“Probably best not to string him along, then,” said Lauren.
“Yeah. Pablo’s single again? See, I didn’t even know that.”
Paige grinned. “Yeah, he and that beardy guy broke up. He mentioned it when he came to the café the other day. He was pretty bummed about it, so now is probably not the time to swoop in there. Rebound flings never work out.”
“Huh,” said Evan.
“Don’t get ideas,” said Lauren.
“I’m not, I’m not. You’re right about rebounds. But, like, this kind of proves my point. If I’m just with Will because he’s not Pablo and I don’t want to be single, but not because I genuinely like him, then it’s not fair for either of us to stay together.”
“So you’re going to break up with him?” asked Lindsay.
“Yes, I think so.” Evan tapped his chin. “Maybe the lesson here is that if there is someone youdohave sparks with, then you should go for it.”
“Subtle,” said Lindsay.
Evan leveled his gaze at her. “Are you going to go out with Brad?”
“I will consider it.”
“Wow, guys,” said Paige. “So much enthusiasm.”
***
“I hate Restaurant Week,” Brad said.
Brad and Aaron had just been seated at Olive Tree, an upscale Mediterranean restaurant near Union Square. Brad eyed the prix fixe menu with resignation. There wasn’t anything on it that excited him.
“Latent PTSD?” Aaron asked. He looked around the very crowded restaurant.
“Well, sure, that.” For a couple of years, Brad had spent every night of New York City’s Restaurant Week—which was usually actually two weeks—churning out desserts, which had been its own kind of nightmare. “But actually, it’s that the menus are so uninspired. They limit the menu to what they know they can fire quickly and easily. So, look, our options are basically steak or a flatbread pizza, here at a restaurant that is known for good seafood and creative dishes.”
“We’ll have a good meal for a quarter of what it usually costs here,” said Aaron. “That’s the beauty of Restaurant Week.”
Brad sighed. “I guess that explains why you invited me here. I completely forgot it was Restaurant Week.”
“Restaurant Week is not all bad. I had the tasting menu at La Montagne last night. It was amazing. Buttery as hell, and they had to roll me out of there because I ate so much, but so,sogood.”
“See, that I would have appreciated.”
Sam, another culinary school buddy, buzzed over to the table and dropped into the third chair. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I had to fire an employee today, which was not the best.”
Brad, Aaron, and Sam had lived together for most of culinary school. Sam had followed Brad into studying pastry and currently owned an Upper West Side bakery where mostly he sold cupcakes. They got together for dinner about once a month to catch up. Brad really enjoyed these dinners, but he regretted letting Aaron choose the restaurant this time. He decided to set that aside and hoped the steak would be good.
“This guy just never made it to work on time.” Sam glanced at Brad. “You’re running a kitchen now, aren’t you? What time do you usually get there?”
“Five. It’s actually past my bedtime now. I’m only doing this because I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Sam picked up his menu. “I know what you mean.” His gaze ran over the text. “I don’t know why I bother to look at menus during Restaurant Week. I’m just gonna order whatever they want me to order.”
“You seem cheery tonight,” said Aaron.
Sam put the menu down and took a deep breath. “Again, sorry. Firing someone takes a lot out of you.”
“My boss is letting me hire another assistant,” said Brad, “so you should give me the name of your guy so I don’t hire him.”
“Oh, I will.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “It doesn’t help that Justin has been out of town on business the last few days.” Justin was Sam’s husband. “But let’s put all that junk aside. How are you guys?”
