Chapter Seven
The last thing Wyatt had been expecting to find in the mystery parcel he’d been sent by courier this morning was a new stand mixer and a really good bottle of wine.
Even more surprising was the note from Kai, who Wyatt was still mulling over his mixed feelings about. On the one hand, Kai had been in the wrong.
On the other hand, Wyatt suspected he’d overreacted. He’d been made to feel stupid, and he’d let his anger at that—at himself—spill over into his reaction to Kai.
The guy had just been doing what he’d been told to keep his job. It would have been nice to know ahead of time, but… it was Wyatt’s job, too, and he shouldn’t have been so goddamn flustered over it.
It was the eyes, he’d decided. Kai’s eyes made him feel like his insides were being looked at, like Kai could see everything that made him up. All his hopes, dreams, and insecurities.
Kai made him feel vulnerable, because he was everything Wyatt wasn’t. Smart, educated, well-travelled, sharp and clever and just… better. Better at what he did than Wyatt could ever hope to be, even with all his years of practice.
Kai made him uncomfortable because he was a better chef. Wyatt was jealous of that, and he could admit that to himself if not to anyone else.
Which meant he’d overreacted, and he probably needed to apologize just as much as Kai did. That didn’t stop him being shocked that Kai had apologized, and so quickly. Wyatt had taken him to be the kind of person who was prone to sulking.
The contents of the note were the most surprising thing of all.
If you’d like to let me apologize properly, bring the wine to dinner. If not, feel free to drink it alone.
Wyatt smiled wryly. Kai probably hadn’t even realized that was insulting—Wyatt might have had someone to drink it with, and it was rude to assume he didn’t, or couldn’t find someone. But all the same, he was clearly trying.
And it was clever.
And above all else, he’d been listening when Wyatt had said his stand mixer was broken while they were filming the first episode. Not only that, but he’d remembered, and he’d taken it upon himself to fix it.
It was a thoughtful apology. Wyatt hadn’t been expecting that.
He’d already been thinking that they needed to make up, or else the show would go to shit with constant bickering and cold shoulders all round. No one wanted to watch two people who clearly didn’t want to be in the same room together cook.
They wanted chemistry. Donna had gotten that right, and…
It wouldn’t have been impossible to have that with Kai, if he could remove the stick from his ass for five minutes. His idea of an apology said that somewhere under those piercing eyes and razor-sharp cheekbones, there was a thoughtful man.
The kind of man whose loyalty must have been amazing to have, even.
Not that Wyatt needed loyalty. They just needed to get along.
If Kai was extending an olive branch, he couldn’t afford to refuse it. Both of their futures were on the line.
He typed the number Kai had given him at the bottom of the note into his phone, adding him as a contact and then opening a new text.
Thank you for the mixer, he began, his upbringing preventing him from being anything but polite. I’d like to come to dinner.
Wyatt passed the time it took Kai to respond opening up the box the stand mixer had come in, feeling like a little boy at Christmas.
Kai really could read him, somehow, despite not knowing him well.
Great. Seven work for you? Any food allergies/preferences I should know about?
Wyatt smiled, the faintest spark of excitement flaring up in his stomach. Or maybe that was nerves?
Either way, it made his fingers fly over the keyboard.
Seven’s perfect. I’m not allergic, but I hate fish. All seafood, really. It's gross.
People laughed at him for that, sometimes, but Kai wasn't in a position to if he was trying to apologize. Besides, there was no point in risking insulting him by picking awkwardly at something he really didn't want to eat.
I can't believe you'd say that to a man from a small fishing village in Maine. But I think I can work something out all the same.
Wyatt actually chuckled at that. He could imagine Kai’s long-suffering expression, but also the hint of amusement playing around his features as he said it.
He wasn't sure exactly why he was imagining that. Maybe because deep down, he really wanted them to be friends? Wyatt liked to make friends, especially with people he worked with.
That was the thing that annoyed him the most about all this. He could have been friends with Kai under other circumstances. There was a wicked sense of humor just under the surface, and he was obviously a thoughtful kind of guy when he wanted to be.
They’d just gotten off on the wrong foot and then kept going, instead of pausing to correct the steps.
Maybe this was a chance to do that.
Wyatt paused, realizing he had an apology to make, as well. Or… maybe not an apology, but a clarification, at least.
Hey, I just wanted to reassure you, I guess, that I wasn’t being homophobic yesterday. It’s fine that you’re gay. I’m bi, just not entirely out. But you didn’t know that so it might’ve come across that way.
It was a little wordy, but Wyatt had been worried about it on and off all of last night. Kai might have managed to annoy him, but that wasn’t a good reason to make him feel unsafe, and Wyatt knew he might have done that.
Being mad at him was one thing, but making him think Wyatt might have been less than a hundred percent comfortable with his sexuality was another. Wyatt deserved basic respect, but so did Kai. He hadn’t meant to come across like he did, but he knew he needed to explain himself.
That’s a relief, came Kai’s response, and Wyatt could tell that it really was.
They’d both behaved badly yesterday. This was a chance to start over and put things right, as long as they were both willing to be civil this time around.
Wyatt was willing to be civil—actually, genuinely civil—as long as Kai was. It’d be better for both of them, and better for the show. Besides, Kai was interesting.
The thought of getting to know Kai outside of work was actually kind of exciting. If they weren’t going to be at each other’s throats, he’d probably be great company.
See you at seven, then, he texted back.
Now all he needed to do was figure out what to wear.