Cocky Chef(44)

"Willow … "

"Fine! He wants to take me to Vegas for a few days to help him with the new restaurant."

Ellie squeals so loud I have to reach over and turn the volume down with flour on my fingers.

"Greg!" she calls off-screen. "Willow's in a relationship with Cole Chambers!"

"I'm not in a relationship!" I plead.

Ellie laughs and looks back at me through the screen.

"Sorry," she says, warmly. "I'm just happy for you. And I just want to see you happy. Not just this Cole thing, but everything else. The job, the Vegas trip. It's great to see you moving on, getting over things not working out in Idaho. You deserve better, and you're capable of so much more. I'm just glad you're finally on the right path."

"Yeah," I say, looking back at her affectionately. "I know."

"And listen, whatever happens with Cole, just enjoy it. Although, I mean … it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you fell madly in love with each other and could invite us down to eat at his restaurants for free … but so long as you're enjoying life then who cares what you call it? You do you."

"Thanks, Ellie."

"Look," she says, suddenly hurried. "I'd better get going to pick the girls up from dance class. Greg's cooking his ragu tonight."

"Does he still use parsnip instead of carrot in it?"

Ellie shrugs lovingly.

"You know Greg-he likes what he likes."

"And that's why we like him."

"Ok, call me when you get back from Vegas."

"I will. Say hello to Greg and the girls for me."

We sign off and I finish baking the cinnamon buns, taking a few hot ones piled high with icing straight to my room, still wearing the big smile my sister always leaves me with. 

I lay back on the bed, my muscles sinking gratifyingly at finally being able to rest, and let the sugar hit of the cinnamon buns send a gentle buzz through my blood. Then the phone rings again.

I tense up, half-expecting it to be Cole again, but instead see that it's Tony. I drop the bun, put the plate aside, wipe my fingers on a napkin and pick up the phone.

"Hey-"

"They said yes," Tony interrupts.

"What?"

"They said yes."

I sit upright in the bed.

"The investors?"

"The investors. They said yes."

I lick my teeth with my tongue, staring into space as I struggle to process the sudden information.

"What … how … we didn't even-"

"They said they loved us!" Tony crows, and I can hear that he's as stunned as I am still. "And that they think we're onto something. The local food thing, the L.A. twist on classic comfort cuisine, the unique approach-they loved all of it. Most of all, though, they believe in the two of us."

"You're sure?"

"I just got off the phone with them right now. Get this: They said they want to do everything they can to get the restaurant up and running in ten months."

"Ten months? That's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible."

"It would take that long just to find a location and lease it."

Tony laughs in amazement.

"Not when one of your investors made his money in real estate."

"Who?"

"Andre. He owns a bunch of locations around L.A. already, and said he could sweep through a lease if we had something in mind. Isn't it incredible? Spud! We're gonna open our own restaurant in less than a year!"

He laughs again, and I get up to pace the room, rubbing my brow.

"Tony, hold on. Did they say anything about the actual budget? Finances? Are we talking a taco stand or a two-story eatery here? I mean, what's the catch?"

"There's no catch," Tony says, sounding a little offended now that I'm bringing down his high. "I told you, these guys have so much money they don't even need to think about it."

"Did they actually show us any money? Apart from some rumor you heard from a bartender, they could be con men."

Tony takes a second to speak again, but I can almost hear his frustration with me in the silence.

"Am I crazy? Or do I get the impression that you aren't absolutely ecstatic with the prospect of having your own place in Los Angeles? Am I an idiot for thinking you'd actually be happy at this news? This is your dream! Our dream. And it's finally coming true!"

"I know," I say, trying hard to sound as enthusiastic as Tony and only making it more obvious I'm not. "I guess it's just … a lot to take in."

"Is this about your last restaurant? That's in the past, Willow. You made some mistakes, yes-but that just means there's less chance you'll make them again. Look, I get that it was demoralizing, and traumatic, and humiliating, and probably left you feeling like you were jilted at the altar, or like-"