“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head this time, trying to compose myself.
Sliding through the opening, he takes the stool next to me and swivels himself around to face me before turning my own round seat his way. His legs rest on either side of my own, and his hands find my hips, slightly pulling me toward him. His touch is like an electric shock, no matter where or even if clothing is a barrier. A sharp twinge excites me.
“I have something to tell you,” he says.
My stomach twists.
“I bought the diner,” he reveals.
My eyes bulge. “You did?”
The smile that’s glowing in his eyes and flooding his whole face quickly becomes contagious.
“That’s wonderful.” I’m happy that Todd bought it, but at the same time, I fear he should be somewhere more . . . elite.
“I know it’s not CHOPs, or any other restaurant that lines downtown. There won’t be reservations booked for two months in advance, and celebrities won’t be rumored to eat here—yet. But it will be mine. I’ll run it how I want.”
He swivels me around, and I giggle.
“I think it’s great, Todd.”
I lean over and kiss him. My lips linger a little too long on his clean-shaven face. His hands come up and rest on my hips, moving up and down in a soothing motion.
“I’m going to switch some things up, though. I start renovations November sixth. Locally grown, fresh items made daily.” He glances down at the omelet and back to me. “Sorry, I’m not there yet.”
“Hey, this is my favorite omelet made by my favorite person.” I turn my attention back to my plate and fork a bite. “Mmm . . . just as I remember.”
We sit for another hour, and Todd fills me in on his plans and how he’s been talking to Gus for the past few weeks. He was able to get a loan from the bank, but he’ll be doing a lot of the renovations himself.
“I have a question.”
“What?” I feed him a bite of hash browns.
He finishes chewing. “Your grandma gave me the sauce recipe. I talked to her about buying Gus’s in the kitchen that day when Davis came, and she taught me how to make the sauce.”
“Seriously? I don’t even know how to make it yet.”
I’m slightly offended, but I know Todd wouldn’t tell anyone.
“I could cook it for the restaurant, but I’d feel weird doing it. She’s not my grandma.”
“Yes, she gave it to you to use, baby. But you do what you feel is right.”
He cuts a forkful of omelet and places the fork at my lips. “We’ll see. I just wanted to let you know. I felt like I was keeping a secret from you.”
“Thank you.” I stand and hug him in my arms. “I’m one lucky girl to have you.”
“I’m luckier.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Amelia
I throw myself on the couch for a short nap before Tati returns from work. Bette let me go early in order to pretty myself up for tomorrow. Seriously, what is wrong with her?
Todd has to work late tonight, but luckily, Shawn allowed him to have tomorrow night off.
Todd is continuing to work at CHOPs until Davis returns. He can’t afford to have Davis on his bad side. I’m not sure how Davis will feel if he ever finds out that Todd and I are dating, but hopefully, he wouldn’t take it out on Todd. It’s not like Davis has ever called to sweet-talk me.
I’m crossing my fingers that the showcase tomorrow night pays big, especially since I’ll be done with CHOPs in a week and a half. I gave my notice to Shawn. The rumor mill is pouring like lava lately. God only knows what the gossipers are saying about me.
My eyes droop, and I’m a second away from slumber. A key inserts into the lock, and my head falls to the side in defeat.
“Lia!” Tati screams.
“Yes?” I mumble.
An envelope lands on my chest, and my eyes spring open.
A second later, Tati’s butt is on the coffee table in front of my face. “Open it.”
I sit up, and the envelope falls to my lap. Tati picks it up and holds it in front of my face.
A bold black script reads Tracker’s Gallery on the top left. My stomach fills with buckets of butterflies.
“Why would they be sending me anything?”
The ad clearly stated not to turn in an application unless you had the money, which I don’t, so I didn’t.
“Rip it open and see.” Her eyes bulge out of her head, and she bounces in her seat.
I slowly tear the side of the envelope and inhale a deep breath to fill my lungs. “One piece of paper.” Disappointment wraps around me like a mummy.
My fingers tremble as I pull it out and unfold it in my hands. My name and address are printed there, and the first word is, ‘Congratulations’.
Whoa, what?
I silently read the rest to myself while Tati’s feet tap on the hardwood floor of our apartment.
“What? What does it say?”
The letter falls from my hands, and I pull my legs up to my chest. One tear is followed by two streaming down my face.
Tati grabs the letter, and she jumps to her feet. “Congratulations!”
She yanks at my hands and pulls me up. We circle around, jumping up and down.
Tati screams. “You did it!”
“I didn’t.”
We stop, and she locks eyes with me.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t have the money.”
She grabs the letter and points to the line. “It says you’re paid up for two months.”
“I know. I read it. I’m afraid they have me mixed up with someone else.” I plop down on the couch in the same position I was in before Tati pulled me up.
“Well then, let’s see.” She pulls out her phone, and her eyes ping from the sheet to the screen.
“Don’t call them.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” She stands, and all I hear is, “Hello, this is Amelia Fiore.”
The tears build in my eyes. If only it were true and I had earned enough money at CHOPs, rather than dating Davis . . .
I can’t complain too much. Having a relationship with Todd came out of me working at CHOPs, and he’s the best thing to happen in my life in ages.
“No mix-up.” Tati walks back over to me. “She said it’s your account, and you’re paid. You can start displaying on Monday.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
Only Tatiana, Todd and Davis knew I was trying to get a gallery spot.
“Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“Out of the three people, only one could afford the two months.”
“Davis,” we say in unison.
“Have you talked to him since that phone call?”
“No, and I’m not about to. He turned from my dream guy to Patrick Bateman from American Psycho.”
That might be a major exaggeration.
Not to mention, I’m fairly sure Todd wouldn’t be too pleased. I’m still unsure of how the scene will go down when Davis returns.
“Well, you could call him.”
“I can’t accept it.”
“Yeah.”
We sit there and sulk.
“Let’s go.” She nods toward the door.
“Where?”
“We’re going to go primp for your showcase. You might not be able to showcase at Tracker’s, but you have a show tomorrow.”
Tati and I leave the apartment, and I fixate on why Davis would do something so nice. The way it was left between us was far from nice. He hasn’t even attempted to reach out to me.
Is this a grand gesture for me?
* * *
Pop! Tati opens a champagne bottle, and the cork flies in the air. She pours it into two of the three flutes and hands me one. “To my best friend, who deserves everything she’s gotten these past few weeks.”
Our glasses clink.
“Thank you.”
A soft knock sounds at the door, and Tati scrambles. “I’ll get it. Go to your room, and make your entrance.”
“You’re crazy. Let him in.”