Of Love and Corn Dogs Read online

  Of Love and Corn Dogs

  By

  Parker Williams

  Copyright

  Of Love and Corn Dogs is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Parker Williams

  Cover Art & Formatting by Author.Services

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States.

  ISBN: 978-1-941841-47-1

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Contact the publisher for further information: [email protected]

  Acknowledgements

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following trademarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Corvette (Stingray): General Motors, LLC

  Golden Chicken: Four Brothers, Inc.

  Kendall-Jackson merlot: Jackson Family Wines, Inc.

  Mac: Apple, Inc.

  Macallan M: The Macallan Distillers Limited.

  McDonald’s: McDonald’s Corporation

  MIT: Massachusetts Institute of Technology Corporation

  NASDAQ: NASDAQ, Inc.

  Prada: Prada S.A.

  The Godfather: Paramount Pictures Corporation

  Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Of Love and Corn Dogs

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Also Available

  About the Author

  Of Love and Corn Dogs

  With more money than he could spend in ten lifetimes, Darwin Kincade still couldn't keep death from stealing his lover. A little older and a whole lot wiser, flirting with his twice-a-week waiter is the perfect no-risk substitute for a real relationship. Until the night his routine is upended by the restaurant's newest employee.

  Ricky Donnelly loves people. While being a server isn’t his dream, he’s good at it. When a grumpy man is seated in his station, Ricky sees there’s more to him than he lets on, and when the man relaxes, he’s actually sweet.

  As the two men bond over a discussion about corn dogs—something Darwin’s never heard of—he realizes how much he’s missed out on in his life. He vows to open himself to new experiences—including, perhaps, a chance at finding love again.

  Not wanting anything to muddy their blooming relationship, Darwin hides part of himself from Ricky. He likes the look in Ricky’s eyes, unclouded by Darwin’s notoriety. Unfortunately, the truth can never stay hidden, and when it comes out, Darwin may lose any hope of holding onto the future they’ve begun to build.

  Chapter One

  Darwin sat at his usual table and scanned the restaurant, anxious to see Roy, his favorite server. From the soft lighting of the candelabras that dotted the walls and the gleaming hardwood bar to the deep, rich brown carpeting, everything about Asiago screamed class. As the only five-star restaurant in the area, everything had to be the best. But Roy outshone all the glitz of the dining room. While Darwin knew Roy saw him as a customer, he secretly hoped that one day the waiter might realize he hadn’t been coming for the food all these months.

  He frowned when the young man who approached the table looked nothing like the raven-haired beauty Darwin had grown accustomed to seeing twice a week for the last six months. He tried to school his features to hide his disappointment, not wanting to hurt the slender blond with the wide smile who drew near.

  “Good evening, Mr. Kincade. My name is Richard, and I'll be your server for this evening. Would you like to start with a drink?”

  “Where's Roy?” Darwin growled. His cheeks heated when Richard stepped back, looking every bit the kicked puppy. Darwin winced. He knew better than to snap at people. He scratched his cheek before he glanced up. “I’m sorry. It's been a long day. Please forgive me. I assume Roy isn't working tonight?”

  “Roy quit a couple days ago,” came the hesitant answer.

  Darwin's gut clenched. He'd been coming to Asiago simply for Roy. Truthfully, the merely palatable food hadn’t been a drawing point. Seeing Roy had become the highlight of his week, and now he was gone.

  “Did he say where he was going?” A hint of whine escaped, but goddamn it, he'd been in lust with Roy.

  “He and his wife moved to be closer to her parents.”

  Nausea rolled through Darwin. He hadn't even considered Roy might not have been gay. Such a fool he was.

  “Would you like that drink?” Richard asked hesitantly.

  Darwin knew Asiago was one of the few places in the United States that had the drink he loved most. “Yes, please. A shot of Macallan M. Neat.”

  Richard gasped and then covered his mouth. “Sir, that costs—”

  “I damn well know the cost,” he snapped. “Bring me my drink.”

  Once more Darwin's anger had gotten the better of him. Green eyes shimmered in the dim lighting, and Darwin worried the young man might break into tears.

  “Again, please accept my apologies. It’s been a rough day, and I should probably just go home.” He reached over and grabbed his briefcase, ready to stand, when Richard held out a hand and graced Darwin with a genuine and disarming smile.

  “No, please. Stay. Let me get you that drink, okay? I'll let you know the dinner special when I come back. My grandma always said any day can be made better with a good meal.” Richard hurried off in the direction of the bar without waiting for a reply.

  Darwin fumed at his lack of self-control. Not only had he made a fool of himself tonight, but he'd also hurt the feelings of someone he didn't know. Though Richard would be right to refuse service to Darwin, he’d run to get a drink. As much as he wanted to believe the attentive attitude came down to getting a decent tip, Richard seemed too genuine for that. Darwin sighed and put his briefcase back on the leather seat. His mother would be so disappointed in him.

  A crystal glass thunked against the table, startling Darwin. The amber liquid rippled gently. Darwin picked it up and gazed into the glass. He'd thought about downing it in one go, relishing the burn that would inevitably follow, but he hated losing control. He took a deep, steadying breath.

  “Richard—”

  “Ricky.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Most people call me Ricky. You can, if you want.”

  Darwin smiled at him, hoping to convey his contrition. “Ricky, then. I'm very sorry. I'm out of sorts, and it's not fair to you that I'm being so…” Darwin looked for just the right word.

  “Antagonistic?”

  Darwin reared back in his seat and looked at the young man, who was now giving him a cheeky grin. He couldn’t help but be put at ease by the gentle teasing. “Okay, we'll go with that.”

  “I'm sorry I'm not Roy,” Ricky told him. “I’d only met him when I got hired here. He was a great waiter, and I doubt I can fill his shoes. If you prefer, I'll find you someone else.”

  “No, I think you'll do just fine. Tell me about the dinner special.”

  This time Ricky’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Tonight we have a truffle-braised tenderloin served with whipped dauphinoise potatoes and honey-glazed carrots.” In fact, as he recited the s
pecial, it became obvious the whole shtick had been practiced to death.

  Darwin grinned. His turn to do a little teasing. “And what did you think of it?”

  “Excuse me?” Ricky asked, obviously not expecting the question.

  Darwin tapped his index finger on the table, feigning irritation. The adorable look of consternation on Ricky’s face amused him. “I assume you tried it, so what did you think?”

  Ricky bit the corner of one lip, then glanced around, before he leaned forward and whispered, “Honestly? I thought it was pretentious. Give me a corn dog any day.”

  Darwin burst out laughing, which drew unhappy stares from the patrons at nearby tables. He didn’t care. “What's a corn dog?”

  “It’s a… Well, it’s…” Ricky blinked a couple of times. “You really don't know what a corn dog is? Seriously?”

  “Well…no. I don't know that I've ever had one. Do you think they can make me one here?”

  Ricky snorted. “Chef Michael thinks corn dogs aren't even real food. He claims he wouldn't feed them to his Pekingese. So, no, you definitely won't find corn dogs here.”

  Darwin had to admit, he’d never really had a taste for Asiago’s cuisine. And Ricky’s certainty that a corn dog would be better had intrigued him. “Then can you tell me where to find your favorite one?”

  “The best ones in town are at the mini-putt course over on Klein.”

  “Mini-putt?”

  Ricky shook his head. “You're kidding, right? How do you not know these things?”

  Darwin sat back and grinned. Ricky had no idea who Darwin was, and he found the anonymity oddly refreshing. He leaned forward and put his chin on the palm of his hand. “I lead a sheltered life, apparently. So, if I want a corn dog, I need to go to the mini-putt place.” Ricky gave a slight nod, and Darwin chuckled. “Okay, I'll do that.”

  He stood, picked up his briefcase and began to move toward the door when the manager, Louisa, rushed to his table. She scowled at Ricky, which had Darwin’s teeth grinding.

  “Mr. Kincade, is something wrong?” she asked quietly, obviously not wanting the other patrons to witness the discussion.

  “No, everything is perfect. I like this young man,” he said, waving a hand toward Ricky. “He's refreshing.”

  The condescending look Louisa gave Ricky told him she didn't agree. “If he's done anything to upset you—”

  “Wait. Why would you think he upset me? If anything, I was the responsible party. Ricky did nothing wrong at all. He talked me into a nice drink, and that's all I needed for tonight.” He turned to Ricky. “I’ll stop at the bar to pay for the drink. Thank you for a most entertaining evening.”

  He reached into his wallet and peeled off two one-hundred-dollar bills, which he tossed on the table. “For your time and trouble,” he said to Ricky, then started for the door again. He turned and noted Louisa's body language—tense, with her gaze fixed on Ricky, who appeared nervous, and that didn’t sit well with Darwin at all.

  “I'm coming back Monday. Please reserve me a table, and note that I want Ricky as my server.”

  If she'd had a mouthful of water, she'd have spit it everywhere. She jabbed a finger in Ricky’s direction. “You want…him?”

  Darwin narrowed his gaze. The manager’s attitude, coupled with the helpless expression on Ricky’s face had him feeling protective. “Yes. Is there a problem with that?”

  She moved forward and put a hand on his back as she guided him to the door. Darwin forced himself to remain calm. He didn’t like people touching him without his permission, and this woman had already gotten his dander up.

  “Well,” she said slowly. “Ricky is on probation. He hasn't exactly been working out. He's slow and has been argumentative with customers.”

  “Yet he was perfect with me. Perhaps the issue was the customers and not the server. Maybe you should consider that. I expect him to be here Monday. If he’s not…”

  Darwin left the threat unvoiced. Unlike Ricky, Louisa knew who he was and what he could do if he wanted. He left the woman standing there, huffing like a wild beast, as he stepped out of the restaurant into the cool Chicago night. He gazed wistfully back at the front of the restaurant while he called his driver. Roy was gone, but…Ricky seemed as though he'd be very interesting, too.

  Roy had never engaged Darwin in conversation. He’d never been even remotely friendly. The only thing he really had going for him were his looks. Ricky had looks, too, but he also had panache.

  Darwin looked forward to seeing him again.

  The long, sleek limo pulled up a few moments later. A tall, slender man stepped out, dressed in a black suit and hat, and began to round the car. He frowned, no doubt wondering why Darwin had called him already.

  “That was fast, Dare.”

  Darwin grinned at his oldest friend. “They didn't have what I wanted for dinner tonight. The new waiter suggested something, and I find I really want to try it.”

  He'd been friends with Henley since they were kids, and he rarely frazzled the man. So, Henley's puzzled expression delighted Darwin. He wondered what he’d say when he told him where they were going. Henley opened the back door to the limousine, then closed it after Darwin slid in. He returned to the driver's side and started the car.

  “Okay, where to?”

  “We're going to the mini-putt course on Klein for a corn dog.”

  At that moment, Darwin wished he’d had his phone out to take a picture. He'd frame the shot and hang it in the house so everyone could see Henley looking as though his jaw had unhinged and was now resting atop his polished shoes.

  Yes, Ricky could be an inspiration to me.

  “This is a corn dog?” Darwin asked, biting into the savory breading.

  “Dude, I cannot believe you’ve never had a corn dog,” Henley said through a mouthful of his own. “My mom used to give them to us every Friday along with cheese fries.”

  Darwin snorted. “Yes, well, you know my parents would have gone into meltdown if their son had ever touched something greasy.”

  “And delicious, don’t forget that part.”

  Darwin had to admit, the batter-dipped frankfurter was very tasty. He agreed with Ricky—the corn dogs were a damn sight better than the offered special at Asiago. He reached out and took another french fry, slathered it with ketchup, and popped it into his mouth.

  “How did you never tell me about these things?”

  “Mom told me your parents might have sacked her if she polluted you with our common ways.” Henley shrugged, and he stuffed his mouth full of fries, then grinned, showing off his cheesy smile.

  Darwin wanted to protest, but Henley spoke the truth. His parents took great care of their employees, but staff was never meant to be family or friends. They firmly believed in keeping Darwin away from them unless absolutely necessary. Still, he and Henley had snuck away most nights, hiding out in one of the unused rooms of the mansion.

  He’d shared his secrets with Henley. Henley had listened when Darwin spoke hesitantly about his crush on his tutor. And Henley had been the person with whom Darwin had shared his first kiss. His anxiety during the worst board meeting after taking over the company paled in comparison to the terror of that moment when their lips met. So many thoughts had gone through Darwin’s head in that instant—how cool Henley’s lips were as they brushed against his, how he’d known Henley had sucked on a mint, judging by the flavor, and how he’d wished the kiss had been with the tutor instead of Henley, because there had been no emotion there for either of them.

  “Do you remember our kiss?” Darwin asked, glancing toward his friend.

  Henley rolled his eyes. “You never forget your first kiss. Even if the person you kissed had a serious case of fish lips going on.”

  Darwin gasped and covered his heart with his hand. “I so did not.”

  “You’re such a drama queen.” Henley bit into his corn dog then swallowed hard. “All I can say is I hope you’ve gotten better at it. If you’d kissed lik
e that when you were with Dean— Oh, shit. Dare, I’m sorry.”

  An icy fist gripped Darwin’s heart. God, he missed Dean.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered.

  “No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have said it.”

  Darwin shrugged. “It’s been six years.” Six years, seven months, and twelve days since Darwin had lost the only man he’d ever really loved. He’d watched as Dean had wasted away, becoming thinner, paler. Darwin had known all the money in the world couldn’t save him from the cancer that consumed him.

  “I know. But I also know there hasn’t been anyone since then. Or am I mistaken?”

  “Please. You’d be the first person I’d tell.” He smiled when Henley’s cheeks pinked.

  “I appreciate that.”

  They finished their meal in silence, then Henley threw away the trash, and returned the tray to the stack. “You know,” he started, “we could continue your education on what good food is.”

  Mischief danced in Henley’s eyes, and Darwin couldn’t help but be intrigued.

  “Oh, do tell?”

  “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Darwin chuckled. “Since you have the keys to the limo, I think I’m pretty well stuck until you’re ready.”

  Henley gave his trademark cheeky grin, then headed back into the small restaurant attached to the mini-putts course. When he returned, he carried two very large paper cups with clear plastic domes on them. Inside was a thick concoction, topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. He placed one in front of Darwin, then pulled the lid off his own.

  “You’ll need to take the top off,” Henley explained. “The shakes are way too rich to use a straw.”

  Then Henley tilted it back and began chugging down the frosty beverage. Darwin followed his example, lifting the cup to his lips. The smell of fruit had nothing on the flavors bursting on his tongue. Tart berries and sweet ice cream, plus the richness of the topping, had Darwin moaning.