But Lindsay was right. This was an incredible opportunity.
He needed to know one thing, though.
“I feel,” he said, “like we’ve spent these last weeks getting to know each other again, and like I told you the other night, I’m all in. You and me, Linds. I love you, I’ve always loved you, but I need to know that we’re not in some kind of awkward, lopsided relationship like before, where we constantly worry we’re about to lose each other. Running a new restaurant is going to be hard enough without worrying that our relationship is precarious.”
Lindsay nodded and squeezed his hand. “I love you, too, Brad. You’re the only person I would ever do something this insane with.”
Brad believed her. The look in her eyes was open and earnest, but more than that, he knew she wouldn’t lie to him.
He leaned across the table and kissed her.
He lingered at her lips for a long moment, slipping his lower lip between both of hers, getting a good taste of her, but he knew they were not alone.
The cat in his lap yelped and jumped off, which surprised Brad enough that he sat back.
“Sorry, buddy,” he said to the cat.
“So?” Lindsay asked.
“All right. Let’s do it.”
“Are you sure?”
He laughed. “No, not at all. But if you’re diving in headfirst, then I’ll dive in with you. We’ll do it together, yeah?”
Lindsay beamed at him. “Yes. Together. Let’s do it.”
Epilogue
The Cat’s Meow, the family restaurant across the street from the Whitman Street Cat Café, had not been an instant success, but in the year since its opening, it had built a steadily growing, reliable base of regular customers.
A bead of sweat slid down the side of Lindsay’s face as she ran a cloth along the edge of a plate to get rid of a wayward drop of sauce. One of the most popular dishes on the menu had been one of her inventions, a boneless fried chicken thigh that she served with creamy mashed potatoes and a bright, acidic arugula salad to cut the richness of the chicken. Brad had helped her with the chicken seasoning, and they’d made their own spice blend that they were thinking about bottling and selling at the restaurant.
Brad was right next to her, torching a banana crème brûlée. He shot her a quick glance as he shut off the torch and garnished the little ramekin of custard with a vanilla wafer and a sprig of mint. They put their plates up on the shelf above them and yelled “Order up!” simultaneously. Brad laughed.
Joey walked into the kitchen. “It’s busy tonight! There are six people waiting in the vestibule up frontandall of the outdoor seating is taken.”
“I know we’re the only ones who care about the anniversary,” said Brad, “but it’s possible I told my friends to come tonight. They’re at table eleven.”
“Table seven is full of my friends,” said Lindsay.
Joey laughed. “Well, you should go out there and tell them to hurry it up so that we can seat all the people waiting up front.” He shook his head. “I’m only kind of kidding.”
“I have a better idea,” said Brad. “Come with me, Linds.”
They walked out of the kitchen. Lindsay spotted her friends at table seven. Lauren and Caleb were there, with toddler Hannah in a high chair between them. Paige and Josh sat there, too; Paige had so much less stress in her life now that their wedding was behind them, and married life had seemed to be pretty good for them. Evan and Pablo were at that table, too, andthatwas a wild story, but Lindsay was just happy her friends were happy. It looked like they’d just been served dessert.
Aaron and Sam and their spouses were seated at table eleven, just as Brad had indicated. They looked to be about halfway through their entrées.
Brad snared a water glass from a busboy and banged a fork against it. All eyes in the restaurant turned toward them.
“Hi, everyone,” Brad said.
Lindsay felt herself shrink in a little. She’d always been more comfortable behind the scenes. She didn’t like that Brad was about to make a spectacle. But she figured if he just wanted to make a speech about how grateful he was that they’d made this restaurant last a whole year, she’d let him. They clearly looked like chefs now in their white coats with the Cat’s Meow logo on them, so she figured everyone would know who they were.
The dining room was indeed packed. Lindsay craned her neck and saw a group of people waiting near the host stand. She’d never anticipated this kind of success, but apparently a creative restaurant welcome to families was exactly what the neighborhood needed.
“My name is Brad Marks, and I’m the executive pastry chef here. This here is Lindsay Somers. She’s the executive chef. The two of us are mostly responsible for the meal you have before you. And tonight marks the one-year anniversary of our grand opening, so we wanted to thank you for dining with us tonight.”
