Chapter 19

The next few weeks at Savor whirl by like a hurricane, with Patrick and me sneaking moments whenever we can. Our rendezvous spots are limited to the hidden nooks and crannies of the kitchen because my place is out—thanks to my ever-present roommates—and his is a definite no-go with Caleb in the apartment next door.

Each encounter is more electric than the last, leaving me breathless and increasingly curious about Patrick’s deeper layers. He had introduced me to a dash of BDSM a while back, just a hint, really, but since then, nothing. Part of me wonders if he’s holding back, worried about scaring me off.

I’m not scared; I’m intrigued. Seriously intrigued.

As each day ticks by, my curiosity about those unexplored adventures builds. It’s like standing in front of a mystery dish covered with a silver dome: you don’t know exactly what’s under there, but you just know it’s going to be good. Or at least interesting.

I’m chopping vegetables one quiet morning before the rush, pondering whether or not I should ask Patrick about his “special menu items” in the bedroom concerning BDSM.

Later, as we’re both prepping for the lunch service, I lean closer to him, my voice low. ‘Hey, Chef, remember that little culinary experiment you shared a few weeks back?’ I start, trying to keep it light yet direct.

Patrick looks up from his meticulous dicing, a flicker of something undefinable crossing his features. ‘Yes, I remember,’ he replies, his tone careful.

I take a deep breath, tossing the vegetables into a sizzling pan before continuing. ‘I was wondering if you might be planning to explore that menu further because I’ve been reading up on those dishes, and they sound quite diverse and flavorful.’

He chuckles, then says, ‘Flavorful, huh?’ He wipes his hands on a towel, turning to face me fully. ‘I didn’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.’

I meet his gaze, my determination simmering alongside the onions. ‘Consider me ready for a taste test. I’m curious, and let’s be honest—I trust you with all of the kitchen knives around here, so I think I can trust you with this, too.’

His smile then is slow and full of promises. ‘All right,’ he agrees, ‘let’s plan a proper exploration. But outside of work hours, and definitely not in the kitchen.’

‘Deal,’ I say quickly, excitement zipping through me like lightning.

Later, as I slip into the bathroom for a quick break, Liz, one of the waitresses, hurries in, looking a bit frantic. ‘Hey, Allie, you wouldn’t happen to have a tampon, would you?’ she asks, her voice edged with desperation.

‘Sure thing,’ I reply, reaching into my work bag and handing her one from the small makeup bag I keep stocked with essentials.

‘You’re a lifesaver,’ Liz sighs in relief, her gratitude genuine.

As she thanks me, I find myself staring down into the open bag, frowning. The realization hits me suddenly, stark and a bit unnerving. I haven’t reached for anything in this bag for myself in longer than I care to admit.

My mind races, the implications spinning out before me, and suddenly, the playful banter and the worries about Caleb finding out about us seem to fade into the background against the new, pressing concerns popping up in my mind.

Back at my chopping station, I’m slicing and dicing, but my mind’s working through a whole different kind of problem. I realize I haven’t been as consistent with the pill as I should have been, what with starting the new job and the excitement of sneaking around with Patrick.

I shake my head, attempting to clear it of the spiral that’s sure to come. I need to focus on work and figure the rest out after my shift. I’ll stop on my way home and grab a pregnancy test.

There’s no use worrying about it until I know for sure what’s going on.

Back in the familiarity of my own apartment after work, I’m buzzing from the evening’s unexpected turns.

I kick off my shoes and slump onto the couch beside Stacy. The kitchen adrenaline is fading, replaced by gnawing anxiety about the pregnancy test burning a hole in my purse. Stacy’s eyes are on the TV, but she senses the shift in my energy instantly.

‘Hey, what’s up? You look like you just witnessed a murder,’ she says, muting the TV and turning to face me.

I hesitate, the words heavy on my tongue. ‘I might be overreacting, but I’m a bit worried,’ I start, my voice exhausted.

Stacy’s expression softens, her attention fully on me now. ‘About what? Is everything okay with the job, with Patrick?’

I let out a shaky laugh, pulling the small box from my purse and showing it to her. ‘This is more about what might come with mixing business with pleasure. I think I might be pregnant.’

Stacy’s eyes widen, and she scoots closer. ‘Oh, Allie. Have you taken the test yet?’

‘No, I just picked it up after my shift,’ I tell her, feeling the weight of the situation settling between us.

‘Well, I’m here, okay? Whatever you need,’ she says, her voice firm with unwavering support.

I nod, feeling a surge of gratitude for having her by my side. ‘Thanks. I think I just need to do this and find out for sure. I’m probably worrying over nothing, right?’

Stacy gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘Right. But no matter what, I’ve got your back. Let’s find out and deal with it from there.’

I examine the box, my eyes scanning over the directions.

“It says it only takes a few minutes,” I say with a weak smile.

With that, I hurry to the bathroom and do the deed. As soon as the test is done, I practically sprint back to my room. Just in the nick of time, too, as I hear our roommates’ voices start to fill the apartment. Privacy is rare in our bustling shared space.

Stacy taps lightly on my door before entering and then closes it with a soft click, eyebrows raised in silent question. ‘Are you sure you did everything right?’ she whispers.

‘Yep, peed on a stick like a champ,’ I quip, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. ‘I mean, I’m on the pill, Stace. This should be a no-brainer, right?’

She nods, sitting down beside me on the bed. ‘How late are we talking here?’ she asks, her tone gentle.

I throw my hands up, a little exasperated with myself. ‘At least a week … maybe a bit more. My life’s been a bit of a blur lately with the new job and sneaking around with the boss.’

Stacy hums thoughtfully. ‘Any chance you’ve been sick? Sometimes, that can throw your cycle out of whack.’

I shake my head, sinking back against the headboard. ‘Nope, no sniffles or anything. Just lots of forgetfulness apparently, and not thinking about schedules.’

Our eyes are glued to my phone as the timer ticks down. It finally beeps, and we both jump a little. ‘Moment of truth,’ I announce, my heart thumping wildly as I reach for the stick.

We lean in close together, and I pull out the test. The little screen is merciless in its clarity.

Positive.

Well, shit.