A Date with a Foodie (The Dating Series Book 7)

popped the question a couple of nights ago. It’s about time too. Katy and I are thirty-five years old. She’s been dying to start a family. I, on the other hand, have only been able to think about my restaurant. I’m happy for her though. One of us needs to have the husband and kids. I’ll be the favorite aunt when she does decide to have some.
“Any plans for the wedding yet?” I ask, meeting her at the bar.
She beams as she sets her purse and newspaper down on the counter. “Of course. We’re thinking this December. I’ve always wanted to have a wintery wedding.”
I laugh. “You’ll definitely get that. I’ll cater for you, if you want.” Then, I wink. “Free of charge.”
Katy shakes her head and sits down in one of the bar stools. “No, absolutely not. You are my maid of honor. I need you by my side the entire time. I can’t have you stressed about getting the food done.”
“Okay,” I say, holding up my hands as I sit down beside her. “The offer still stands.”
She bumps me with her shoulder. “I really appreciate it though.”
“You’re very welcome.”
The front door opens and in walk Noah and Camryn, deep in conversation about something. They both graduated from culinary school with me and we all became close friends. When I bought my building, I reached out to them to see if they’d work for me. They both have different talents in the kitchen. Noah is my sous chef and helps me with all the food while Camryn is my pastry chef. She handles all of the desserts.
“Hey guys!” I shout, waving my hand in the air. “What are you two talking about? And please tell me it’s not the nonsense of how bananas don’t belong in banana pudding or some other crap like that.”
Noah and Camryn are both in their early thirties. In school, they would get into heated discussions about what belongs in food and what doesn’t. I always find their debates comical.
Camryn tilts her head back and laughs. She’s five feet tall but also a firecracker. Noah never stands a chance against her. “No, that was last week’s argument. Actually, we’re not talking about food this time. We’re discussing different dog breeds. I’m thinking of getting one.”
“Oh, that’ll be awesome. Let me know what you decide. I love dogs.” I love them, but I don’t have the time to get one. Hopefully, one day I will.
They walk up to the bar and Noah pulls out his notepad. “Okay, boss, what are we thinking for our special today? Pork chops? We just got a shipment in last night.”
“Yes,” I agree. “And I’ll glaze them with my balsamic vinegar, brown sugar, and Dijon mustard sauce.”
Noah smiles. “Perfect. I’ll do my mashed potatoes and caramelized Brussel sprouts too.”
Camryn holds her stomach. “You’re already making me hungry.” She pulls out her notepad and shows me the sketches of her dessert plans. I love how visual she is. “I want to do a chocolate raspberry torte, an orange creamsicle cake, and a chocolate peanut butter cheesecake.”
“That sounds absolutely amazing. I’m on board with that.”
Her blue eyes twinkle. “Great. I’ll get started.”
She heads to the kitchen along with Noah. Katy shakes her head and laughs. “I never get tired of them.”
“Me either. I love them.” I stretch my arms above my head. “All right, I should probably head back as well. Got lots of work to do.”
Katy grabs my wrist. “Not yet. Have you read this morning’s paper?” Her eyes light up with excitement.
“No, why?” My curiosity peaks.
She flattens out the paper and points at one of the articles. “Check this out. Guess who’s coming to the Taste of Chicago?”
Heart racing, I grab the paper and slide it my way. The second I see August Cahill’s name, I freeze. Every restaurant owner in the country fears him, but yet, also wants him in their restaurants. He’s a food critic who can make or break you. I’ve seen restaurants go under after a scathing review from him. That’s how terrifying he is. But then, the restaurants he’s praised are appearing on TV shows and making bank. Those owners will be set for life.
“What if he comes to our restaurant while he’s here?” Katy asks. “He never uses his real name.”
The thought of him coming into my tavern is exciting and terrifying, but there’s no way he’ll choose to come here over the hundreds of restaurants in Chicago. “I doubt we’ll have to worry about that, Katy. He’s not going to come here. I’m a nobody.”
Katy scoffs. “Seriously, Maddy. You’re not a nobody. We’ve been open for a year and we’re booked every single night. That’s not being a nobody.”
Shrugging, I close the newspaper. “Still, I don’t think he’ll come here. Would it be nice? Of course. But if he hates our food, I can kiss this place goodbye.”
She shakes her head. “Our reviews are phenomenal, and we have over five hundred of them. That’s pretty damn good after just one year.”
“True. If he’s going to be at the Taste of Chicago in a couple of days, we have to believe he’ll be tasting our barbecue. I need to make it epic.”
Katy takes me by the shoulders. “You always do. We’re going to kick everyone’s ass at that event. Just you wait and see.”
We’re going to be up against the best barbecue makers in the city. I know my pulled pork is amazing, but is it the best? We will see.
The night went by without a hitch and it’s because I have the best staff in the world. Everything flowed and we got everyone in by their reservation times. “The special was our number one dish tonight,” I say, taking off my apron. We’re about to close and all the people in the restaurant are either eating their desserts or drinking cups of coffee or wine.
Noah smiles over at me. “Yes, it was.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many people raved about it,” Abbey cuts