Of Love and Corn Dogs (4 page)

Darwin shot his gaze to Ricky's face.

“I figured you liked him. He was pretty easy on the eyes, so it shows you have good taste.”

“You're right. I did like looking at him, but even if he had been gay, I doubt it would have moved beyond that. I never really gave it too much thought, but Roy had been a guilty pleasure. Stealing glances while he wasn't looking. It hurt a little when you told me he'd moved, but if I'm honest, I don't think I've given him more than a passing thought until now.”

Ricky looked over Darwin's shoulder. “And there she is. I suppose I ought to go face the music. I know the night didn't go like you wanted, and I'm very sorry about that, but what you did? I can't thank you enough for it.”

Ricky held out his hand and Darwin reached for it. A warm hand and a firm grip. A lump formed in Darwin's throat. Ricky didn't deserve to lose his job. Darwin wanted to come back to Asiago and get to know him better. He needed…more.

“If I get fired, you need to know how much of a pleasure it was serving you.”

When Ricky turned away, Darwin fought the temptation to call after him. The expression on Louisa's face as Ricky talked with her spoke volumes. Ricky wasn't meant for a place like this. He didn't deserve to become like Roy.

Louisa's gaze narrowed, and she clutched Ricky's arm and dragged him toward the office. Darwin turned away and took a deep breath. He pulled out his phone and dialed Henley.

“Are you ready, Dare?” his friend asked, the volume on the stereo lowering as he spoke.

“She's going to fire him,” Darwin replied. “We had an accident, and it's going to cost Ricky his job.”

“She can't do that,” Henley protested.

“She's been looking for an excuse,” Darwin explained. “I think this qualifies, especially since he's on probation.”

“So what are you going to do? I'd march in there and set her straight.”

It wasn't as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind. “Ricky wouldn't appreciate it. He's very independent and more than a little stubborn, I think.”

“Leave it to you to pick the difficult ones. You have to do something. You can't just let him lose his job.”

Darwin stepped closer to the hostess stand as a man entered the washroom. “I don't see where I have a choice. He asked me not to interfere.”

“I don't like this,” Henley snapped. “From what you say, he's a decent guy. Why is she being so hard-assed about it?”

“The
why
doesn't matter. The
what am I going to do
does.” Darwin seldom lost control, but right then the thought that Ricky would lose his job, and all because of something Darwin had done, made him anxious.

“You could always buy the restaurant,” Henley said, then chuckled.

“This isn't funny,” Darwin growled.

“I know. I'm sorry. Look, if he doesn't want you to do anything, then I don't think you should. He's an adult, and he's made a decision. You can't storm the castle and demand the wicked queen release the fair maiden.”

Why did Henley have to make sense now of all times? He'd always been the impetuous one, encouraging Darwin to take chances.

“You're right,” Darwin said through gritted teeth.

“You like him, don't you?” Henley asked tentatively.

“Well, yes, but—”

“I mean you
like
him.”

Though he hated the amusement in Henley's tone, Darwin couldn't deny what he said was true. He
did
like Ricky. In their one interaction, he'd done more to relax Darwin than anyone had in a long time.

“I barely know him,” Darwin replied, the words acrid on his tongue. He knew enough to admit Ricky made him laugh, set his stomach fluttering when he smiled. But admitting to feelings had Darwin stuck between two worlds. His love for Dean and his desire for the blond waiter.

“You hardly knew me when we kissed,” Henley reminded him.

A quiet night, parents out for the evening, and the servants tucked in for the night. Two hormone-addled teens wondering what it would be like to have their first kiss. Darwin remembered the scene vividly. Even though he and Henley had known right away they were definitely not made for one another, it started them on the path to accepting who they were and, ultimately, had brought Darwin and Dean together for four years.

“It's not like that,” Darwin protested, but the words didn't sound sincere, even to his own ears.

“But it could be, right? You want it to be?” Henley asked softly.

Darwin hated how perceptive Henley could be. As long as they'd known each other, it still surprised him when the wisecracking Henley turned serious. “I can fire you, you know,” he grumbled.

“You can. You probably should. Hell, I'd fire me if I had the chance. Doesn't make it any less true. Since Dean died, you've thrown yourself into work. You start early in the morning and work until late at night. You don't make time for anything or anyone. One meal with Ricky and you're cancelling appointments to play mini-putts and eat food you've never tried before. I admit it's not the stuff of a life-long commitment, but it's a start.”

The office door opened and Ricky stepped out, his mouth drawn into a grim line and his eyes red. Darwin glowered as Louisa called another server over, then pointed to the area in the rear of the restaurant. The waiter led Ricky to the back where they disappeared behind a dark wooden door.

“She fired him,” he whispered to Henley.

“Then what will you do?” Henley prompted. “Are you going to let her fire him and watch as he walks away, or are you going to stand up for him?”

Anger surged through Darwin at Henley's questions. If a chance existed that there could be something between him and Ricky, he wanted to explore it. To do that, he couldn't let the man just leave, and he wouldn't let Louisa destroy his confidence over something that had been Darwin's fault. “I'm not going to be long, but why don't you go ahead and go. I'll wait for Ricky and take him home.”

“Are you sure he won't go out through another door? Maybe an employee entrance?”

Darwin hadn't considered that. “Hang on,” he told Henley, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Excuse me,” he said to the hostess.

“Yes, Mr. Kincade?”

“Is there another door that employees exit from?”

“Yes, sir. We have a separate entrance for workers here.”

“I'd like to speak to Ricky before he leaves.”

The hostess glanced toward Louisa's office. “He has to come back up here,” she told him. “Louisa will collect his ID badge, keys, and any property belonging to the restaurant.”

“Thank you,” he said. He stepped away from the desk, and returned to his call. “I'll be waiting for him,” he told his friend.

“I can drive you both,” Henley said.

What would Ricky say if he saw the limo and Henley? Darwin really didn't want to find out. He liked being just Darwin for a change, not the president of Kincade International, not one of the hundred wealthiest men in America under thirty-five. Just Darwin.

“It's fine. Go on home. If something comes up, I'll call you.”

“Okay, if you're sure.”

“I am. I'll see you in the morning.”

He hung up and strode toward Louisa's office. He didn't bother to knock, choosing instead to make an entrance she wasn't likely to forget.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

She glanced up from the papers she had been going through, pushed out of the chair, and moved toward him. “Mr. Kincade, I'm sorry about what happened. We'll pay to have the suit cleaned, of course.”

She reached out and put her hand on his arm, and Darwin glared at it. She thought the gesture gave her the upper hand. Not this time, though. Not by a long shot.

 

Ricky pulled his clothes from the locker and began stripping off his uniform. With each piece he took off, he imagined a weight being lifted. While he'd enjoyed the money he'd made, he had to admit the job wasn't really something he could see himself doing for a career. He had dreams, and he would bust his ass to see them realized.

“I'm sorry about this, Rick,” Carter murmured.

Ricky turned to his…former coworker and grinned. “It's fine. She's been aching to fire me since not long after I started.”

“At least you landed on your feet,” Carter replied, a wide grin showing off his perfectly white teeth.

“What do you mean?” Ricky asked, sliding into his jeans.

“Mr. Kincade. He seems to like you.”

“He's a nice guy.”

“Hell yeah,” Carter said, waggling his brows. “He's got a lot of nice things about him.”

Before Ricky could ask what he meant, the door flew open and Sandra, the hostess, called out, “Carter, hurry. Mr. Kincade is in the office with Louisa, and we can hear them shouting from the dining room.”

Ricky grabbed his uniform and his sneakers before he rushed from the locker room, Carter hot on his heels. He didn't want Darwin to get himself in trouble. It wasn't worth it. Not for him, and certainly not to go up against Louisa. He heard the patrons muttering about the shouting and quickened his pace. He'd almost reached the door when he heard Darwin's voice, breaking with anger.

“I don't give a
damn
,” he shouted.

“Be reasonable,” Louisa pleaded. “He wasn't working out.”

He joined Carter and Sandra at the door, each of them straining not to miss a word Darwin and Louisa were saying. He leaned forward, then noticed he'd never finished dressing. He stepped behind his now former coworkers, and changed his shoes, while still listening to the conversation going on.

“Because you rode him. Nothing he did was good enough. You wanted to make him like Roy. Well, guess what? He's
not
Roy. In fact, he's a damn sight better than Roy ever was. He's pleasant and charming. He's got personality, which this place is sorely lacking.”

It got quiet in the office for a few moments, and Ricky feared Darwin had pushed Louisa too far.

“This isn't about Roy. It's not even about Ricky. I run this restaurant. You better than anyone should know what that means,” she yelled. “I don't own it. I'm responsible to the Berkhardts, so if you've got a better solution, please enlighten me. You can ask any of the staff. I expect perfection from each of them, because if they fail, I fail. And if that happens, I'm out the door, just as they would be.”

“It was an
accident
,” Darwin stressed.

“You think I don't know that?” Louisa shouted again. “He's a good kid. I like him a lot. But this isn't the place for someone like him. His third night on the job, he served Gregory Berkhardt and a friend of his from college. He always asks for the newest person, because he claims they're his barometer for how we're doing.”

Ricky thought back and remembered the two men. They'd been drinking heavily and got upset when he suggested they might want to slow down and have an appetizer. The tall, dark man with the deep bloodshot eyes gave him a cold glare and asked if Ricky knew who he was. He hadn't, which increased the man's agitation even more.

“He told me to fire Ricky that night. He'd done nothing wrong, but no one refuses the Berkhardts. He and his friend had come in drunk, and when the bartender had cut them off for more alcohol, he told me to get them a table in the new guy's—Ricky's—station. I don't know if they thought they could bully him into getting them something, but he did exactly what he was supposed to do. I couldn't fire him for following the rules. Mr. Berkhardt told me I had to get it done.” Ricky heard her sigh, which tore at his heart. He wished she had talked to him, because he would have quit before she risked her job for him.

Ricky swallowed hard. He glanced at Carter and Sandra, who still stood beside him as they listened intently at the door.

“I couldn't fire him,” Louisa said again, her voice much softer this time. “I suggested this might not be the place for him, but he seemed very adamant that he could do this job. And he's good. The customers who've had him adore him. If I had to fire him, they'd have been upset. We might have lost their business, which would have pissed off Berkhardt even more.

“I…I wanted Ricky to quit. I didn't have the heart to take the job away from him, and if I told the people who requested him that he left, then the restaurant saved face. I thought, if he quit, he could think of me as a bitch, but he'd go with his head held high. But tonight I had to do what I'd been told. I hate it. He should have just left when he had the chance.”

Carter whispered to Sandra, asking what they should do, but Ricky ignored them. He hadn't known any of the things Louisa had said, and regret caused his stomach to churn. He'd thought she hated him. Before Darwin could say anything, Ricky knocked at the door then pushed it open, Carter and Sandra scampering back to their stations. Darwin's face was an unhealthy shade of red, while Louisa's skin, which usually had a healthy glow, had turned pale.

“I have my locker cleaned out,” Ricky said. “I know you have to fill out a lot of paperwork if you fire me, but what if I quit?”

Deep brown eyes peered at him. “You were listening,” Louisa said, but she sounded sad instead of angry.

“Well, you were kind of loud,” Ricky replied, trying to smile.

“I'm sorry,” she said, the sincerity in her expression very telling. “I wish we could have made it work. I tried, I swear. But Berkhardt wanted you gone, and even though I protested the decision, he overruled me. I asked for time. I wanted to train you and show him that you were good at your job. It didn't matter. He didn't listen. So I'd hoped he'd been too drunk to remember his dictate. It didn't happen that way.”

Darwin put a hand on Ricky's shoulder. “I'm sorry. I know you didn't want me to interfere, but I couldn't let it sit like this.”