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

out on a limb and saying no, she’s not thinking about me because she’s too busy running a successful business and I’m simply passing through. If I want to even see her, let alone talk to her, after this trip I’m going to have to put in a lot of effort. I already ditched out on her once so my track record with communication has already proven to be shitty.
While here, my phone feels heavy in my pocket. I pull it out and look at the black screen. If I turn it on, I could end up sitting here for hours returning messages. If I don’t, I can’t look on social media for any information on Maddy—not that I should use the internet to find out more about her. I have a feeling if I ask her anything, she’ll give me the answers. Still, I’m curious.
Once my phone is on, I wait as my messages load, each one giving me anxiety. I’m about to clear the screen away when my phone rings. I groan at the name but press the button to answer and bring the device to my ear.
“What part of I’m off the grid wasn’t clear?”
She laughs. “I believe you should answer the phone like this: hello, my dutiful assistant what can I do for you today?”
I sigh. She’s right. “I’m sorry, Brenda. What can I do for you today . . .You know since I’m your boss and all?”
“That’s more like it. How’s Chicago?”
“It’s good,” I pause and look out over the boardwalk. “Actually, I really missed it here.”
“And the woman?”
“Her name is Madeline and she’s doing very well for herself.”
“Don’t get attached. You’re there for work.”
I sigh again. “Right, don’t remind me. Is my itinerary in my email?”
“Of course, I am rather efficient at my job you know.”
“Yes, I know.” She is. I’ve never had to ask her twice for anything. Except, not to call me. “Anyway, back to being off the grid.”
“Eh, I don’t count.”
“No, I suppose you don’t, but I’m going to keep my phone off. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
Brenda sighs and then laughs. “You know that’s not possible. You’re there to do a job and I have yet to see the report I’m waiting for.”
“I sent one in last night.”
“Not the one you agreed to do.”
“It’s complicated,” I tell her.
“Life’s complicated, Adam.” Brenda tells me goodbye and then hangs up before I can formulate a response. I’m grateful for my assistant, but there are times when I wish she sucked at her job because then mine would be easier.
I arrive at Maddy’s Tavern an hour before we are set to have dinner. I’m anxious to see her, to just spend time with her. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone from my past, but for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about her. Even when I went back to my hotel, after Brenda kindly reminded me that I had work to do while I was here, I couldn’t get Maddy off my mind.
The hostess remembers me from the other night and smiles when I walk in. I tell her I’d like to sit at the bar, and I make my way over. There’s a Cubs game on the TV, but the volume is low, and the subtitles are on. I remind myself that while Maddy has called her restaurant a tavern, it’s not in the traditional sense, which I think makes it all the more appealing.
“What can I get you?” The bartender sets down a coaster with the restaurant’s logo on it.
“I’ll have water,” I tell him. He nods and fills up a glass, setting it in front of me.
“Can I get you anything? Would you like to see the menu?”
“No thanks, I’m meeting someone for dinner in an hour.” The bartender looks at the clock and then back at me, and I nod. “I know, it’s almost closing time. I’m meeting Maddy,” I tell him but then realize I should’ve kept my mouth shut. She probably doesn’t want her employees knowing she has a date.
Wait, is this a date?
Now, I’m second-guessing myself. We are two friends, former lovers, who are having a nice meal together. I watch the bartender, like a hawk, waiting for him to rat me out to Maddy. I fully expect him to go out back and tell her I’m here. I’m not sure how many minutes pass by, but he never leaves the area and works the entire time, cleaning, restocking, and making sure the bar looks perfect.
I’m there for thirty minutes when Maddy walks out. She’s not wearing her chef’s jacket, but a dark purple sweater, which if I’m being honest is slightly see through, and a black skirt that stops at her knees. As quickly as possible, I slide off the bar chair and greet her with a kiss on her cheek. I may also linger there longer than socially acceptable.
“Good evening,” I say to her when I pull away. “You look—”
“Tired, beat up, exhausted?”
“Beautiful.”
Maddy blushes and turns her head slightly in embarrassment, reminding me she had a hard time taking a compliment when we were together. She reaches for my hand and pulls us away from the bar. I follow her to the back corner of the restaurant where there’s a small table, already set for two. It’s then, that I realize, I’d follow this woman anywhere she wanted me to go. This thought causes me to stop abruptly. My hand falls from hers. Maddy turns and looks at me from over her shoulder.
“Is everything okay?”
It takes me a moment, but I finally nod. “Everything is . . . perfect.”
I sidestep and pull out her chair, then sit across from her. I don’t even know why I do this, but I put my forearm on the table and leave my hand there, palm up, in hopes she’ll hold my hand. She sees it and smiles, and then it’s like time stood still or moved slower than a snail’s paces.