His face lit with laughter, and something turned over inside me. My heart.

Ray stuck his head in the doorway. Like he’d been hanging around outside, waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt. “Starting the menu meeting, Chef.”

“Yes.” Eric collected his legs under him. Looked at me. “You are not staying?”

I shook my head. I had my prep list for the regular Sunday brunch menu. Deciding the specials—what needed to be used up or added to the standing delivery orders or fetched fresh from the market—was the chefs’ job. “I’ll be in in the morning. Six o’clock.”

Meaning, if I skipped the bar and went straight home, I could get, what? Four hours of sleep? My bones shuddered.

But life was full of trade-offs, right? Maybe I didn’t have the career I’d always dreamed of, but I was still living the life I’d chosen in the city I loved. At least for now.

“I’ll say good night, then,” Eric said politely.

I looked at him, uncertain. Will I see you later? But I couldn’t ask. Not with Ray standing there listening.

“Here.” Eric reached into the minifridge beside his desk, where the expensive stuff was stashed, white truffles and osetra caviar, and tossed me a bottle.

I caught it. Pedialyte. Yuck. “Are you kidding? My sister gives this stuff to her two-year-olds.”

His eyes narrowed in amusement. “You need electrolytes.”

The glow spread. He was taking care of me. Of course, he looked out for everybody on his team. But his attention to me felt different. Sweet. Special.

“Oh. Well . . .” I raised the bottle in salute. “Cheers.”

Maybe he’d call after he left the restaurant, I thought hopefully. Or text.

And maybe he wouldn’t.

Sure, he’d texted me before. Or rather, I’d messaged him through his restaurant account. He could get my number from my file. But we weren’t exactly a couple. He could have a girlfriend I didn’t know about. A chef groupie. A regular booty call.

Sex was like food, after all. A basic need. That’s what I’d always believed, no matter what Meg or Trey or all those poets I’d studied in college said.

“I have such a taste for you, Jo.”

His whisper sparkled along my nerves, burst in my chest like a fistful of glitter. And my breath went all over again.

I walked through the kitchen on autopilot. Isaam gave me a friendly wave from the dishwashing bay as I passed.

“Good night,” I called.

“Nos vemos mañana,” Tomas said. See you in the morning.

It was almost one now. Outside, the glow of the streetlights obliterated the stars. The sidewalks glittered with frost. Going underground, the air was dank and cold. Huddled on the subway, rocking to the rhythm of the train, I unscrewed the Pedialyte and took a swig. Shuddered. Recapping the bottle, I pulled out my phone. Hoping.

A message from Meg lit up the screen. An update on Mom, still recovering from her fall. A mirror selfie of Meg in a red dress, head angled like a pro. Getting ready to go out! my sister had typed. It’s not the same without you.