“If you’re sure, but I owe you, okay? Anything. All you have to do is ask.”
Mac smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. You never know when you need to cash in a favor.”
“You know, if you miss cooking so much, you should get your ass back in a swanky restaurant.”
Tommy rounded the counter and came to stand beside his friend in front of the stove.
The easy smile on Mac’s lips vanished as a haunted look darkened the man’s eyes and his jaw tensed.
“That’s not an option.”
Then he turned away, opening cabinets. Noting the tension radiating from his friend, Tommy dropped the subject. “Whatchya looking for?”
“Pots and pans.”
He pointed to the cabinet two doors down.
“Ah. Thanks.” Mac grabbed a pot, filled it with water, and set it on the stove.
“So what are we making for breakfast?” Tommy asked.
“A classic. Eggs Benedict with a side of sliced fresh fruit.” Mac started pulling items from the grocery bag—eggs, English muffins, strawberries, pineapple. And the ingredients kept coming.
“Jeez. And for lunch and dinner, too, I take it?”
Mac made a face at him. “Lunch is a nice lobster bisque and mixed green salad with a red-wine vinaigrette. And for dinner, we’re going all out. Dover sole with crabmeat and seafood stuffing.”
Most of this sounded Greek to Tommy. He sighed. “You do realize Julie will know I didn’t make this alone, right?”
Mac chuckled. “Sorry about that. When I got to shopping, I got a little carried away.”
The statement made Tommy wonder even more why Mac refused to be a chef again. He obviously loved to cook. Had been—still was—damn good at it. What could have happened that made his friend stop doing something he loved so much?
Mac unwrapped the fresh English muffins and thrust them at Tommy, breaking into his thoughts.
“Throw these in the oven. Then we’ll start on the hollandaise sauce.”
Mac took the lead on poaching the eggs, which was fine with Tommy. If they weren’t scrambled he had no idea how to fix them. He watched Mac slide the eggs into simmering water while Tommy sautéed the Canadian bacon.
“How is Julie, anyway?” Mac asked, breaking the companionable silence.
“She was hurting pretty badly last night. I’m hoping the muscle cream and relaxers have worked some their magic today.”
Mac removed the eggs from the water with a slotted spoon and placed them on a paper towel, dabbing off the excess water. “Glad it wasn’t worse.” He paused a moment before saying, “Mike let the guys know you’re coming back tomorrow. Thought I’d give you a heads up that some of the guys aren’t too thrilled.”
Tommy had expected that. Right before it all imploded around him, several of the guys didn’t even want to be in the gym while he was there. Damn, he must have been a real douche. “Mike said I had a lot to prove, and I know I do. Not just to him and Ethan, either. To everyone. I wronged a lot of people there at the end, so I get that it’s going to take time for people to trust me again.”
“I won’t sugarcoat it. The guys were glad to see you go back then.” His friend looked over at him as Tommy winced. “There were a couple of times I wanted to punch you in the face myself. Especially when you’d show up an hour late for practice, then be a complete dickhead to everyone around you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t have any excuses, Mac. Something happened to me after I won that belt. I changed, and not for the better. Priorities got skewed.” He slashed a hand through his hair. “Some people handle fame with grace. I was not one of them. If I get a second chance, believe me, the outcome won’t be the same. I realize I have way more to lose now.”
“Unfortunately, it takes losing everything you have to realize what meant the most.” Mac squinted for a second, then gave his head a shake.
Tommy wanted to offer his friend support, but Mac was a very private person and wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, so he said, “Anyway, the guys may get a bit of a reprieve. I’m going to postpone my return until Julie is up and moving around on her own.”
“I figured that would be the case.” Mac stepped back from the stove and clapped his hands. “Okay.
Sauce is done. All we’ve got to do is set the plate. You want to do that?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Mac instructed Tommy on how to layer the English muffin just right. “Now drizzle the sauce on top.”
After he’d done so, and added a serving of grapes, pineapples, and strawberries, he placed the plate on a tray with a tall glass of orange juice.
Mac frowned.
“What?” Tommy asked.
“It needs something. Hold on.” He sliced another ring from the pineapple, then cut away the hard exterior and carved out chunks until it had six pointed sides like a star. Grabbing a toothpick, he stabbed it through one of the smaller strawberries and threaded it through the middle of the pineapple so the red fruit sat on top. Then he placed it on the corner of the plate.