Just a Taste (6 page)

“Would you want to run it?”

She shook her head. “I told you. I'm not a cook. I do the business end: the office stuff, inventory, invoices, taxes. I have no desire to be on the truck every day. I've thought about hiring someone. My cousin Pete worked with my dad off and on. He knows the routine.”

Liam watched the way she spoke about her cousin. “But?”

“But he's not reliable. The off-and-on part came from his inability to show up on time. He became a bigger frustration for my dad than a help.” She toyed with the edges of the folder, curling them up and then releasing.

The waitress arrived with their plates. Carmen put the folder on the seat beside her. “Do you know anyone who might want to run the truck?”

Liam thought for a minute. No one came to mind. Of course, anyone who had a job might consider it, depending on the pay. “At the risk of sounding crude, is the truck profitable?”

“That's not crude—it's business. Yes, we operate in the black. We own the truck and the equipment. My dad took a regular paycheck and paid me for the office work. It's part of why I'm hesitant to let it sit for a year. My dad took his good reputation from the restaurant and it followed him on the food truck.” She shook her head as she dipped a forkful of lettuce into the salad dressing. “I thought he was nuts when he suggested buying the truck.”

“He got in right when it was becoming a popular trend, though. Smart man, your dad.”

She nodded and he thought he saw the hint of tears again. He gave her a minute to calm her emotions. Squirting ketchup all over his mound of fries, he focused on his choices. Would he want to run the truck? For all his experience in a kitchen, he knew nothing about food trucks. He bit into the cheeseburger and found it dry, overcooked. He chewed and swallowed anyway.

Carmen looked at him, her face tilted to the left. “Do you find yourself criticizing every chef when you go out to eat?”

It was like she had read his thoughts. “I try not to. I don't usually say anything out loud. Why?”

She lifted one shoulder. “You had this look on your face. I don't know. I remember seeing it on my dad's face when we would go out. Not always, but whenever the food wasn't up to his standards.”

He smiled, remembering Gus. “Yeah. I remember your dad's looks. He was a crotchety man when it came to food.”

This brought a laugh from her and he liked the sound. She needed to remember to laugh with memories of Gus. He'd been lucky because he'd been surrounded by his siblings after his dad's death. Whenever one of them felt down, someone else had a funny story.

As her laughter faded to a smile, she said, “I guess you would see him that way. He rarely showed me that side. But I saw it sometimes in the kitchen when he talked to the staff.”

Liam reached back in his mind for other stories about Gus to share with her, to help her feel better. For the next hour, they laughed together over tales from the Mexican restaurant where they had both done some growing up. Her salad plate was clean, his burger only half-eaten, but he wasn't hungry. He was enjoying himself too much.

With a glance at her watch, Carmen looked up at him with wide eyes. “Am I making you late for work? I wasn't paying attention to the time. I'm so sorry. I forget that other people actually have jobs and stuff to get to.”

“I'm fine. Speaking of jobs, what are you going to do?”

Her shoulders lifted with her inhale, like she needed additional oxygen in order to form an answer. “I guess it depends on the truck. I'll have to help whoever we hire. I'll continue the office work. If we can't find someone, I guess I'll look for another job. In all honesty, I haven't given it much thought.”

“I was just wondering. I'd hate to see you turn into the crazy cat lady of your neighborhood,” he joked.

She threw a balled-up napkin and hit him on the forehead. He tossed it back and it landed in the V of her shirt, nestled between her breasts. She smiled and shook her head.

“Need me to get that for you?” The words slipped out before he thought. He shouldn't be flirting with her. She was grieving. He didn't know if she had a boyfriend. But if she did, he surely wouldn't have left her alone this long, would he?

She pulled the napkin out and tucked it under her plate. She sighed and he couldn't help but notice the rise and fall of her chest. To cover his obnoxious thoughts, he reached into his pocket for his wallet and waved the waitress over.

As he handed his card to the waitress, he said to Carmen, “You should come to Porter's for dinner one night. You could see where I work.”

Damn, was he trying to set up a date with a girl who was now his business partner?

“I wouldn't want to bother you at work.”

And she shot him down. After signing the receipt for lunch, he said, “I'll think about people to hire, but it might be easier if I knew more about the business. Will you have some time to go over things, give me a crash course?”

“Sure. Whenever you want. I've updated the web site so customers know the truck will be off the road for a while, but we don't want to stay out too long. We'll lose some of the best spots going into winter. Although another option is to close for the winter. Some trucks do that. They run during nicer weather. The winter can be brutal. Profits are always down.”

He stood. “Let's think about it. If Gus ran it over the winter, he must've had a reason. We have your cousin as a backup, right? We'll work on it and figure it out.”

Liam walked her to her car and waited until she pulled away. She wasn't the only one who needed to make some decisions about life.

CHAPTER 4

T
hree days later, Liam walked out of Porter's after what had to have been his worst night as a chef ever. Jonathan had changed the specials without telling Liam. He hadn't even asked Liam for input this time. Then he managed to purchase the cheapest cut of beef possible, all in the name of saving on the bottom line.

The dining experience of customers for that evening had been worse than if they'd gone to a corner coffee shop. And he knew he would take the blame. No one ever said the owner was responsible if the cut of meat was tough or it was the wrong cut for a particular dish—no, the chef always took the blame. He couldn't even deny it. He should've fought harder to do something different, to make it work, but his heart wasn't in it.

Too many other things were pulling at him. He'd spent his free time looking over the web site for the food truck and some spreadsheets Carmen had emailed him. They'd spoken briefly a couple of times about the truck, and although she sounded better, they'd kept the conversation simple and business-oriented.

And now, the weight of another certified letter stared at him from the passenger seat in his car. He'd stopped by the post office to pick it up before work and had assumed it was paperwork from Gus's lawyer needing his signature. That had only been part of it. A letter from Gus was included. Liam hadn't opened it yet, knowing he needed to focus at work.

As he drove away from the heart of the city, the small white envelope taunted him. He drove to O'Leary's Pub, hoping one of his brothers would be there. He didn't want to be alone when he read this. After parking in the lot, he grabbed the envelope, tucked it in his pocket, and entered the bar.

The warm air wrapped around him as he was transported to the safety of his family. Whenever he felt overwhelmed by anything, he could step into this space, even more than in his childhood home, and feel calm.

It had been in this kitchen that he'd first experimented. It was here that he drank his first beer. Here that he mourned the passing of his father. Patrick O'Leary's presence filled the space even though it had been years since his death. Liam pushed forward toward the bar.

About an hour until closing and a crowd still filled the bar. Ryan had taken over the helm of the business and done right by their family. Before taking on O'Leary's, Ryan had already built his own bar in the suburbs. Liam marveled at how he'd managed. Wondered where the courage came from to strike out without fear of failing. Ryan had always been sure of himself.

Colin, not so much.

The two oldest O'Leary brothers had taught him plenty. Colin, as the oldest, should've taken over O'Leary's, but he tended to rush into things without thought. Ryan had been the steady one. Right now, Liam would appreciate advice from either of them.

He sat on a stool and waited. Jenna popped the tops on a couple of beers before she smiled at him in recognition.

“Hey, Liam. Haven't seen you around in a while.”

“Been busy. Are either of my brothers around?”

“Yeah, Colin just ran into the back for a minute. Want me to find him?”

“Nah, I'll wait.”

“Can I get you something?”

“A Guinness.”

She set a full glass in front of him. He hadn't had a Guinness in a long time either. The thick brew always reminded him of Dad. Jenna went to deliver drinks and Liam inhaled the rich scent of the stout before sipping.

Another drink and then he pulled the envelope from his pocket and flipped it over between his fingers. He heard Colin before he saw him; the guy was always whistling or singing if he wasn't talking. And he liked to talk. Liam had somehow skipped out on the talking gene most of his siblings had.

He smiled thinking that his younger sister Moira had gotten his share.

Colin grabbed a towel and began wiping down the bar without noticing him.

“Hey, you missed a spot,” Liam called.

Colin looked up and smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see you. Or Ryan. Whichever I could find first.”

“I guess you got lucky then, because we all know I'm the better bet.” Colin tossed the rag under the counter and leaned his elbows on the shiny mahogany. “What's up?”

Liam licked his lips and drank more beer before starting. “Remember the Mexican restaurant I worked at while in school?” He didn't wait for Colin to respond because the answer didn't mean much. “The owner, Gus, died. He sold the restaurant a few years ago and bought a food truck. I just found out that he left me half ownership in the truck.”

“Wow. Maybe Ryan would've been the better brother here.” Colin blew out a breath. “I want to say congratulations, but it doesn't seem right, you know? What are you going to do? Who has the other half?”

“His daughter, Carmen, is the other half. She ran the office of the business for her dad, but she doesn't want to run the truck. She's not a cook. We've talked about hiring someone, but . . .”

“Are you thinking about doing it? I thought you wanted a restaurant.” Colin poured himself a glass of water and walked around the bar to sit beside Liam.

“I do. I think. But Porter's doesn't feel like enough anymore. Not for a while now. Yet this isn't something I ever considered. At the same time, Gus was smart. We can't sell for at least a year, so we have to do something with it.” He held up the envelope. “And then I got this today.”

“What is it?”

“A letter from Gus, but I haven't opened it yet.”

Colin looked at him and waved his hands as if to ask what he was waiting for. Liam shrugged and slid a finger under the flap. With a deep breath, he pulled the letter out.

Liam stared at the letter and reread the words.

“Well?” Colin asked.

“He wants me to take care of Carmen.”

Colin chuckled. “I bet that'll be a hardship.”

Liam flicked his brother a dirty look. He refolded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. After a healthy drink from his glass he turned to Colin. “I think I need to take over the truck.”

“Because of a letter? That doesn't seem like a good idea. You should explore all your options.”

“This coming from the most impulsive member of our family.”

“You should learn from my fuckups.”

“The letter's part of it. He trusts me to take care of things. I feel like I owe him.” And he knew Gus's words to be true. Carmen was lost. He didn't know if he could help her, but he could certainly ease her worry by running the truck. “Taking over the truck will buy me time to figure out what I want. And if we sell in a year, I can use the profit for my own place.”

“As long as you know what you're getting into.” He shoved off his stool. “Let me know if there's anything I can help with.”

“You're the last person I'd come to for help in the kitchen. When I want someone to flirt with my customers, I'll call.”

Colin's hand smacked his chest. “You wound me. I'm off the market now. Elizabeth might kill me if I flirted with other women.”

“Nah, she knows it's in your DNA. You can't help yourself.” Liam finished his beer and gave his big brother a hug. “Thanks for the talk.”

“I don't feel like I helped much.”

“Being here helps.” Liam didn't know how to explain his need for a connection to their father. He assumed Colin would understand without the words. It was one of the reasons Colin continued to work at O'Leary's even though he had a bar of his own. They all came home.

On his way back to his car, Liam thought about Carmen again. Where would she go to feel the comfort of home? He pictured her in her house. She lived there, but it didn't strike him as the place she found peace. He drove home and then worked on drafting his resignation letter. Liam just hoped he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his career.

Carmen spent the morning scanning help wanted ads, not even sure what she was looking for. She had a degree in business management. She'd run her father's business for years, but had no other practical experience. She had no idea what she wanted. So instead, she focused her energy on the house. They hadn't painted the walls in years. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time any home improvements were done.

She wandered the aisles of the home improvement store for hours, gathering paint chips and samples, picking out possible light fixtures, and area rugs. She created a long list as she walked: one page for materials, including prices and model numbers, another page for things she'd have to pay someone else to do. With a new job to occupy herself, she went home, content to produce spreadsheets for her desired home improvement projects.

Eyeball-deep in Excel, the ringing of her phone surprised her. She answered absently. “Hello.”

“Carmen? It's Liam.”

The deep sound of his voice scattered her thoughts. “Hi.”

“Got a few minutes?”

She shoved her laptop away. “Sure.”

“I'm in.”

“What?”

“I'll run the truck. I'm turning in my resignation this afternoon. I have to give my boss a couple of weeks to find a new chef. It would be a bad move to leave him high and dry. Then I'll still need time to figure out everything about the truck, so I think we'd be back on the road within a month. Will that work?”

“Whoa. Wait.” She stood and paced, trying to absorb what he was saying. “What do you mean you're going to run the truck?”

“Just what I said.”

“But you're a chef.”

“So was your dad. And if I'm not mistaken, I'll be cooking on the truck.”

Her heart kicked. This hadn't been any of the scenarios she'd imagined after the reading of her dad's will. She'd never thought Liam would walk away from a restaurant to take on the truck. After their few interactions, she'd really been counting on him as a silent partner. “Why?”

“I'm ready for a change. If I'm running the truck, we'll be in good shape until we decide what to do. When the year's up, we can reevaluate.”

He sounded so sure of himself and his decision, as if this had always been his life plan. She couldn't remember a time when she was that confident about anything. “Are you really sure?” She felt the need to ask regardless of the way he sounded. She knew better than anyone how easy it was to project one image while feeling something different.

She'd done it for years with her dad. She'd done it so often sometimes she wasn't even aware she was doing it.

“I'm sure, Carmen. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No. I just don't want you to walk away from your life. We can figure something else out.” A bit of panic rose at the thought of him giving up his dreams. At least when she'd done it, it had been for family. She was nothing to him.

“The decision's made. I'll let you know when I have things settled at work.”

“Okay.” It was a lame response, but what else could she say?

“We'll talk soon.” He disconnected as her doorbell rang.

Carmen stood staring at her phone, unable to move. The shock of Liam's announcement settled deep in her. The doorbell sounded again and she shuffled to the living room to answer the door.

Rosa rushed past her without a greeting. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. It wasn't until Carmen closed the door that Rosa said, “What took so long? It's frickin' cold out there.”

Carmen noticed Rosa wasn't wearing a coat, which explained the complaint. “Uh, I was on the phone.”

“What, and you can't walk and talk at the same time?” She flopped on the couch. “You should just give me a key and then you wouldn't have to let me in.”

Rosa had been pushing for over a year to move into the house. She wanted desperately to get away from her family, but she didn't want the responsibility of having to pay rent. Carmen had used her father as an excuse to not have Rosa move in, but now, she'd been considering it. The house was too big for Carmen to live in by herself, but something held her back.

She wasn't sure she wanted to keep the house. She still hadn't figured out what she did want.