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Across the Miles (The Not So Bad Boys of Rock Book 1) by Rhonda James (33)

32

SEBASTIAN

Brooke left three days ago, and I couldn’t have been more thankful for the distraction of prepping for the tour. We spent four days straight in the studio, going over changes and fine tuning some of the vocals. Our latest album was set to launch in three days, with a party scheduled that same night. Unfortunately, Brooke would miss it. Things had been going well for her in London. She loved the area and said she would love to see the restaurant succeed. Listening to her go on and on about London made me a bit nervous, and I couldn’t help but ask myself if she was coming back home to me. Thankfully, her answer had been a resounding yes, but she still loved the city. I promised to take her there when our tour was over, even though I would be sick to death of traveling and staying in strange places. If it made her happy, I would suck it up and do it, just for her.

“What are you doing tonight? I’m going crazy with all of this crap going on in my head,” Dek muttered, joining me in the studio lounge as Travis and Chris worked with the sound engineers.

“Getting to you, is it?” I chuckled momentarily before reminding myself that I needed to be supportive.

“Come on, Sebastian. You of all people should understand what I’m going through. I have to get out of the house. I find myself just sitting there thinking about her. I’ve never been like this over a woman. Do you think it’s because she’s so far away? You know, maybe it adds to the desire.” His eyes searched mine, looking for affirmation, finding none.

“Sorry, dude, it sucks to have them so far away, and it does increase the desire, but the overwhelming need I felt for Brooke when she was far away never left when she came to live with me. I still need her, maybe even more.”

“So, basically I’m screwed?” His face scrunched up in agony. “Damn, I thought talking with you would help me, but you’ve just made it worse. This is why I’ve avoided serious relationships.” He threw his hands up in the air, clearly exasperated.

“Hold on. I’m here for you, man. I’ve been in your shoes, and I know how much it hurts. I know all about the ache in your chest, the images that flash through your mind when you try to sleep at night, the last kiss that lingers on your lips, making you crave another one. I know.” I gripped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, trying my best to reassure him. “When Brooke was in Michigan, I thought I would die living every day with all of that crap in my head. I asked myself many times if all of it was worth going through.” His face registered surprise at my admission. “In the end, even before she decided to come here, I knew the answer to that question was yes, she was always the one. All of those memories and images I carried around like a photo album in my mind, that at times felt too painful to endure, were, in fact, what carried me through.”

“So, you’re saying that everything going on in here”—he circled his head with his hand—“is going to get me through, even though it hurts like hell to think about it and not have her with me when the pictures finish flashing?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Hang in there. If it’s meant to be, then it will be. Although, I hope you took a few lessons from me and have been sending her little care packages regularly. Brooke and I did that, you know.” I smiled at the memory. I hadn’t given her anything in a long time. Maybe it was time for another surprise.

“I’ll be back in two days,” he said, jumping up and heading to find Pete, our agent.

“Where are you going?” I smiled, already knowing the answer.

“I’m not as creative or smooth as you, Mr. Hipster King. I figure the best surprise I can give Jade is me.” He shrugged, grinning from ear to ear.

“Go get your girl!” I called after him, laughing on the outside but suddenly missing mine even more.

* * *

BROOKE

I couldn’t get over being in London; it was amazing. The restaurant was located in Covent Garden, an upscale theater district lined with fine dining establishments and plenty of shopping. The largest wholesale farmer’s market that sold fresh fruit, vegetables, and gorgeous flowers, everything you need to take your restaurant to the next level, was just a short walk away. Every day, thousands of people flocked to the market, including every chef working in that area and surrounding areas. We stopped there each morning as Max gave me a walking tour of the city.

Meeting the staff at Lardon’s of London went better than expected. I had been prepared for them to feel threatened by my presence, knowing how the restaurant was struggling to find its place in this district, and not knowing how much they had been told of my visit. I was just there to observe and make recommendations. Max had asked me to oversee a night of service and then meet with him to discuss my thoughts. I had done as requested, noting right away that the kitchen staff lacked cohesiveness, which was something we had always worked to avoid back in Michigan. If your crew isn’t tight, then they aren’t working as a team. A big no-no in the culinary industry. The restaurant was closed the next day, so Max and I took them all on an outing to a challenge course, requiring them to work as a team in order to overcome some pretty intense obstacles. It took some encouragement and the participation of Max and myself as a show of solidarity to finally win them over. Crossing over that finish line was a cause for celebration for all of us.

Service the next night ran smoother, but there were still a few wrinkles that needed to be ironed out. I asked Max to join me during my next observation, hoping he would see what I had witnessed in the beginning. It had only taken thirty minutes of oversight to catch what I had suspected all along: there was one employee sabotaging the entire dinner service. He slacked off during prep, he mouthed off to most of his co-workers, he ate off plates he was supposed to be preparing, and his participation during clean up was lacking. Any one of these infractions would have been reason for probation or firing at my old restaurant. Donnie had a very low tolerance for people who weren’t team players. After only a few minutes of discussion, it was mutually decided that this individual had to be let go, which he didn’t take gently. He raised his voice and his fist, advancing on Max as he received the bad news. One of the managers witnessed the entire scene, and within minutes the police arrived to arrest him. It made for a very tense evening but proved to be the right move in the end as the next night of service was more streamlined and the cohesiveness I was looking for had been restored.

“You’re quite adept at managing these scenarios,” Max informed me as we sat in the back of a limousine on our way back to the hotel. “It’s almost as if you were made for this business.”

“Well, food is something I have always had a passion for. I guess it also comes from working in an establishment that, even though there were wrinkles from time to time, had worked out most of the issues and found a pattern that worked. I was very blessed to be brought alongside that type of leadership.”

“I’m not talking about just the food, Brooke. I’m referring to your ability to come in and analyze a situation and offer solutions, not just random opinions, but solutions that make sense and work. That doesn’t just come from working with someone who does that well; that is a skill you most likely already possessed and your mentor just helped you hone. I see a lot of myself in you.”

“Thank you,” I stammered. “That is an amazing compliment, Max, but I’m afraid I am worlds away from being as qualified as you,” I huffed.

“Ah, Brooke, my dear, I’m afraid that in many ways you’ve already surpassed me.” He popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and poured us each a small glass. “Here’s to the future of Lardon’s of London. May it be as well-received and profitable as its sister sites in the States.” We clinked glasses and drank in silence all the way back to the hotel.

* * *

Now that things were settled at the restaurant, I approached Max with the request that I fly out earlier in the hopes of catching the end of Sebastian’s launch party. I wanted him to know that I supported him and was very proud of all the hard work he and the band had poured into that project. Max had laughed and handed me a boarding pass for a flight that left in two hours.

“But how did you know?” I held it to my chest.

“Are you kidding me? I know you already, Brooke Caldwell. I know you love that man, and from what I have seen, he feels the same way. Which makes it even harder for me to ask you this.” He guided me over to a nearby sofa and motioned for me to sit down.

“Is something wrong?” I asked uncertainly.

“I’d like for you to run the restaurant in London.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “Please, allow me to finish. It would only be temporary and I would pay all of your expenses while you were here. Maybe Sebastian could even join you. I’m getting older. All of the traveling I do has been wearing on Laura. You are younger and not married. My thinking is that your lifestyle is more flexible than mine. I realize you’ve just relocated to California to be closer to Sebastian, and I know that it would be hard to leave him again. Believe me, I wouldn’t be asking you this unless it was incredibly important. I’m not sure this restaurant will remain open unless I make this change. You’re my last hope.”

All of the reasons to say yes piled up on my shoulders. This was what I had been striving for since I began cooking in my parents’ kitchen. It’s what Devon and I talked about while attending culinary school together, and what I had dreamed of during the years after his untimely death. I had worked my ass off for an opportunity like this, and I didn’t want to watch it slip away because I was afraid our relationship wouldn’t survive the separation. We had survived six months before; surely, we could manage again. He would understand and support me. I knew he would.

“Okay, it’s a deal. When do I start?” I asked, mustering all the confidence I could given the fact that a large part of me wanted to cry at the thought of leaving.

“Now works for me.” Max beamed. I nodded, offering my best attempt at a smile, which was extremely hard to do when fighting off a bout of tears.

I packed quickly and made my way through the airport. The flight back was long, and I didn’t have time to change before heading over to the party. It took some convincing on my part, but the guard at the door finally granted me access, but only after Natalie spotted me and came over to rescue me. I told her I wanted to surprise Sebastian, so she made herself scarce after pointing him out amongst the crowded room. I really hadn’t needed her direction; the magnetic pull between us guided me to him without my feet ever touching the ground. How in the world was I going to break the news to him without breaking his heart? Without it breaking mine?

* * *

SEBASTIAN

The launch party was in full swing, the room filled to capacity. We posed for countless photos and sat for endless interviews, discussing our music and the upcoming tour. By the time I had answered the same question no less than twenty times, I was itching to get out of there. Brooke’s flight was scheduled to get in early tomorrow morning, which meant that in less than eight hours I would have her back in my arms, and all I wanted to do was go home and wait for the limo to drop her off. She said that when Max traveled, he went all out, flying only first class and using limos for transportation. Her time there had been successful and enlightening. Spending that kind of time with her employer had given her great insight on his expectations for the restaurants and what had motivated him to launch them in the first place. She felt that under his guidance she could maximize her knowledge and marketability. I did my best to love and support her, encouraging her to do whatever it took to achieve her dream, but I also fought like hell to keep the jealousy at bay. Now that she was finally with me, I didn’t want to share her. Each day was a struggle not to allow my fears to get the better of me and treat her like a possession, wanting to keep her for myself.

I stood there, doing my best to listen as a well-known record producer spouted off about his latest discovery. He had been going on, holding Chris and me hostage, for the last twenty minutes, and it took everything I had not to ditch Chris and make a mad dash for the exit. Instead, I nodded my head, which only encouraged him to continue, barely stopping to take a breath as he rambled on. I sensed her before I felt her, the hairs on my neck and arms springing to attention as she drew closer. Small arms slipped around my waist before her full lips pressed against the center of my back.

“You don’t know how happy I am to have you back home.” I covered her hands with my own, not turning to face her as she nuzzled me. “How did you get back so soon?”

“I took an earlier flight,” she mumbled into the leather of my jacket. I politely excused myself as both men watched with growing interest. Chris knew the story, but this fool probably thought she was just another random chick. I didn’t bother correcting him. His opinion didn’t matter anyhow.

We found a quiet corner, away from everyone else, and busied ourselves reacquainting our lips. Brooke’s lips were one thing that I wouldn’t want to go without. Her kisses made me feel as if I could conquer the world. Each press of that soft flesh told me that she believed in me, that she was there for me, that she wanted me, and best of all, that she loved me. Her hugs ran a very close second, but it was her kisses that literally stole my breath.

“Sebastian, take me home,” she pleaded, voice tainted with desire and a touch of sadness. Without another word, I took her hand and made my way through the throng of people, heading out the door to my waiting car, driving to the place I had longed to be all evening.

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