“I do have a question,” I blurted before he walked away. He waited patiently while I found the courage to snoop. “Does Chef Quinn change the menu regularly?”
Shane had no reason to distrust me. Killian was well known enough that industry insiders ate here all the time. I could be another food blogger for all he knew. “Seasonally,” Shane finally admitted.
It was the end of July. Hardly a new season. “Is this the fall or summer menu?”
He didn’t know exactly how to take me. “I’m so sorry. Were you hoping to try something from the last menu? If you’d like I can see if he’ll accommodate you, although I can’t promise anything.”
Oh, God, the last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to myself. “No! No, thank you. It’s just that it’s the middle of summer. How new is the menu?”
One of his eyebrows raised, suspicious. “You’re right. Up until two weeks ago, we served a different menu, but Chef Quinn felt that a change was necessary. We trust he knows best.”
I was like a dog with a bone. “Any particular reason?”
Shane released a short, nervous laugh. “Inspiration.”
“Excuse me?”
“Inspiration,” Shane emphasized. “We were told he was inspired to change it. I’m afraid I don’t know what that means, only that it’s one of his best menus to date. I’m positive you’ll be pleased with it.”
Forcing a relaxed smile, I agreed with him. “I’m positive I will be too.” Even if I would never tell Killian that.
“The wine list.” Shane tapped his finger on a golden, shimmery folder in the middle of the table. “Our sommelier has selected the very best bottles to accompany your meal. Or if you’d prefer, our bartender is a master craftsman with cocktails.” He took a step back and bowed his head. “I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menus. I’ll be back soon.”
Molly leaned forward smiling, “Waterboarding might be more effective.”
I followed Shane, watching as he walked around the restaurant. “But how to get him to meet me in the bathroom?”
She laughed. “You’re ridiculous. Why don’t you just ask him all these questions yourself?”
I met her gaze. “And let all of my detective talents go to waste? It’s like you don’t even know me.”
She pushed the wine list toward me. “At least pick out something good to drink. If I have to endure this amazing dinner while you try to steal all of Killian Quinn’s secrets at least let me get drunk.”
I didn’t argue with her because she had a point. “What do you feel like? Cocktails or wine?”
“What’s cheaper?” she whispered.
Quickly scanning the menu, I whispered back, “Water.”
“Cocktails it is.”
Molly did well for herself, meaning she could pay all her bills and afford her cute downtown apartment and newish car payment. But she didn’t have unlimited amounts of cash sitting around. Or enough to justify tonight’s meal.
Neither did I for that matter.
Just one more reason I loved her—she splurged with me just for the hell of it. Some girls went shopping together. When Molly and I wanted to blow all our savings, we went to five-star restaurants and gallery openings. When we wanted new clothes, we hit our favorite thrift stores and raided each other’s closet.
Shane reappeared to take our drink orders, two variations of the bartender’s signature Moscow Mules, one with pomegranate and the other with elderflower, and I ordered the pork belly and wagyu beef heart kabobs for an appetizer.
He disappeared again, and with another look around, I relaxed into my seat, secure in the feeling that Killian had no idea that I was here. And there was no reason for him to know I was ever here.
Lilou was as charming as I imagined it would be. The white brick looked just as quaint on this side as it did the outside, especially with the dimmed overhead lights and candles set on the tables. The tablescapes were elegant, classy, without being over the top. The linens were pristine. The cutlery was perfectly modern. The atmosphere engaged and whimsical.
I loved it.
It was the kind of restaurant I had dreamed of working in. I imagined what it would look like in the daytime with the lights fully up. The servers would hustle from table to table, setting up for supper service. The phone would ring constantly as last minute diners tried and failed to get reservations. The clatter from the kitchen would fill the restaurant like a theme song, the never-ending background music as Killian prepared for the evening and his army of chefs obeyed his every command.
My heartbeat picked up speed, dancing in my chest, responding to the electricity humming in the air. Killian was probably too arrogant to realize what a gift a kitchen like this was. Entitled and spoiled, he was used to this level of success. But from where I sat on a pile of ashes that used to be dreams, I knew he held a rare and precious thing. For as many restaurants as there were in this city, he had the privilege of running one of the nicest. For as many chefs as there were in this industry, he had the honor of being one of the best.
And still, I couldn’t find it in me to be jealous of him. Maybe at first I had been. But that had been a generic jealousy, born from the bitter taste of my mistakes. Now that I knew him a little better, I realized he deserved this kitchen. He’d earned it.
Even if I hated admitting that.
“What are you thinking?” Molly asked quietly when I’d been silent for several minutes.
I shook my head, curling my shoulders forward and playing with my linen napkin. “Nothing, really. I was just taking it all in.”
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Molly agreed. “Almost too pretty. From everything you’ve said about Killian, it doesn’t seem to be his kind of place.”
Shane arrived with our drinks and first course. “I guess we’ll find out.”
He went over the dishes, explaining the crispy pork belly over grits with basil crème and oyster mushrooms. My mouth started watering as I took in the food, inhaling the savory scents. He pointed to the beef kabobs, explaining the Mediterranean take on them and the tzatziki inspired sauce.
My gaze narrowed on the skewers with laser focus. He wouldn’t.
He didn’t.
Before Shane could walk away, I’d already dragged my finger through the white sauce and tasted it. “That bastard!” I hissed.
“What?” Molly asked, leaning forward with alarm at the same time Shane panicked. “Is something wrong?”
I sucked my finger clean because damn it if he hadn’t made it even better than the one he’d helped me with. “No, nothing. Sorry.” My cheeks turned red with embarrassment. “It’s just so good.”
Shane smiled, appeased by my compliment. “It really is. I could drink that sauce by itself.”
Molly tilted her head curiously, but waited to try anything until Shane had walked away again.
“That’s my sauce,” I told her. “The one he stopped by to improve.”
Her voice dropped, and she immediately plated one of the kabobs to try it. “He stole it?”
I wished. “No, not really,” I admitted. “Mine was good. His is from a different planet of good. But it’s definitely similar to mine.”