Another Monday, another peaceful day at Suivante. No service meant no customers breathing down my neck, no frantic plating up. Just me, my team, and the chance to get our house in order.
But as I trudged into the restaurant this Monday, my phone buzzed with a short text from Dom.
Dom: Hope you’re good. Taking Gina for coffee, seeing if she’s heard from Leonardo. Will text later.
It wasn’t exactly the comforting message I’d hoped for. All I knew about things was that Leo had stormed off the other day after finding out about the twins. Dom was upset, though he tried not to show it. But he’d been suddenly too busy to come by since then. I was pretty sure he was waiting until he calmed down.
A pang of worry pressed into my chest. If only I could fix that for him.
I shoved the phone into my back pocket, inhaling the familiar scents of Suivante. Tomato sauce, natural cleaner, a strong whiff of espresso from the bar up front. At Winner’s suggestion, Carrie had started a new practice of letting staff come in at ten on Mondays, so the place was quiet except for a few early-arrival line cooks rummaging through crates of produce in the kitchen.
“Morning, Chef,” Jean-Paul called, glancing up from a massive box of tomatoes. “We got a double shipment of these guys. Looks like a mix-up at the supplier.”
“Great,” I mumbled, tucking my hair under a bandana. “We’ll figure it out.”
He nodded, returning to his sorting. I forced a small smile, ignoring the worry swirling in my gut about Dom and his kids. The hush of the kitchen should’ve been soothing, but the moment I stepped into the walk-in to assess inventory, a bright, perky voice made my hackles rise.
“Ella!” It was Winner. She stood near the shelves of flour, arms folded, wearing an expression that screamed I have gossip.
What fresh hell is this? “Morning, Winner.”
She grinned, all teeth. “Heard from Tom, who heard from Harris, that you were at his restaurant for date night last week. Fancy, chef.”
“Why are you name-dropping people like I’m supposed to know them?” I stiffened, rummaging through a box of parmesan wheels.
She ignored the question. “He mentioned that your date probably qualifies for AARP.”
The urge to defend Dom almost made me crack, but that was what she wanted. “Not sure why that’s your business.”
Winner shrugged, leaning against a metal rack. Her eyebrows waggled, practically humming with glee. “Something about father-daughter confusion by the server?”
A spark of anger flared in my gut. Are we really going to do this? “Yeah, it’s a shame they don’t train their servers to be less nosy. No one likes when someone butts into their business,” I said pointedly.
She chuckled, unbothered. “Okay, Miss Secretive. But I gotta say, hooking up with an old man—that’s a power move, if you’re looking to be a sugar baby.”
My patience snapped as I dumped the parmesan onto a dolly. “Stop acting like you know me or my life and get back to work.”
She smirked, raising her hands in mock surrender. “So touchy about your old doctor boyfriend. How does he pronounce that mouthful of a last name? Mortally?”
“Winner, get back to the line,” Carrie’s no-nonsense tone echoed in the chilly space as she approached us. “Ella, in my office. Now.”
My stomach lurched. Shit. Winner shot me a smug grin and ducked out, leaving me alone with our boss, whose eyes glittered with something that wasn’t friendly.
“Office,” Carrie repeated, turning on her heel.
I followed, nerves twisting in my belly. I’d lied to Carrie about Dom for a while, sure, but I’d planned on telling her soon. Winner…she must have told her.
Inside Carrie’s office, she closed the door behind me with a click, arms crossed over her chest. The room was small, cluttered with stacked papers and a half-finished cappuccino on the desk, but it felt cavernous under her glare.
“What’s up?” I asked, trying for casual, though my voice wavered.
She pinned me with a hard stare. “Mortally? Mortoli, right?”
My heart thumped. “You’re spying on us in the walk-in?”
“No, I happened by when Winner asked you about a date you never mentioned, so I listened in, and yeah, okay, that sounds like spying. Whatever. Point is, you don’t talk to me anymore. Not like you used to. If you’re dating Dominic Mortoli, the doctor who saved your life…that crosses all kinds of ethical boundaries for him, right?”
“Okay. And that concerns you because…?”
Her eyes blazed. “It concerns me because no doctor with his reputation would casually date a patient unless he had cause to do that. The only way he’d justify that is if,” she swallowed, “if he was the father of your girls.”
Fuck. I didn’t want to lie to her anymore. It was past time for this to come out. “You’re right. He is.”
She glanced away, the hurt plain on her face. “You lied to me, Ella. Lied about the father of your kids. You let me think it was some random fling or nonexistent man, but all along it was Dom and you knew it was him, right?”
My cheeks burned hot. “Carrie, I—”
She shook her head, jaw tight. “Everyone’s whispering that you have a sugar daddy. God. And I’ve been nothing but supportive, letting you have extra time off, covering your shifts. I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends,” I insisted, voice shaky. “I just…it was complicated, okay? I didn’t want to make things messy with Seth and Dom both in the same hospital department. And I planned to tell you soon, once Dom and I were certain about us.”
Her nostrils flared. “Messy? Ella, do you realize how bad this looks for me, vouching for you, letting you take extended leave, only to find out from the rumor mill that your baby daddy is some guy from my husband’s department? You made me look like an idiot.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to blindside you.”
She exhaled, raking a hand through her hair. “We used to share everything, or so I thought. Why did I have to hear about your relationship by spying on you in the walk-in?”
Shame crawled up my neck. “I didn’t want to complicate things. You and Seth have enough drama with the hospital politics. Dom’s going for the same promotion, and Seth hates him. If I told you about us, you’d tell Seth, and—”
“And you didn’t think I’d have your back if I knew?”
“You’re married to Seth, not me. Of course, I thought you’d tell him.”
Her eyes went cold. “He’s my husband, but you’re my friend. Or at least, you were. What Seth does at work is Seth’s business. But you are my business. I don’t tell him about my business. You should have trusted me, Ella.”
I clenched my fists, frustration mingling with remorse. “It wasn’t about not trusting you. It was about not stirring the pot. Dom and I only reconnected after the twins came home. Before that, we were just…it was complicated.”
She scowled, pacing behind her desk. “So you haven’t been secretly seeing him all this time?”
“No. We only hooked up again months after I gave birth. We’re serious now, but it wasn’t always that way.”
She paused, arms dropping to her sides. “So you’re saying you didn’t know he was the father until later, or you did, but you just didn’t want to share that with me?”
“I knew. But I was scared, Carrie. He’s older, he’s my ex’s father—”
Her lips parted in shock. “Ex’s father?”
I froze, realizing I’d let that slip. Dom’s confrontation with Leo was supposed to remain hush-hush, but now…fuck. “Yes,” I mumbled. “Leo, Dom’s son, was my last boyfriend before Dom. That’s a whole other fiasco. That’s why I’ve been terrified to tell anyone.”
Carrie stared, mind clearly blown. “I—holy shit, Ella.” Then she sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. “I had no idea.”
“I didn’t either, not when we got pregnant. Neither of us knew about our Leo connection when it happened. I only figured it out the morning after, and I bailed on him. We didn’t see each other again until I was wheeled into the emergency room.”
“Shit,” she muttered.
I fought the urge to cry. “You see now why I kept quiet? It’s not exactly easy to explain.”
She sank into her desk chair, face etched with conflict. “It’s huge, Ella. And I still feel…betrayed, I guess. I was your friend, your boss, and I had no clue. People asked me about you, and I had nothing to give them, other than you’re a wonderful mom. When this comes out, no one will believe me when I say I didn’t know, because they all know we’re close. That will break a little of their trust in me. You get that, right? Restaurants run on gossip and trust—”
“Carrie,” I said softly, stepping closer. “I’m sorry. Truly. I never wanted to hurt or embarrass you. But this was something Dom and I had to figure out privately.”
“And now you’re officially together?”
“Yes. We decided we’re done hiding. That’s why we went to that restaurant.”
She pursed her lips, nodding. “I appreciate you finally telling me, even if it’s late. But Ella, this is going to be…complicated. With you two going public, Seth will find out, and he won’t be as understanding.”
A cold ball formed in my stomach. “Seth and Dom aren’t friends anyway. What else can he do?”
“He can try to sabotage the promotion, for one. Or feed rumors to the board about him and a patient hooking up. And if he finds out you’re the ex of Dom’s son? Jesus, it’s a scandal waiting to happen.”
“We can’t control that. Dom said we’re better off being honest.”
She rolled her eyes. “Dom might not care about the gossip, but Seth sure does. He’s petty, Ella. He might use this as leverage to paint Dom as unethical or a conflict of interest.”
A flush of anger lit my cheeks. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Agreed,” Carrie muttered. “But that won’t stop Seth if he sees an opportunity. He hates Dom with a passion.” She paused, exhaling. “Look, I’m still mad at you for lying, but…I get it. It’s a messy situation.”
“Thank you. I was scared of losing your friendship. And my job. I know how weird this is.”
She softened, leaning back in her chair. “I won’t fire you over your personal life, Ella. That’s not me. Just—no more secrets, okay? If I have to go to bat for you, I need the truth. Even if it’s ugly.” She paused, thinking. “Especially when it’s ugly.”
“No more secrets,” I promised. “From now on, you’ll know everything.”
Carrie sighed, tapping her desk thoughtfully. “We’ll keep this quiet from the rest of the staff, though, okay? At least until you’re ready to tell them. I can’t handle Winner’s smug face if she realizes how juicy this gossip is.”
“Agreed. She’s a pain.”
“She is, but she’s hell in the kitchen, and I’ve needed that, so I let some of her shit slide. And she’s funny, in her own way.” Rubbing her temples, Carrie shot me a pointed look. “Just be careful. If Seth finds out Dom impregnated the ex of his own son…”
My gut twisted. “I know. It could destroy Dom’s career. But he’s prepared to fight for it.”
Carrie cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders with that brisk authority. “Now, get out of my office. We have a double tomato shipment to deal with.”
A half-laugh, half-sob escaped me. “Right. On it, boss.”
I spotted Winner lurking near the kitchen pass, shooting me a curious glance. I forced a bland smile. “You need something to do, or what?”
“Just checking if you need help, chef.”
I ignored her pointed tone, stepping briskly into the kitchen. Jean-Paul waved me over, asking about sauce variations. Fine—work, I could manage. My personal life was a circus, but at least I was in my element here.
As I directed the staff to store tomatoes, re-label containers, and handle the usual Monday chaos, my mind swirled with everything Carrie had said.
Seth might sabotage Dom.
The thought made me bristle. Amid the bustle, my phone buzzed. Curiosity gnawed, but I held off checking, focusing on finishing the morning tasks. If it was Dom, I’d catch up once I wasn’t in front of prying eyes. If it was Winner’s next rumor, I’d fling my phone into the fryer. Or at her head.
By noon, the shipments were squared away, and I finally retreated to the alley behind the kitchen for a moment of quiet. Leaning against the brick wall, I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, Dom had texted.
Dom: No word from Leonardo yet. Gina’s worried. Let me know if you’re okay.
My heart squeezed. His kids are being a handful, but he’s worried about me. That sweet man.
Me: I’m fine. Had an awkward talk with Carrie. She knows everything now.
Dom: Everything? You okay?
Me: Shaky, but we’ll manage. Seth might be an issue. But it’s out in the open now.
Dom: I’m sorry. If I can help, let me know. I’m here.
Me: Thanks. One crisis at a time.
With that, I pocketed my phone, letting out a breath. Carrie was mad, but we’d come to an understanding. Dom was dealing with his own fallout. The staff might gossip, but I had no regrets about claiming Dom openly—except for how it might impact him.
Still, as I headed back inside, I squared my shoulders. Let them talk. Carrie had forgiven me. The rest of the staff could whisper all they wanted about my “ancient boyfriend”. The only thing that truly mattered was me, Dom, and our girls.
And if that meant handling a few meltdown Mondays, so be it.
