I laugh but there’s no humor to it. “Be lucky you’re not in the restaurant business.”
“Why is that?” He folds up the newspaper and sets it back on the table beside of us.
“Have you ever heard of August Cahill?” I ask.
He stares at me for a second and then shakes his head. “Who is he?”
My heart races just thinking about him, and not in a good way. “The man terrifies me. He’s a food critic that can make or break a restaurant. I’ve read about several places closing down because of his bad reviews.”
Adam snorts. “Seriously? A place shutting down because of one man’s reviews?”
“Yes,” I say with conviction. “And I read he’s in Chicago right now. Not only will he be judging the pulled pork contest, but he plans on visiting some Chicago restaurants.” I rub a hand over my racing heart. “It’s not like he’ll visit my place anyway. I’m a nobody in the food community right now since my restaurant is new, but still. It would kill me if he gave my restaurant a bad review and I lost everything.”
Adam reaches over and laughs as he squeezes my hand. “You have nothing to worry about, Maddy. August Cahill would be an idiot if he didn’t like your food. Don’t worry about him. Judging by the stellar reviews you have already, nothing’s going to take you down. Plus,” he says, giving me that dashing grin of his, “I’ve tasted your food. It’s amazing.”
I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks. “Thanks.”
Catherine comes over with the check and Adam gives her his card before I can even get my wallet out. It’s the same thing he used to do when we were in college. He was always very gentlemanlike. He’s five years older than me, but he always used to tell me his mother raised him right. I haven’t met anyone like him since then.
“Want to take a walk?” Adam asks.
“Sure. It’s a nice morning.” The weather is perfect, and I don’t have to be at the restaurant for another hour or so. Catherine brings Adams card back and hands us a bag to put our boxes of pastries in.
Adam carries the bag of pastries and we head outside. We walk side by side on the walkway that overlooks Lake Michigan. “You know, I really do regret not keeping in touch with you.”
I bump him with my shoulder. “We were young. You got busy and I focused on school.”
He looks down at me and I can see the genuineness on his face. “I thought about you often. Always wondering what you were up to. Looks like you did exactly what you said you were going to do.”
“I have,” I reply, happy with my life choices. I can sense sadness in him though. I picked up on it when we were in the café. “Are you not happy with your job?”
We stop at the railing and he leans over on his elbows. “Yes and no. I thought I was but now I’m having my doubts.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He turns his body to me and shakes his head, his lips pulling back in a sad smile. “It’s not important.” His focus shifts to the ground. “You know what will make me happy though.”
“What?”
His twinkling blue eyes meet mine. “I’d love to have dinner at Maddy’s Tavern again. Think you can squeeze a reservation time in for me? I have no doubt you’re already booked.”
The thought of him wanting to come back makes me giddy with excitement. I shouldn’t feel this way because I know he’s leaving town soon. “I’ll be happy to get you in.”
“What’s on the specials menu tonight? The pork chops were out of this world.”
Gaze narrowed, I cross my arms over my chest. “Please tell me you’re being serious and not just using my restaurant as an excuse to see me again?” It’s a bold question but it leaves my lips before I can even take the words back. As much as I want him to want to eat at my restaurant, a part of me wishes it’s because he really wants to see me again.
He bursts out laughing. “No, I’m dying to eat your food, but it’s a plus that I get to see you in the process.”
“Okay,” I give in. “I believe you.” I already know what the special will be. My stomach growls just thinking about it. “Tonight, the special is a dry-aged ribeye with garlic mashed potatoes and roasted broccoli.”
Adam nods, looking impressed. “Nice. I’ll definitely be eating that. What about dessert?”
I’m in a chocolate mood. “I’m thinking chocolate mousse with fresh raspberries. Does that sound good?”
He steps closer to me. “Sounds delicious. It’ll be even better if you enjoy it with me. I can wait until everyone leaves if that works.”
His invitation is tempting. I don’t know what comes over me, but I have an idea. It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself to get excited over anything besides the restaurant. I like it. I can still be wild and free like I was in college, right? Why can’t I? I’m still young. Being thirty-five and single doesn’t mean I’m an old lady. Might as well live life to the fullest.
“You know what, I think that sounds like a great idea.”
His expression brightens. “So you’ll eat dessert with me?”
I nod. “I’ll do more than that. If you don’t mind coming in later, I’ll even eat dinner with you as well.”
A devilish smirk spreads across his face. “And after dinner and dessert, maybe we can talk some more?”
I want to say yes, but instead I just smile. “We’ll see how everything goes.”
The Taste of Chicago has always been a festival I planned to visit, but alas, timing. This year, I found myself with some extra time and when the invitation to
