Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I still couldn’t believe I’d had the nerve. I wasn’t exactly shy, but I’d never been bold enough with anyone else to talk that way. Dash just did something to me.
Was he ever going to do it in person?
Focus, Ari, I told myself, reaching for the coffee pot. Don’t get lost in dreams right now.
But as if that wasn’t enough, having Hugo Martin eat something I created and say it was a marvel of flavor and texture also had me pinching myself.
When the gentleman sitting alone at the counter told me his name, my knees had trembled. He’d looked a little familiar, but my head was in the clouds, and I figured he was just a local I’d seen before. Once he took off his hat and met my eyes, I recognized him.
Right away I glanced at the two specials I’d brought him, noting they were both only about one-third eaten. I wasn’t sure what that meant—had he liked them? Found them delicious and inspired? Or, like Niall, would he be unimpressed with my efforts and deem them mundane and unsophisticated?
“I hear you’re the creative mind at Moe’s Diner,” he said. He was in his fifties and spoke with a gruff but kindly tone.
“Yes.” My voice came out high-pitched and squeaky, so I took a breath and tried again. “My name is Ari DeLuca.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. DeLuca,” he said with a genuine smile. “I have thoroughly enjoyed everything I’ve eaten here. Classic comfort food with a dash of elegance. Bravo.”
I gasped and put my hands to my cheeks. “Thank you so much! I wish my parents were here. They own the diner, and it’s been in my dad’s family for generations.”
“That’s what I heard. I love a family-run restaurant off the beaten path. Will they be around tomorrow? I’m in town one more day.”
“No. They’re on a cruise for their thirtieth anniversary,” I explained.
“Well, maybe I could do a quick interview with you while I’m here and then get a few quotes from them via email. How does that sound?”
“Great,” I said. “Would you like a little tour of the place? When we’re done, I’ll get you an email address for my mom and dad.”
“Perfect.” He put his hat back on his head and came around the counter. “Lead the way.”
After showing him around the kitchen, we used the office for a quick interview, which he recorded on his phone. We exchanged contact information, and he took a few photos, which made me wish I’d paid more attention to my appearance this morning. I’d been in a complete Dash-induced daze.
When Hugo left, he thanked me again for a wonderful meal and promised to be in touch. I was catching my breath in the kitchen when Gerilyn came in and told me Dashiel and Xander Buckley were seated at table eight. With my heart singing and my feet barely feeling the ground beneath them, I raced out into the restaurant, as excited to see Dash as I was to tell someone about the news.
And the really crazy thing? He seemed just as excited to see me. He jumped out of the booth where he was sitting and scooped me up in his arms. Then he invited me to sit for a minute and tell him and Xander about Hugo Martin. While I was talking, he grabbed my hand beneath the table, and when I got up to leave, he suggested we do something to celebrate my big day.
“Let me take you to dinner,” he said.
My heart thumped hard. “That’s really sweet, but I can’t. I have to be at the pub at five.”
“You can come in a little later,” Xander offered.
“Are you sure? I hate to leave you short-staffed.”
“I’m sure.” He waved a hand. “Go celebrate. Make Dash spend some of his Bulge Bucks on you.”
I laughed. “Thanks, Xander. I’ll be there by seven, I promise.”
“What time are you done here?” Dash asked.
“I should be home by three.”
“I’ll pick you up at four.”
“For dinner?” I laughed. “Are we getting an early bird special?”
“No, but that’s all I’m going to tell you.” Under the table, Dash put a hand on my leg. “I’ll see you later.”
Reluctantly, I slid out of the booth and went back to work, fully aware that this was the most magical day of my life.
And it wasn’t even half over.
“So where are we going?” I asked as Dash backed out of my driveway.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Dash!” I laughed. “What if I’m not dressed right?”
He glanced at my work clothes—black pants and Buckley’s Pub top (worn with push-up bra). “You look perfect in everything.”
My whole body tingled. “Thank you. But you better not be taking me anywhere fancy.”
“I’m wearing jeans and a flannel, Ari. I haven’t trimmed my beard in over a week. We are not going anywhere fancy.”