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Even though it was a little after midnight, Scott was his usual energetic self, practically bouncing in his seat with excitement. “I can’t believe I finally get to see what your kitchen’s like. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to see behind the scenes of an actual restaurant?”
“Of course I do. I’ve seen all the cooking shows you watch.” Quill mentally patted himself on the back.
Who was the world’s most awesome boyfriend? Him, obviously.
“I have to warn you though,” he said. “It’s not going to be just like it is on tv.”
“Oh, I know that. It’s going to be all quiet at this hour. No cooking going on, no gossiping customers, no drama. And maybe it’s a little sad I won’t be able to see all the hustle and bustle of a dinner service, but I get it. Most kitchens are too small for someone to just stand around and watch what’s going on.” He nudged Quill’s side. “But, hey, no one else gets their own private tour of the place. One of the perks of dating the boss man.”
Quill let out a little breath of relief. He was lucky his boyfriend was so easy-going and accommodating. He still hadn’t come up with a good excuse for why he couldn’t take Scott behind the scenes during the day and luckily, Scott had come up with his own explanation. Awkwardness averted.
The parking lot was dark when Quill pulled in, the only light coming from the orange now of the neon sign on the building. The empty lot was an unsettling sight. A little “you shouldn’t be here” feeling prickled at the back of his mind as he stepped out of the car. He forcefully tamped it down.
“Damn, this is a pretty nice place,” Scott said with an appreciative whistle. “Definitely small, but it looks pretty damn fancy on the outside. I didn’t know you had such an eye for design. I like the snake motif.”
“I know a guy,” Quill said vaguely. “All his idea.”
“His idea to call it Jormag…Jorbaga…”
“Jormungandr. It’s the er, Norse word for the world.”
“So global cuisine,” Scott said with a nod. “I like the concept.” He clapped his hands together. “Come on, baby, let’s open her up and see the magic.”
Quill reached into his right pocket and…nothing. Huh. He could have sworn he put the key in his pocket right after he swiped it off Thor’s desk a few hours earlier. “Just…just give me a second here. Gotta remember where I put it.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “You have do have the key, right?”
“Of course I have a key,” Quill said with a roll of his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I have a key to my own place?” He stuck a hand in his jacket pocket and his eyes went wide. “Er…I mean….” He dug through his pockets frantically. “It’s gotta be here somewhere.”
Oh, Thor was going to kill him.
“I sure hope you picked more responsible people to open and close every day.” Scott shouldered past him and fiddled with the door for a few moments. “There we go,” he said. “Problem solved.”
“I think I love you,” Quill said faintly.
“What, you don’t know how to pick a lock?” Scott scoffed.
“Not with that much skill.”
Too bad Scott hadn’t been around when he was a teenager, making his living on the streets. Having an expert lock pick would have gotten him out of so many scrapes.
Scott waved a hand into the darkened exterior. “Where’s the light switch in this place?”
“It’s on the…no, wait. Close your eyes for a second. I want you to see everything the way it should be.”
He flicked on the lights, pausing just a moment for his eyes to adjust and then positioned Scott just past the photos of the Odinson brothers in the entryway. If he knew his boyfriend half as well as he thought he did, the sight of the kitchen would be too much of a distraction to resist.
“And open.”
Scott blinked a few times and then his eyes went wide. “Wow! Look at the size of this kitchen.”
Quill laced his hands behind his back and looked on fondly as his boyfriend darted around the kitchen, reverently running his hands across the counter tops, peering into drawers and cupboards.
He was a fucking genius. This was probably the best date Scott had ever had.
Scott paused at the locked door at the end of the kitchen. “And what’s behind here? Extra food storage?”
“Oh, that’s just the employee locker room,” Quill said dismissively. “It’s a mess in there. A big pile of uniforms waiting for the laundry service to pick up.”
Unfortunately, Scott’s eyes lit up. “Your chef keeps his uniform here?"
Oh god. Of course.
“It’s probably filthy right now,” Quill cautioned. “All the uniforms are, pretty much.”
“I don’t care. I’d be touching the uniform of a real life chef. Do you know how exciting that is?” Scott bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Tell me you have the key for it."
“That I do,” Quill said, unlocking the room with a flourish.
Scott picked through the pile of clothes and cried out in triumph when he finally dug out the chef’s coat. “When I was a kid, I always wanted to be a chef. Wearing another chef’s whites is probably the closest I’ll ever get myself, but it’s fun to dream.” He held it up for his inspection. “This might be a little big on me. Your chef’s a pretty big guy.”
“Well, you know what they say. Never trust a skinny chef.”
Which probably explained why Loki was such a volatile character. Not that he would ever say as much to his face.
“Seriously, though. He’s got the shoulders of a linebacker.” Scott slipped on the coat, rolled up the sleeves as far as they would go and struck a pose. “How do I look?”
Scott was pretty much swimming in the jacket, but Quill found he could overlook that. With his mix of confidence and bright-eyed enthusiasm, his boyfriend almost looked like a contestant on a cooking show.
“You’d make a good chef,” Quill said with a sage nod. “Ever think about signing up for cooking classes?”
Scott beamed. “I’ve been following along with all the cooking shows, but I think classes could be fun. As long as you come along with me, Mr. Restauranteur.”
Quill forced a smile. “You got it, babe.”
Would it be weird if a restaurant owner didn’t know how to cook? Quill hoped not.
“You should put one of these things on too,” Scott suggested. “We can do the whole chef and waiter thing. Unless it’s weird for you wearing one of your employee’s uniforms.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Quill grabbed his waiter’s uniform from the pile and shrugged it on.
“Wow, that fits like it was made for you.”
“Yeah,” Quill said with a nervous laugh. “Crazy, right? So weird how that worked out.”
Scott’s expression turned coy. “You know, since these things are going to get washed anyway, we might as well have a little fun wearing them."
All of Quill’s shame about wearing his waiter uniform in front of his boyfriend vanished. How did he get so unbelievably lucky? Scott was such a good guy, finding even this lowly position somehow sexy.
“So, why don’t you get back in the kitchen and pretend to cook something? And I’ll come in from the dining room, maybe give you a little grief about how long things are taking? Just a little something to get your riled up and wanting to get your hands on me.”
“Sounds good,” Scott said brightly. He took up a position at the counter, leaning down to sift through the pots and pans in the lower cabinet.
It took all of Quill’s self-control to walk away from that sight.
He took a leisurely stroll through the dining room, bowing to imaginary diners at all the tables. Playing at waiting tables was so much more relaxing than the actual thing.
But then he saw movement outside the window and the doorknob began to turn.
Shit, shit, shit.
He raced back into the kitchen. “Someone’s coming. We gotta hide.” He shoved Scott back into the locker room and shut the door behind them.
"How is this going to do any good?” Scott asked.
Quill hushed him.
“But we left the lights on in the kitchen.”
Aw, shit.
Quill held his breath as the sounds of footsteps got closer, coming to a halt outside the locker room. He willed whoever it was to keep walking.
But of course he wasn’t going to be that lucky.
Thor pulled open the door and peered inside. “Well, well, well, I thought I’d find you two in here.”
“Thor Odinson,” Scott said with a gasp. “I’ve seen you on Food of the Gods and Meat Feast.” He slid to the floor with a thump. “Under different circumstances, this would be totally awesome.”
Thor chuckled. “I can tell you’re a big fan. You’re wearing my chef’s jacket.”
Scott gasped and patted his chest. “This is yours? I had no idea you were the chef here.”
“Technically, my brother is the chef. I bought this place for him to begin his cooking career and he prefers that I leave him to his own devices for the most part. He wishes to build his own reputation. I can respect that.”
Scott frowned and gave Quill a long, searching look.
Quill cringed. Busted.
“You two are very lucky,” Thor said solemnly. “My brother has been very ill this week and needed me to step in. If Loki was to find you two in here….”
Quill shuddered. Yeah, Loki probably would have immediately started screaming and throwing knives at them. Thor was by far the most reasonable brother.
Thor clapped a hand on Quill’s shoulder. “I remember what it was like to be young and in love. I’m sure I’ve gotten into worse trouble in my day.” He placed a key in Quill’s hand. “Make sure you lock up properly when you leave. I won’t be pleased if the silent alarm goes off again in the middle of the night.”
Quill blinked down at the key. “But I’m fired, right?”
“We’ll talk tomorrow.” He closed the door gently behind him.
Scott put his hands on his hips. “So, you lied to me."
Quill hung his head. ”I know. And I’m sorry. You just lit up when you talked about food. And I wanted to impress you. I thought you’d be disappointed when you found out I was just a lowly waiter.”
“Why would I be disappointed? You work for Thor Odinson, the Thor Odinson!”
“Loki Odinson, technically. And probably not anymore.” His shoulders slumped.
Scott patted his shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, I totally bought you as a restaurant owner. If I ever become a famous chef, I already know who I want my business partner to be.”