Page 43 of The Family Man

“Miss Sage, I have been thinking about you all day. I can’t focus.”

I push away from my desk, “I am sorry Mr. Sullivan.”

“Ah now sugar don’t apologize you are my favorite distraction.”

Butterflies flutter around in my stomach. I haven’t felt butterflies in ages.

“What are you doing for lunch?”

“Nothing.” I said that too quickly. I didn’t care. Please invite me to eat your food. Please lord let him invite me.

“I need a food tester for an hour at The Whole. Would you like to come over?” Here is the thing, his sentence sounds like a double edge sword. He says the word come, and my pussy did that private jump.

I say nothing, he is snipping my synapses, my reaction time is so slow.

“Sage? I asked you a question. Would you like to come?” That was not an invitation for food God dammit. I should flirt back with him.

“Yes, I would like to come over,” I pause, waiting for his reaction, but I get none, “And over again.”

“Fuck. If you step into my building, Sage, everything between us is about to change, beds be damned.” He’s giving me a warning.

“Send me your location, Sullivan. I will see you in a few minutes.” I hang up, not waiting for a response.

I get up and walk into my bathroom. I’m so happy I took my time to look great today. Black leather skirt, blue striped long sleeves all pulled together by my rust-colored boyfriend jacket. I look fabulous. I pass my hand over my slick ponytail; my diamond studs shine in my ear. Yup, I think I can make his jaw drop a little. Just then my phone “ping”

I guess he sent me the location.

ZAC

Icompleted all my interviews today. My sous chef, my pastry chef, and I sit down for a final meeting. I’m launching in two weeks, and I want everything to be perfect.

I will be having two well-known food critics from Délicieuse and Yummo magazines coming to The Whole to give a review. Miss Angela Declare is from the former and Gérard Choquet is from the latter, their reviews can either make or break my restaurant.

As I look at my workers leave, I set up the mini tasting plates in my kitchen on a rolling tray. I think I may have overdone it with the food, but it doesn’t matter.

My phone beeps, she is here. I have a couple of questions to ask her. I walk to the front of my restaurant and unlock the glass doors that are covered in brown paper.

I see her stepping out of her car looking like an elegant Barbie. The butterflies are gone, this is freaking moths.

Her smile is wide, and the leather skirt combo is perfection.

“Hello!”

“Hello, beautiful.” I pull her in through the open door and kiss her lightly on her lips. She doesn’t pull back, she ducks her head and steps out of my embrace.

“This is beautiful, Zac!” She looks around at my accomplishments. She is right.

I lock the doors. “Thanks. The food may be southern, but southern food can be gourmet.”

“It’s more than just gourmet, its comfy too.” She touches my earth toned textured plaster walls, her eyes move from the polished wooden floors to the rustic tables.

“I love how classic your furniture is, but the subtle robin blue just makes it so cozy.” She looks up and points. “Is that a crystal chandelier?”

I had six of them. “Yes, there are six of them. Actually, I got them from an antique shop here in Charleswood.”

She brightens up. “I love that you support local.”

“I sure do. Come this way, madame, this is our table.” I take her to the booth at the back closet to the kitchen.

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