My head waiter, Lorenzo, returned to the table to take our order.
His goofy smile totally gave away what he was thinking.
He turned to her. “What can I get you, madam?”
Sadie closed her menu. “I think I’m going to try Birdie’s Pasta Bolognese.”
“Birdie will be tickled you chose that.” I smiled.
Lorenzo nodded. “Wonderful choice.” He looked over at me. “And you, Mr. Maxwell?”
God it feels surreal to be ordering in my own restaurant.
“You know what, Lorenzo? I’ll have the same.”
He took the menus and walked away with the same grin on his face. He turned around where Sadie couldn’t see him and gave me a huge thumbs-up. I grinned and shook my head. Maybe bringing Sadie here was a mistake. Everyone was just a little too excited about this.
Sadie looked around. “It’s so beautiful here. You’ve done an amazing job with the decor.”
We had fireplaces in various corners of the restaurant. Exposed brick and dimmed lighting made it a very relaxing atmosphere.
“Amanda had a lot to do with choosing the decor. So I can’t take full credit for it.”
Could you maybe learn not to mention your dead wife every time the opportunity arises?
“Well, she had remarkable taste.”
My eyes wandered the space. “This place was our other baby. Continuing to run it has been challenging but also a blessing. It’s the one thing that truly got me through the toughest times.”
“Work can be good that way for sure.”
“Restaurants are risky endeavors, especially in this city, where good meals are a dime a dozen. There’s just so much competition. You have to really figure out a way to break the mold.”
Sadie’s eyes were filled with wonder. “It’s amazing, really. I think love and passion go a long way. This place thrives because it started out with two people who loved and respected each other, putting their minds together. Couple that with the fact that most of the meals are old-school recipes from your grandmother? This is more than just a restaurant. It’s history and love and spirit all rolled into one. Just sitting here, I can feel it.”
Sadie looked like she was about to cry. She wasn’t just saying all that to blow smoke up my ass. She’d truly meant it. Her passion was definitely remarkable.
“I always feel that, too, here. I’m glad you recognize it.”
After our food arrived, we had an easy and enjoyable lunch. Add wine into the mix and it was probably a good idea that I planned not to get much work done this afternoon after all. We weren’t drunk. Certainly not anywhere near the level we’d been when she’d spent the night. I would call it just . . . slightly buzzed and happy.
After lunch, I placed my hand on the small of her back as we left the table. Initiating even that amount of contact was huge for me. Deciding to do that hadn’t even felt like a struggle. It had felt natural, almost a protective touch to ward off all the prying eyes that were upon us. I was tempted to be alone with her and just remembered something I wanted her to see before we left.
“Come on. I want to show you something,” I said.
Walking her down to the basement, I used my key to unlock the door to our massive wine cellar.
Her mouth went agape. “Wow, this is like heaven.”
“Yeah. Pretty proud of this. It’s not something the patrons even know exists most of the time. Although our VIP guests often come down and choose their wine, but we don’t let just anyone down here.”
“It looks like something I’d imagine in Europe.”
“Well, we actually built it out of stone and brick to mimic cellars found in Europe, so you’re not that off base.”
“It must have been quite the project putting this all together.”
“It was. You have to make sure you have the right shelving for the bottles, and of course it has to be just the right temperature for the wines, to keep them preserved. So we had to put in a high-end temperature regulation system and a backup generator, too.”
“Wow, so much to think about.”
Her eye was on a bottle of cabernet.
“Would you like to pick something to take home?” I asked.
“Oh, no. That’s not necessary.”
“I insist.”
She grinned, then began running her index finger along the bottles as she walked slowly down the cellar wall. I followed her and couldn’t help breathing in her amazing scent. Finally, she turned to me.
“I’ve made my decision,” she said.
Eager to see which bottle she’d selected, I waited for her answer.
Instead of taking one of the bottles off the shelf, she wrapped her hands around my face instead and said, “I pick this one.”
Before I knew it, her lips were on mine, and my tongue had slipped inside her hot mouth. Any other thoughts I might have had evaporated. All I could think about was how good it felt to kiss her again.