Kia was sending the messagethat won’t happen again. That was as it should be, even if it didn’t feel right.
“You forgot the sage?” Opal asked as Sullivan dug through drifts of rosemary and oregano on the Mirepoix counter.
Sullivan knew she was off her game. The herbs should be chopped by now. They should never be in this messy pile.
“I woke up late.”
More like she hadn’t slept all night.
“Do tell.” Opal had been waiting for an opening.
“I had insomnia.”
“Thinking about Kia?” Opal asked, checking to make sure Blake was out of the kitchen (probably texting his dog). “I’ve seen you kiss randos at the bar, and it wasn’t like that.”
“She’s not a rando.”
“I know,” Opal said, as though she’d just caught Sullivan in a trap. “She’s your wife.”
“Nothing happened… besides what happened at the Tennis Skort.”
“Did you want it to?” Opal started stemming rosemary, keeping her eyes on Sullivan.
“Shouldn’t you be taking the bread out?”
Opal sniffed the air.
“No, and I will let it burn if it means you spill the tea. Talk to me about Kia, because I know she’s the reason you had insomnia.”
Sullivan leaned her butt against the counter in violation of health code. She sighed.
“I cannot—not, not, not—think about Kia that way.”
“Why not?”
“She’s going to tear down the Bois, and the first tree that goes down is going to make me hate her. I can’t pretend that’s not coming and kiss her now.”
“What if you didn’t hate her?”
“I will because she could stop.” That was the knife’s edge of truth behind everything. “She could find another property.”
“But Mega Eats would buy the land.”
“It’s like she has to destroy everything I love to protect me, and doing that is going to get her everything she wants. It’s like some fucking Greek tragedy where every option is bad.”
“Oh, hon.” Opal put her arms around Sullivan, carefully holding her gloved hands away from Sullivan’s back. “It’s going to be okay.”
“In a cosmic, cycle-of-life way. Not in a real-life way.”
Blake came through the back door.
“I wasn’t texting. I made a real call just like you guys did in the fifties.”
“He thinks we were alive in the fifties.” Opal shook her head. “Chef, go home and get some sage. I’ll school this young’un.”
chapter 19
Kia spent themorning after kissing Sullivan trying to focus on her menu and supply order and failing to pay attention to anything except her memories of Sullivan’s kiss. She had felt passion in Sullivan’s kiss. She had seen desire and affection in Sullivan’s eyes, but Sullivan didn’t want that even if she felt it.
