“Noticed, I have.” I pulled my business card out of my shirt pocket and handed it to the manager. “You can tell Elian Whitman that he will receive a glowing review this time.” I smiled as the manager's face turned pale.
“Thank… you, sir,” the manager squeaked out.
Logan laughed all the way home about the manager’s nervous but proud expression.
I smiled over at him. “I imagine Whitman has put the fear of God into everyone that worked there, and as I wasn’t supposed to show up until next week they probably thought they were in the clear.”
The next morning, I received an email from Elian. He explained that the restaurant had undergone a management change since the last review and that they were committed to providing the best service in the district. I was surprised he didn’t mention the fact that my visit was a week early. I supposed that since I’d told the manager it was going to be a good review, he decided to let the slight go without comment. As promised, I wrote my second review. I included a description of the events that had led to a review this quickly after the first and submitted it, along with Elian’s letter.
For the first time since arriving in Fort Lauderdale, my review went viral. We had hundreds of comments on the site. Almost everyone who wrote in confirmed the changes and gave the place five stars. The overall review had improved the restaurant’s rating by a full point, moving it from three to four stars, which is a huge accomplishment for any restaurant.
I searched Google and TripAdvisor, and those reviews had improved as well. More than one person had mentioned the paper or Elian’s letter. For a moment, I was the star of the Lauderdale Press… well, at least until next week’s edition.
A week after the review, another email arrived in my inbox from Elian. “I would like to meet you for coffee one morning if you’re available.”
At first, I considered ignoring the email, but I thought this could be a good time to go over the changes and offer some beneficial feedback to the venue owner. I ran the idea by Kristine, and she agreed it would be fine. So, I wrote Elian back with my availability, along with a couple of my favorite coffee shops in the entertainment district.
Elian
Things were quite emotionally hot after the mediation. My co-owner, who owned significantly less than me, had threatened to sue me six ways to Sunday. But he was an ass, and he seemed to think suing was the solution to everything. I basically told him to do what he needed to do, but neither I nor my family would ever work with him again if he did.
We weren’t what you’d call big money, but we had a name in the restaurant business. It must’ve been enough because the guy agreed to let me to buy him out.
I hated to tell him, but my family would never work with him again anyway. He was a loose cannon, and we’d learned long ago when those go off, it’s best not to be holding any of the ammunition.
Now I needed to deal with that hunk who’d taken us to task over the lousy service. I’ve always liked a strong-willed man. And this guy didn’t give an inch, and damn, if that wasn’t hot as hell.
I wasn’t that shocked that he’d shown up a week early, to be honest, I sort of expected him to. He wasn’t going to give us much leverage regarding his reviews. It appeared that when this guy put his name on something, it was with integrity. And dammit, if that was another major turn-on for me.
After the review, I wanted to celebrate and damned if I didn’t want to celebrate with him. Sure, it’s possible he was straight, but if the way he looked at me was any indication, he was bi at the very least. It couldn’t hurt to test the boundaries with him. Besides, it would be fun to muss that perfect facade up a bit.
I sent him an email and did a little happy dance in my chair when I saw his response was yes.
The meeting happened late morning at a little brunch place five blocks away from the restaurant. I intentionally dressed in jeans and a tight-fitting t-shirt. There was no need to come off as a total jerk, even though I must have seemed like that during our first meeting.
Martin met me with a smile, and before he sat down, asked, “You aren’t here to kill me, are you?”
“No, that was last week when I learned you showed up a week early to review us.”
Martin laughed out loud, transforming his serious face into a much younger version of himself. “Surely, you had to suspect I wouldn’t just show up when you were prepared for me.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I assumed you’d be early, but I was hoping you wouldn’t be.”
“You have nothing to worry about. Your team did a fantastic job. I was genuinely impressed. Is that why you wanted to meet?”
I stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if I should be honest or not. If I chose not to be, though, I’d probably lose any hope of going out with the guy. “No, if I’m going to be honest, even under the circumstances of how we met, I wanted to ask you out.”
I must have surprised him because he stared at me for several seconds too long.
“I’m sorry if you’re straight, or if this is inappropriate. But, if you’re interested, maybe now that the review is over—it wouldn’t be inappropriate or awkward.”
I knew I was babbling, but I didn’t seem to be able to stop.
Martin continued to look at me, dumbfounded, until the barista called his name. He smiled at me and said, “Hold that thought.” Then, he got up and walked over to the counter to pick up his latte.
By the time he returned, I’d gotten myself under control and was ready for his rejection, although what he said gave me hope.
He sat across from me, holding his latte. “I kinda think it is against the rules to date restaurant owners.”
Noticing how he hadn’t refused but rather stated it was against some rule, I nodded and smiled. “Well,” I said, realizing my Latin accent had become more pronounced. “I wouldn’t want you to break the rules. Do you plan to review my restaurant again?”
“Not in the foreseeable future,” he admitted.
“Do you plan to review anyone else in the brewery or any other business that could be in competition with mine?”
He thought for a few moments. “Yes, although I’m not sure which ones off the top of my head.”
“Then,” I replied, feeling a little smug, “since you’re not reviewing me, unless you were to tell me when you were reviewing a competitor, I’m unsure where the conflict is.” Thinking quickly, I also added, “And one more question, if I didn’t own the brewery and were just asking you out on a date, would you say yes?” I felt like a teenage boy asking someone out to the prom.
Martin thought for a moment. “I’d probably have said yes, if you weren’t an owner in the area where I’m in charge of reviewing restaurants. However, unless you plan to sell up, I’m sorry but I’ll have to say no.”
I sat dumbfounded for a minute. I was trying to figure out how much I wanted to say. My attorneys would probably scalp me if they knew I was about to admit this. I took another look at the handsome man and decided to throw caution to the wind. “I will tell you something, but you’ll have to write on that napkin next to you, that you will not tell anyone what I’m going to say. God help me, you have to swear you will not write about this in your paper!”
“Agreed,” he said. He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a notepad and pen, and ignoring the proposed napkin wrote, For the next sixty days, I promise not to repeat anything told to me at this table without Elian’s permission.
“Will this work?” he asked, handing it to me.
I read over the note and smiled. “You don’t miss a beat, do you?”
Martin smiled back. “I may be a food critic, but I’m also a reporter. I know how to protect a source, and I also know you need to ensure there are timelines. So, if that works, let’s hear the news.”
I scratched out the timeline he’d written and wrote over it ‘one-hundred and twenty days’ and passed it back for him to sign. When he signed it along with the day’s date, I began.
“I’m
going to sell the brewery,” I said after I folded his promissory note and placed it in my pocket. “In fact, the sale was just about to go through when your review came out. That’s what made my partner so crazy. He was hoping to get you to retract your review with the threat of suing the paper. During the meeting, I saw you and your editor exchange looks, and I immediately realized two things. One, you weren’t going to back down. Two, you were telling the truth. A prolonged legal battle would have ended the sale for good, so that’s why I agreed to have you reassess and to write an apology letter myself.
“I was in Dallas when your review came out, closing a deal on a new restaurant there. It took another week for me to complete the purchase, and then I had to ensure my new staff were willing and able to survive without me. When I knew they were, I headed back to Fort Lauderdale to help Peady clear up the mess created by your painful, yet justified and honest review. That’s why I wasn’t at the initial meetings. Had I been, I’m sure I would have been able to resolve the issue before you had to come to a mediation with us.”
Martin leaned forward showing he might be intrigued by my story. “So, you took the management over from Mr. Peady and instituted the improvements I saw?”
“Yes.” I smiled. “Peady had some financial issues that needed to be resolved quickly. When we left the meeting, I agreed to buy him out, and after some interesting negotiations, the restaurant was all mine, so I stayed to fix it. Luckily, our attorney was present when Peady was throwing his fit outside the room. He was immediately able to put a contract together with the amount of money Peady wanted for the sale.”
“Why is that lucky?” Martin asked.
I grinned at his question, thinking about everything I did after Peady went loco. Then there was the final contract that completely took Peady out from any further control over the business.
“Because after you gave us the glowing review that moved us from three to four stars, I got another offer on the place. This offer was for around fifty percent more than the other buyer had offered.” I paused, smiling from ear to ear. When he didn’t comment, I continued. “Your review hit us like a ton of bricks. But because of it, and because of the changes we made, you actually upped my profits significantly, and I will be increasing my profit without a partner to share the proceeds with. You, sir, are my good luck charm.”
Martin
I was amazed by the conversation. I couldn’t have cared less whether my review benefited Elian financially or not, but I was intrigued by the revelation, nonetheless. Finally, after mulling it over in my mind, I responded. “Elian, I’m very pleased things worked out for you, but until you sell the business, I’m afraid it’s still a no on that date.”
Elian appeared crestfallen. “I was sure the story would woo and convince you to go out with me.” He recomposed himself quickly and continued. “My papa always said that the best things in life require the most effort. When things come to you with no effort, they tend to go as quickly as they came. So, I accept this challenge.”
He picked up my hand and kissed it like you see men do in the old romance movies from the 1950s and ’60s and then grinned at me, and I swear I swooned just a bit at his beautiful expression. “Until the restaurant is sold, I will let you be, but as soon as it is, I’ll be knocking on your door again.” With that, he rose and left the little bistro.
I remained sitting, allowing myself time to finish my latte and pondering the man that had just left. I already knew I was attracted to Latin men. That was just how I was. Elian was not only beautifully put together, but the man had charm, charisma, and clearly a very well-tuned business savvy. It might be fun to date him.
I finished my latte, tossed the cup, and walked out to my car. I called Kristine on my way back to the office, wanting to catch her before she left for an assignment, she’d warned me about. When she answered, I told her how Elian had asked me out, and she screamed into the phone.
“Oh, Martin, he is delicious,” she said.
“Yes, he is, but Kristine, it would not look good for me to go out with a man I just gave a glowing follow-up review to.”
“I agree, I agree,” Kristine said. “And you have my most sincere admiration for your willpower. In fact, I’m glad you have that willpower, so I don’t have to chastise you for doing something I would’ve said yes to the second he asked me out!”
I laughed at her honesty and secretly wished I’d thrown ethics to the wind and kissed the gorgeous man right where he sat. “Oh well,” I said, concluding my conversation with Kristine. “At least I have someone to fantasize about for a few months.”
Elian
I was really attracted to the young food critic, but if he’d just said yes to my invite, I’d probably have had my way with him and lost interest. The fact that he was making me work for it piqued my curiosity.
Did that make me a cliché? Truth be told, I didn’t really care if it did, I was a man who loved men. Being a restauranteur, I had plenty of gay men at my disposal, and I tended to go through them fairly quickly.
There’d been a few invitations since I’d met with the handsome Mr. Williams. I considered going out with them just to relieve the pressure, but for some reason, I couldn’t get that man’s face out of my head.
Instead of chasing the proverbial tail, I decided to put my nose to the grindstone and get the deal on the restaurant done. Besides, the whole sale thing was weeks behind, and I still had the Dallas restaurant to get back to. I needed to get my act together, whether Martin was in the picture or not.
As fate would have it, the buyer was anxious to get his hands on the restaurant. So, when the title company and attorneys both said they were done early, I jumped at the chance to get the deal completed ahead of schedule. We both came in and signed our paperwork, completing the sale two full months earlier than we’d planned.
I sent a large flower arrangement to Martin with a note that read, “The deal is done. The ink is drying, so I hope to get that date we talked about.”
Martin
Although there was no signature, I knew exactly who the flowers were from. Shortly after they arrived, Kristine showed up at my door. “Are they from him?”
“They are, and I’ll give you a scoop. I told him he couldn’t ask me out again until he didn’t own the restaurant.”
Kristine’s eyes grew huge. “Did he sell the restaurant?”
“I’m not at liberty to answer that,” I replied. “But you owe me bigtime, Kristine, if the sale turns into a big story!”
“Yes, I do,” she replied as she got up to scurry out the room, eager to put someone on the story. She stopped just as she got to the door and turned back around. “So, did he ask?”
“Not yet,” I said as I pointed toward the huge flower arrangement. “I don’t think that came with a question, but I have no doubt it’s coming.”
“Oh, I love a love story,” she said. Then, she stopped, and with a serious face, added, “But you know, I’m always going to be jealous you got that hunk of a man. Always, Martin… always!”
I laughed as she disappeared down the walkway toward her office.
It was the next day that I got a call from Elian. He asked if I’d meet him at a little community bar on Las Olas Beach. Elian must have figured out it wasn’t part of the area I did reviews in. This time, I didn’t hesitate. “I’d love to.”
Elian informed me he had to go back to Dallas for a week but that he’d like to meet me before he left. We agreed on a time. Then, when the call ended, I rushed down to Kristine’s office.
Her door was closed, and she was chatting with one of her reporters. She glanced up, and when I winked at her, she grinned and waved back.
When her meeting was over, she knocked on my door and came straight in. “So, did he call?”
“Yep,” I replied.
“And you said yes?” she asked.
“Yep,” I replied again.
“Damn you,” she said, then hugged me. “I don’t know if I’m more happy or jealou
s. Either way, I want all the details after I’m done with this next meeting. We are going out to lunch… you’re buying,” she said as she left my office.
I was planning to try out a new food truck that had been getting good reviews with the online sites, so it had to be a working lunch if she really wanted to go out.
Over the following week, it was difficult to tell who was more excited about the upcoming date, me or Kristine.
I accused her of living vicariously through me, and she hit me on the arm. “Yeah, when you’re a workaholic-overachiever who works twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, you have to get your thrills through other people’s lives. Why do you think I became a reporter?”
“We’re going to have to start fixing you up with hot men, boss,” I replied. I only used the term ‘boss’ when I was being belligerent, or about to do something she wouldn’t approve of.
“Oh no! I need to date as much as I need to be hit by a bus.”
I rolled my eyes in response, dropping the subject, but both of us knew I hadn’t dropped it permanently. Kristine tried to argue the point further, but I just smiled and enjoyed watching how much that wound her up. Finally giving up, she changed the subject to work, clearly hoping to dissuade me from thinking along those lines any longer.
The next week, I drove down to Las Olas Beach, to the destination chosen by Elian. As I drove, I was reminded how little I actually went to the beach. When I first got the job, I thought I’d live at the beach, but instead, I depressingly spent most of my time at the paper, perusing restaurants or nightlife in the entertainment district.
When I arrived at the parking spot Elian texted me was open, I had to give credit to a guy who thought about the little things like setting up a parking spot for his date. Just as I did with the restaurants I was reviewing, I began to mentally calculate points for our time together.
Love By Chance (Chance Series Book 1) Page 3