to tell because she’d liked the one boy, whose name escaped her now. He’d shown her attention and back then, she’d been desperate for attention from boys. “It was one of the few times I remember Dad being furious.”

“I think I would’ve paid to see Gus yell at perfect little Carmen.”

“He yelled a lot.” She laughed.

“Not at you. You could do nothing wrong in his eyes. The rest of us, however, got used to the yelling. The only other choice was to quit. Gus was good practice for being a chef. We all like to yell.”

“No way. Are you telling me that behind this quiet exterior lurks Chicago’s very own Gordon Ramsay?”

“I’m not that bad, but most chefs are particular in how they want things run.”

“Now I’m tempted to spy on you at work. I can’t imagine you even raising your voice a little. You’re too quiet.”

“Yelling isn’t always about an increase in volume.” He was so calm and cool.

Carmen reached out and stroked his jaw. The red stubble tickled her palm. “What’s this about?” He’d always been clean-cut, but he had a scruffy beard going on. It was trim enough to reflect that it hadn’t been laziness, but intentional.

“I sometimes let it grow. It makes me look more my age.” He drank from his glass. “This time, it also has the added benefit of pissing off my boss.”

Carmen liked the feel of his face but forced her hand away. So Liam wasn’t as calm and cool as he appeared. People did irritate him. He just wasn’t loud about it. “I like it.”

“It makes it harder to call me…what was it you and your cousin nicknamed me? White Bread?”

She hung her head in shame. Of course he would remember. Heat flamed in her cheeks. But the embarrassment didn’t stop her from mumbling, “Wonder Bread.”

“Hah! That’s right. Wonder Bread.”

It was almost a laugh. “We were snotty teenagers and we shouldn’t have called you that.”

“It didn’t bother me. I’m definitely white.”

She didn’t understand. If he had ever referred to her or anyone in her family as a wetback or any other slur she’d heard over her lifetime, she’d be pissed. Definitely hurt. “It didn’t make it right.”

He shrugged it off. She finished the drink, and Liam already had his hand in the air to order another.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m not trying to, but if it happens, so be it. Everyone needs to cut loose on occasion.” His glass was still near full. “I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

She sighed. Safe had been her whole life. Maybe she was tired of being safe. The waitress brought her second drink, and Carmen wondered what she and Liam would talk about. The alcohol was loosening her up, but she found that he was okay with sitting in silence.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t. “Are you naturally antisocial or what?”

Somewhere in her brain, she knew the question probably came out sounding rude, but she didn’t have the skills to fix it at this particular moment.

“No. At least I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“When you worked at the restaurant, it felt like you were always on your own. I’d talk with the other staff, both front of house and back, but you kept your distance.” She wanted to ask why he’d avoided her, never asked her out like the other guys had. She’d never taken any of them seriously, so she’d always turned them down, but she probably would’ve said yes to him.

He shrugged. “I didn’t feel welcome most of the time.”

Liam had felt like an outsider? The thought had never occurred to her. “That’s too bad. I would’ve welcomed you.”

He smiled again, the lines in his cheeks deepening. “You were usually looking for a way to escape. Why did you hate working there so much?”

Blowing out a breath, she raised her drink to her lips. How could she explain her need to avoid the temptation of food? By the age of seventeen, she’d already been teased so much about her weight, that all she wanted was to be thin. Being in the restaurant, around her favorite foods, made it near impossible.

She looked into Liam’s cool blue assessing eyes. And lied. “I didn’t hate the whole restaurant. Just the kitchen stuff. I don’t like to cook. It’s not my thing.”

“Maybe I should give you lessons.”

She thought of his strong, capable hands, the roped muscles in his forearms, and suppressed a shiver. What is wrong with me?

“What is your thing?”

Hmm…the question was innocent enough, but she’d spent so much time with Rosa and the alcohol filtering into her brain made her thoughts not so innocent. She was beginning to think he might be her thing. “Business. That’s what I majored in for college. I’ve been taking care of the office stuff for my dad since I’ve been home.”

He pressed his lips together like he had to consider her answer. She drank some more. The second margarita went down even smoother than the first and she was reminded why she’d gotten drunk so easily. Liam’s glass was empty.

“Do you want another, or do you have to go?” she asked.

“I’ll get you another. I’ll stick with water. I’m driving.”

See, she knew he was one of those super-responsible guys. That’s what her dad always said. Liam is a good boy. Find a man like him, Carmen, and you’ll be fine. “My dad really loved you.”

Liam froze, his arm in the air again to get the waitress’s attention. When the waitress came over he ordered for them. Then he turned in his seat to fully face her. “I loved Gus, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t around more.”

“Shoot. I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I was thinking about him and you and stuff he always said.”

“I know, but I do feel bad. We talked on the phone sometimes, but I should’ve made time to visit.”

She reached out and rubbed his forearm. Her dark skin contrasted sharply with his pale complexion. “He understood. He liked that you were going after your dreams and finding success. You were like a son to him.”

The alcohol had her babbling and she hadn’t even started on her third one yet. She didn’t want to stop, though. Allowing the alcohol to relax her was freeing. She didn’t have to put on a brave face for anyone. She didn’t have to pretend to know what she was doing or that she had her s**t together.

Right here, in this moment, she could just be a halfway drunk girl hanging out with an old friend. A cute old friend, which made the evening better.