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 in. Abbey is a senior in high school and one of my hostesses. I look over at her in the corner, wrapping up the silverware. She looks up at me and grins. “Like, every table I walked past there was at least someone talking about it.”
This makes me happy. “Good. I might add it to the main menu if we keep getting this response.” The kitchen door opens and Katy walks in. “How’s it looking out there?” I ask her.
She grabs a carrot and smiles as she takes a bite. “Almost empty. You have a table you haven’t visited yet though. He got seated after your last round.”
Usually, I like to walk through the restaurant and talk to the people. I like being able to interact with them. I hang my apron up and make sure my shirt doesn’t look wrinkled. “I’ll go out there now.”
Before I can get out the door, Katy steps in front of me with a mischievous smile on her face. She takes another bite of her carrot. “Just to warn you, he’s really good looking and by himself. I didn’t see a ring on his finger.”
Rolling my eyes, I look at her as if she’s lost her mind. “Hitting on my customers isn’t professional.”
Katy snickers. “No, but in this case, I’d make an exception. He’s really hot.” Now she’s got me curious.