Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“I thought we weren’t doing fancy cocktails.” I despised fancy cocktails. They took too long to make. I liked to keep it simple. Cosmos, negronis, Manhattans. We didn’t need all that fancy crap. Besides, the main draw to the restaurant was the food, which Ayumu took hold of. Mano’s was a Hawaiian-Japanese fusion restaurant that Ayumu and I had been dreaming of creating for over a decade. I was born and raised in Kauai. Ayumu’s family was from Japan but made their way to Chicago before Ayumu was born. When I moved to Chicago at eighteen, Ayumu was my college roommate until he went to culinary school. Since then, we’d been best friends and business partners.
Mano’s was a dream come true concept for us, and I knew Ayumu’s culinary skills would be the main thing that made the restaurant excel. We’d already received glowing reviews from some of the best food critics in town and sold out our opening week with reservations. Our basic drink menu didn’t matter. People were coming for the main course.
Plus, I made a good classic cocktail. One of the things that Ayumu and I, along with our bartending hires, had in common was our ability to make a classic cocktail. If they wanted that fancy crap, they could’ve gone to any other millions of restaurants in Chicago. We kept our drinks simple, but they were good. Sometimes less was more.
“So you don’t want to see the menu?” he urged. “I can get the team trained in them before opening night.”
My brows furrowed. “Did you make a menu?”
“No, but I could!” he exclaimed as if I’d just permitted him to move forward with said drinks. It wasn’t authorized. One thing we decided on when we agreed to open Mano’s together was that I’d handle the bar, and he’d deal with the kitchen. He was allowed to make a fancy food menu.
That was his territory.
The alcohol was mine.
Before I could shoot Ayumu down again, the front door of Mano’s flew open, and my younger brother marched in with his backpack strapped on. He was sporting a massive grin on his face, which was normal. I swore that kid didn’t know what a frown was. It was hard to believe we were related. “Good day, gents! It’s a great day to be famous,” Mano sang.
I cocked an eyebrow at my brother. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“It’s a half day, remember?”
Crap. It was. Work had consumed so much of my time that I forgot Mano told me he had a half day that week.
He plopped down at the bar. “I don’t have to be back until football practice tonight.” He proceeded to snap his fingers at me. “Pour me a strong one.”
“I’m not going to pour you anything other than water,” I replied.
“What’s the point of naming a restaurant after your favorite younger brother if you don’t give him free booze?” He groaned.
“It’s a nice way to mock you. I enjoy mocking you.”
“Hey, Ayumu. I bet you want to fire up the grill and test some of the menu items on me,” Mano said, giving my business partner heart eyes.
“I can whip you up a little something,” Ayumu agreed.
“You’re spoiling him. It would be best if you didn’t spoil him,” I urged.
“Says the man who named a restaurant after him,” Ayumu shot back.
Fair enough.
“I would kill for your loco moco,” Mano said, giving Ayumu his dreamy-packed stare of hope. I couldn’t blame the kid. Ayumu made the best loco moco in all of Illinois. Whenever I ate it, I felt like I was back on the island, breathing in the ocean waves.
Ayumu headed off to the kitchen to make Mano some lunch. Mano tossed off his backpack and dropped it to the floor.
“Maybe instead of dropping the backpack, you should open it and do some homework,” I said.
“I don’t have any work to do. Besides, I’m already a straight-A student. What more do you want from me?”
I wanted him to stay that way. My brother was fifteen years younger than me. We grew up in two completely different worlds, too. In his world, there was money for after-school sports, opportunities for tutors, and a guardian in the home overseeing things.
I didn’t get that same lifestyle. Even though we had the same parents, we didn’t have the same parents. I grew up with a mom and dad who were young and unstable. They were more into drinking and partying than raising me. I spent most of my time alone.
Mano came along when my parents sobered up. They got their lives together and built a very successful photography business. They’d even been featured in National Geographic multiple times for their work and have worked with some of the wealthiest families in the world. To Mano, our parents were saints. He had the childhood I’d always dreamed of having. When I was fifteen, and he was born, I held a lot of resentment toward him. As he grew up, I realized it wasn’t his fault that my youth had harsh realities. Plus, he was the greatest brother. He was always the most gentle, sweet kid growing up.