Free If I Told You by Jennifer Domenico Page B

you’re actually in an upscale Manhattan eatery. I had the pleasure of sitting at the chef’s table and indulging in his best dishes. Each bite was more impressive than the last, and I found myself looking forward to each new dish that made its way to my table.”
    “Awesome,” Flynn murmurs, as he starts to relax. “He liked it.”
    “There’s more.” I scroll down to see the rest of the write up. “You must make yourself a reservation and try the absolutely sumptuous truffle lobster ravioli, the undeniable lemon braised trout, and for dessert, the decadent panna cotta with sea salt caramel. You won’t be disappointed.”
    “I did it, Brooks. I made it.”
    “I know. Wait, there’s more.” I continue to read. “Fellows, Flynn’s also attracts some of Manhattan’s most beautiful women, from the hostess to the clientele. I wouldn’t be surprised if Flynn’s becomes a hot spot to meet that special someone.” I look up, smiling. “Personally, I can’t wait for my next opportunity to dine at Flynn’s. Chef Flynn made an impression on me I won’t soon forget. My rating? Flynn’s gets five delicious stars. Look for the full write up with photos in next month’s issue of Foodie magazine.”
    “Unbelievable,” Flynn mutters.
    “What a fantastic review. The best you’ve had so far.”
    “Yeah, for sure.”
    “We should celebrate.”
    Flynn grins. “How?”
    “I’ll make the drinks.”
    “Sounds good.”
    I stand up and walk over to our little makeshift bar to begin making cocktails. I’m over the moon excited for Flynn. This was exactly the break he needed.
    After drinks are finished, I carry them into the living room where Flynn is setting up our dinner he prepared.
    “Braised beef in a mushroom sherry sauce,” he announces.
    “Yum. Two dirty martinis.”
    “Nice.” We clink glasses. “To best friends.”
    “And to the success you deserve.”
    Flynn leans forward and kisses my cheek. “I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone but you.”
    “Same here, Flynn.” After taking a sip of my drink, I dig into my food, happy that the tension we’ve had the past few days is over now, and we can get back to normal. As I chew my meal, I realize I’m the cause of all that tension, and I really don’t know why I’ve been acting so out of character lately. I do know that I need to knock it off before we both make a decision we can’t come back from.
    “Well?” Flynn asks, cutting into my thoughts. “How many stars do I get?”
    I smile at the handsome man beside me, thankful I can call him my friend. “Five delicious stars, Chef.”
     

     
    The next morning, after I finish teaching a kickboxing class, I walk back to my office when my phone rings. I smile when I see Rhys’s number pop up.
    “This is Brooklyn.”
    “Hey.”
    “Hi, Rhys.”
    “How are you?”
    “Good. You?”
    “Not bad. Thinking about you.”
    “Is that so?”
    “Yep. I’d love to see you again. You available Wednesday night?”
    “Sure. Dinner?”
    “Yes.”
    “Okay.”
    “Great. Did Flynn see my article?”
    “Absolutely. We read it together last night. It was awesome.”
    “He deserved it. Has he been by the restaurant today?”
    “I’m not sure. He’s closed on Mondays.”
    “Well I drove by a little while ago and there was a crowd peeking through the windows.”
    “Really?”
    “Yep. It’s about to explode. Trust me on this. They call it the Rhys Effect.”
    “What’s it like having so much power?”
    Rhys chuckles. “Pretty fucking amazing.”
    “I bet.” I sit down at my desk. “You’re right though. Flynn deserves it. He’s worked hard for years to make a name for himself, and overnight, as they say, here it is.”
    “Glad I could be a part of it. Mostly because I met you.”
    “That’s kind of sweet.”
    “I can be.”
    “When you want something.”
    “Someone. Saturday night was amazing, Brooklyn. You left me wanting more.”
    “That was my plan.”
    “I bet. Did Flynn see