He was suddenly starving. Then again, a hard practice always worked up his appetite.
“Will Katrina and the kids be joining you this weekend?” Mia asked.
Grant shook his head. “Katrina’s in Singapore this week on a photo shoot, and both Anya and Leo have tests so we didn’t want to pull them out of school. Plus, Thanksgiving break will be coming up soon and everyone will get together then.”
“Oh, good,” Mia said. “I haven’t seen Katrina or the kids in a while. I’ll be happy to see them at the ranch in a few weeks.”
Grant looked over at Flynn. “You’ll be there?”
“For at least a couple of days.”
Mia took a sip of her water, then smiled. “He’s bringing his girlfriend, too.”
Grant’s brows popped up. “You have a girlfriend? One you’ve managed to keep for more than a week?”
Flynn glared at Grant. “Screw you. And she’s not my girlfriend. Or I don’t know. Maybe she is. We’re kind of seeing each other.”
Grant slid a confused glance over at Mia. “What the hell does that even mean?”
Mia shrugged. “I have no idea. She’s the head chef at Ninety-Two. She’s smart and gorgeous and a lot of fun. Her name is Amelia. She’ll be at the game this Sunday.”
“Oh. Great,” Grant said. “After my team wins, maybe I’ll get a chance to meet her.”
“After my team wins, I might introduce her to you. Loser.”
“Don’t make me go sit at another table.” Mia shot both of them warning glances.
Flynn laughed. “Now you sound like Mom.”
“I could get her on the phone, ya know.”
“I think even she’d laugh at you if you tried that,” Grant said.
Fortunately for Mia, appetizers arrived and Flynn and Grant both shut up long enough to shove food in their mouths. And when conversation started up again, it was fairly benign. They talked about Mia’s trip to Stanford, and it was obvious she had decided not to tell Grant about her potential business venture, which meant he’d have to keep quiet about it. He made a mental note to mention that to Amelia as well, though he doubted she’d bring it up in conversation unless Mia was the one to initiate it.
After lunch, which was amazing, they went outside.
“What are you doing tonight?” Flynn asked Grant.
Grant shrugged. “Nothing. I have to be at practice in the morning pretty early.”
“Yeah, here, too. Why don’t you come to the house? We can go to the restaurant tonight if you want. Or I can fix dinner.”
Grant slanted him a suspicious look. “I don’t know about having dinner with you. You might be trying to give me food poisoning and knock me out of the game.”
“You’re both stupid,” Mia said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll see you at the house.”
Flynn laughed after Mia left. “She’s so serious all the time.”
Grant grinned. “Too grown up for my liking. Maybe she needs a boyfriend.”
Flynn shook his head. “No, she doesn’t. In fact, that’s the last thing she needs right now. She’s got her head on straight and she’s focused. She doesn’t need some asshole derailing all of that.”
Grant shoved him as they made their way to the parking lot. “Now you sound like Dad.”
“Fuck off.”
Grant laughed. “I’ll follow you to your place.”
SEVENTEEN
Amelia jotted down notes as she worked through a particularly complex stir-fry recipe.
Her kitchen was a wreck, but she was happy about the way this braised eggplant with chilis and garlic had turned out. Though she loved meats and cooked with them often, she wanted to include a vegetarian and vegan section in her cookbook.
She took a taste of the finished product.
“Mmm, that’s good.” She picked up her phone to check the time. Just enough time to put the food away in her freezer and clean up the mess she’d made before she had to get ready for work.
She’d spent the majority of her day cooking, cleaning pots and pans and then cooking again, but today was the day she’d set aside for trying recipes for her cookbook. She’d ended up creating three dishes. Two worked out well. One was a throwaway. All in all, not too bad.
Once she’d done all the dishes, she dashed upstairs and into the shower, dried her hair and tossed it into a high ponytail. She got dressed, put her regular clothes into a bag and drove to the restaurant.
She liked to get there about an hour before they opened so she could get a feel for the menu items on tap for the day, plus check in on her staff, who would prep the night’s meals.
Her new prep cook, Eugene, was working out well—and he was always on time, which was a bonus. If his probationary month worked out well, he would be getting a raise.
She went over tonight’s menu. They didn’t have enough stock of the giant prawns, so she crossed those off the menu and replaced them with a new scallop and pasta dish she’d wanted to introduce.
Once the menu for tonight was finalized, she set her staff to work.
“Can I see you for a minute, Amelia?” Ken asked.
“Of course.”
She stepped out of the kitchen and into the main dining room.
“What’s up?”
He pulled up his phone and handed it to her, a grin on his face. “It’s a boy.”
She looked at a photo of a red-faced newborn. Her eyes widened. “He’s here? I thought your surrogate wasn’t due until around Thanksgiving.”