Page 181 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

Julian looks at me. "We're expanding."

"We're negotiating an expansion."

"Maddy."

I look through the glass toward the space next door. My pulse is still running too fast. "We're expanding."

His grin breaks. Mine follows. He gets up and pulls me into a hug. I laugh against his shoulder. "We're insane."

"Probably."

"This is going to be expensive."

"Definitely."

I pull back. "We need the revised lease before we agree to anything else."

"Yes, Chef."

"And a new contractor estimate with the kitchen wall moved."

"Already noted."

He picks up the letter of intent. "I'll call the attorney." I stay at the table. For a moment, I let myself feel it. The thing we worked for. The thing we weren't sure we'd survive long enough to reach. We did. We built something people want more of. There is joy in that. Real joy. I refuse to apologize for it.

My phone is beside my hand. Javier doesn't know yet. I open our messages. His last one is a picture of Atlas asleep beside an overturned bucket.

Excellent employee.

I smile at it again. Then type:

We said yes to the space.

His response comes quickly.

That's good, right?

I swallow.

Yes. It is.

A moment later:

Then I'm happy for you.

Of course he is.

Thank you.

I look at those two words. I could tell him about the build-out. About months. About the fact that Friday suddenly feels less certain than it did yesterday. But I don't know what any of it means yet. Julian calls my name from the office. I put my phone down. "Coming."

The rest of the afternoon disappears quickly. Julian gets the attorney on the phone. The contractor comes through again, and I walk him through the changes I want to the kitchen expansion. We spend an hour measuring, recalculating, and finding three new problems to solve.

By five, I'm back in my chef coat. Then the first dinner tickets start printing. Instinct takes over. By the end of service, my feet hurt. My hair smells like smoke and garlic. I've corrected a sauce, rewritten part of the prep list, settled an argument over table twelve, and stepped into a hundred decisions I used to make without thinking. I'm exhausted. And happy.

I stand alone in the kitchen after everyone leaves. The stainless steel gleams beneath the lights. Tomorrow, I'll meet with the contractor again. Thursday, the attorney. There is so much to do.

My phone buzzes. Javier.