Personal Chef

Chapter 55

It's not like I didn't know it was coming. I knew Kat was due at the end of January.

Somehow this knowledge did not make it any easier when I saw the news that the baby had arrived.

Yes, I'd been doing pretty well on the moving-on front. That didn't mean I was completely healed. My wounds may have closed up, but they were still sore.

I stared at the Instagram post for several minutes before setting my phone down. A few minutes later, Paige called me.

"Hey," she said, trying to sound like it was totally natural for her to call this early. "What are you up to?"

I sighed. "I saw the news. You don't have to ease into telling me about it."

"Oh. Are you okay? If you need to come in late today, we'll manage without you."

"I wouldn't exactly say I'm okay, but I'm perfectly able to go to work. The last thing I need is to spend the day alone wallowing in my grief."

"If you're sure. Just promise me that after we close, you and I can crack open a bottle of wine and talk shit about Shawn and Kat," she said.

I couldn't help but laugh. "I don't want to talk shit about either of them. He's my friend, and yours, too. She's just given birth. I wish her well."

Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration.

"I wish her one of those horrible vaginal tears I heard about from my sister."

"You're terrible!" I scolded, though I sort of loved the idea.

"She deserves it."

After showering, I took the short walk to the bistro and started getting the place ready as my employees showed up. It was a weekday, so we had to be prepared for the morning rush. The good thing was that I wouldn't have to work late. I'd adjusted the schedule so that we closed at 10:00 PM on Monday through Thursday. Even with the wine bar, not many people stayed later on those days. Friday and Saturday I stayed open until 11:30, though. Sunday evenings were the slowest time at the bistro. There was a decent crowd for dinner, but people didn't tend to sit at the wine bar very late. I'd made a decision to close at 9:00 that night. One of the things I loved about owning my own restaurant was that I had the flexibility to make changes as needed.

After the commuter crowd cleared out, I sat down at an empty table with my laptop and placed some food orders. When that was done I paid some bills and looked over my finances. I was doing okay. Chelsea's Bistro wasn't going to make me filthy rich, but it was definitely turning a profit. Once I'd completed these tasks I pulled out my phone and texted Shawn because as his friend, I had to.

Me: Congrats!

It was all I could say. I didn't want to mention Kat and I didn't want to refer to him being a dad, because that hurt a little.

I was shocked to see the three dots showing that a response was coming.

Shawn: thanks!

Shawn: he's perfect

Shawn: want to see a pic?

I gulped. Did I want to see a picture? The curious side of me did. Plus, I knew Shawn was eager to share his son with me. I took several deep breaths to prepare myself and typed back to him.

Me: Of course!

Almost instantly a photo came through. Shawn's son was beautiful. He had brown hair, a perfect little nose, and full pink lips. He was sound asleep in his hospital bassinet and looked so peaceful.