“May I take your order, sir?” Chloe asked when he reached the front of the line, blowing a lock of dark hair from her eyes. “Hey, you’re that guy.”
He leaned over the counter. “I am.” He chuckled. “But exactly what guy are you talking about?”
“The one who was here with Maddie the other morning.” She winked at him.
“Guilty,” he said.
The patrons who had been in line in front of him had all been served, and as no one else had entered the café, Nate was now the only one at the counter. Emily closed the register after he paid.
“Nate Barzonni! How are you?”
“Just fine,” he offered.
Emily walked out from around the counter and up to Nate. “I didn’t get a chance to hug you at Easter.”
“Yeah.” He patted his stomach. “I was preoccupied.”
She hugged Nate and then held his arms and scrutinized his face. “I can see the years away did you good. Handsome as ever. No, I take that back. More handsome.”
Chloe, not to be left out, jumped into the conversation again. “So you know Sarah, too?”
“Yes. Maddie, me and Sarah, we all hung around together back in those days.” Nate looked at Emily. “I thought maybe Maddie would be here today. I just finished a surgery and have an hour till my next procedure.”
Emily’s face brightened. “That’s right, you’re at the hospital now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Maddie told us,” Emily informed him. “Oh, but I’m so sorry. She’s in Chicago all day.”
“Chicago?”
“She didn’t tell you? She’s having a meeting with a mergers and acquisitions company for her franchises. George helped set it up for her,” Emily said proudly.
“Franchises.”
“Yeah,” Chloe chirped. “Cupcakes and Coffee Cafés will be everywhere, just like Starbucks.”
Emily shook her head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Chloe. It’s just the first meeting with the investor. We have no idea what the terms of agreement will be. But it’s all so exciting, isn’t it?” Emily asked Nate.
“It is,” he said morosely, but both Emily and Chloe were so excited for Maddie that they didn’t pay attention to his response. “Well, I guess I’ll just call her tomorrow.”
“That would be great,” Chloe said. “I know she’ll be wanting to hear from you.” Chloe nodded so forcefully that Nate was reminded of a bobblehead doll.
“Thanks, Chloe. I’ll do that.”
“You have her cell number, right?” Chloe asked.
“Uh—” he patted his pocket for his phone “—I don’t. Just the number here. I should put it in my contacts.”
“Absolutely,” Chloe said and scribbled the number on a paper napkin. “Here,” she said. “Gosh, I almost forgot. What can I get for you?”
“Can I get a coffee to go? And I’ll try one of those turkey croissant sandwiches over there.”
Emily whispered, “I’ll put it in our new Panini machine with a slice of Gruyère. It’s one of Maddie’s inventions. Fabulous.”
“Okay, I’ll try it.”
Nate paid and waited for Emily to wrap up the hot sandwich in foil, then left the café and got into his car.
Staring at the little house that Maddie had turned into a warm and friendly spot to enjoy coffee, friends and a sweet treat, he marveled at all she had done. He couldn’t be more proud of her if she’d won some major award. She’d had an idea, and she’d believed in her dream long enough and hard enough to make it come true. He considered her to be a genius because she’d made something out of nothing. That was the definition of genius to him. An idea was only ether and energy until someone put faith in it and molded, coddled, loved and forced it into existence.
She was a marvel to him and he hadn’t had enough time yet to tell her.
That was something he intended to rectify—soon.
He pulled the lid off his steaming cappuccino and took a sip. He took another sip. Then he whistled with appreciation. “Darn, that’s good. Really good.”
Nate was a coffee lover, and to his recollection, Maddie’s coffee was the best he’d ever tasted. The drink the other night wasn’t just a fluke. Maddie’s blend was exceptional. Was it possible that Maddie had bested the gourmet restaurants in Chicago and New York he’d visited? Was the milk different? Had she found better beans? What other tricks had she discovered in the years they’d been apart?
He tasted his sandwich and found it was remarkable as well. It was just a simple turkey sandwich, but the meat was better, not the usual commercial sliced meat sold to restaurants. Nate had a sneaky suspicion that Maddie actually baked this turkey herself. The cheese was high quality and the croissant was especially buttery. She’d told him she made all her baked goods in-house, which was why she worked late at night. Maybe she made the croissants and brioches, too.
Nate was hooked. He knew where he’d be getting his lunches now that he was living in Indian Lake.
Digging in his pocket for his keys, he sat back in his seat. If this was such a big meeting in Chicago, why hadn’t she told him about it? Nate felt his earlier exuberance deflate.
He knew why.
She didn’t trust him.
Maddie was still angry with him for leaving her the way he had. She had always impressed him as a person who was loyal. But the flip side of that loyalty was a person who would hold a grudge forever.
Despite the fact that she had kissed him as if she thought he was the last man on earth, the fact remained that Maddie didn’t trust him.
And without trust, there couldn’t be love.
Either way, Nate, old man, you’re done for.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MADDIE SAT IN the back of the Lincoln Town Car as it cruised up North Michigan Avenue toward Spiaggia, the restaurant where she was meeting Alex and the investor. It was after six, and all the lights had come on. The apartment and office buildings glowed as they reflected the setting sun, and Lake Michigan glittered as if the stars had fallen from the sky and were dancing on the surface.
“It’s like a dreamland,” Maddie said to herself, falling back on the soft leather cushions.
“We’re here, miss,” the driver said as they pulled up to the restaurant. The facade was granite, glass and brass, much like most of the buildings along the Magnificent Mile. The driver came around to her side of the car and opened the door. “You just go up the stairs and Spiaggia is on the second floor. You can’t miss it,” he said. “Mr. Perkins is there waiting for you.”
“He is? But I’m still fifteen minutes early.”
“He’s earlier,” the man replied.
Maddie had worn a slim, black linen sheath with long sleeves and a V-neck. A simple cameo on a gold chain hung around her neck. In her ears were pearl studs. Black stockings and black pumps completed the outfit. She carried a vintage silver-mesh evening bag that Mrs. Beabots insisted she borrow.
When Maddie walked up to the reservations desk, she realized that the restaurant was very crowded. The women were beautiful and animated and the men were handsomely dressed, chatting and laughing with each other. There were no children allowed, and Maddie could see why. She knew for a fact she’d never been in one place with so many beautiful, sophisticated people. The restaurant itself was a magnificent orchestration of luxe Italian design executed in tall black marble pillars, glass walls and partitions and gleaming granite.
“I’m meeting my party here. I’m with Mr. Perkins,” Maddie told the hostess.
The tall, auburn-haired hostess smiled. “You must be Miss Strong. Alex is waiting for you at the table. If you’ll just follow me,” she said.
Maddie wondered if Alex came here a great deal.
She was ushered to a linen-covere
d table for four. Alex was talking on his cell phone and had a martini in front of him. As she approached, his face brightened with a wide smile.
“You look good enough to eat with a spoon,” he said, hanging up his phone and shaking her hand.
“I bet you say that to all your clients,” she retorted as he held her chair for her. She wondered if he could smell her perfume. She’d worn Chanel No. 5. Classic, understated and rich. Or so Mrs. Beabots had told her.
“Trust me. None of my clients look like you.” He sat back down and leaned over conspiratorially. “Our investor is on his way up. My advice is, be yourself. And ask for the moon.”
Alex’s cell phone buzzed. He answered it and hung up quickly. “He’s at the podium.”
“That was the hostess? Calling your cell?”
“Yeah.”
“They do that for everybody?” Maddie took a mental note. It was good customer relations. She could use an idea like that somehow.
“No. I tip big,” he said, gazing past her shoulder. “James,” he shouted over the mounting din and walked a few steps away from the table toward Maddie’s investor.
She turned around in her chair so she could get a good look at the man who was to be her investor. James Stapleton wasn’t what she’d expected. He was shorter than she’d imagined. Weren’t all angels supposed to be tall? He was probably only five foot eight, quite portly and, judging by the lines around his eyes and his heavy jowls, definitely over sixty. His grey hair was thinning on top and he looked as if he needed a haircut. His suit was a brown glen plaid, which did nothing for his rotund physique. But his shirt was snow white, crisp and starched, and he wore a striking blue-patterned tie that helped to accentuate his eyes.
“Well, well, Miss Strong. Happy to meet you,” James said, thrusting his large hand at her. She took it and rose as he moved closer. He placed his other hand over hers, gave their hands a sharp shake and then let go as if they were going out onto the gridiron.
“It’s my pleasure,” she answered sweetly, sitting back down.
James sat opposite Maddie at the table. Alex remained in his seat so that he was positioned between the two of them.
“I trust you had a nice trip into the city,” James asked Maddie.
“I did. It was a lovely night and the sunset on the lake was spectacular.”
James smiled and nodded. “Ah. My favorite sight myself. My wife and I have had a little hole-in-the-wall condo downtown for years so that we can enjoy the lake views.”
“Really?” Maddie’s eyes flew open. “I’ve always dreamed, I mean wondered, what it would be like to live in downtown Chicago.”
“Take my word for it, nothing like it in the world,” James said.
Just then, a waiter appeared to take their drink orders. Alex motioned with his open palm to Maddie first.
“Just a white wine for me.”
The waiter looked at her curiously. Then he glanced at Alex, who shook his head. “Bring her a Kir Royale to start and then I’ll take a look at the wine list. James?”
“Do you have Port Ellen?
“Talisker, sir,” the waiter said. “And I believe Mannochmore. There might be some other single-malt scotch, but I’ll have to ask.”
“Don’t bother. Mannochmore.” James nodded. “Neat.”
“Yes, sir.” The waiter left.
Another waiter arrived and brought bread, olive oil, Parmesan cheese and herbs and mixed their dipping sauce for them. Their dinner waiter arrived and without looking at the menu, Alex ordered a smattering of appetizers for the table.
“Maddie,” Alex said as the bar waiter returned with their drinks, “I gave James all your drawings and elevations for the cafés, and we thought, if it was all right with you, we would start there.”
“Sure,” she said sipping the pink cocktail in a frosted champagne flute. It was sweet and tasted like raspberries mixed with the champagne. “This is good,” she whispered to Alex.
“I thought you’d like it.” He winked.
James clasped his hands together. “I thought it best for us to meet so I can tell you what my concept is to see if this is a good fit for us.”
Maddie was reminded once again that her business deal was by no means a sure thing. Her investor wanted to see if they were a good “fit,” and she knew what that meant. She’d be the one capitulating, and as a general rule, Maddie Strong didn’t give in.
However, this wasn’t a family argument or a disagreement with one of her suppliers. This time, there was more at stake. This man was her key to a large bank account and the chance at her dream of living a life in the city just like all these beautiful and very happy people.
“Here’s the main thing. I’ve decided—just recently, by the way, Alex—to go ahead and put the cafés in downtown Chicago.”
Alex’s eyebrows cranked up in surprise, and though Maddie could tell he was trying to quash his reaction, this announcement meant something to him. And Maddie guessed that it wasn’t good for her. Or Alex.
“This is very expensive real estate, James. When we first talked about it, you said you wanted to go to Evanston and Lincoln Park first. Then, if those worked, on to Kenilworth, Deerfield and even Highland Village. We were going to do one downtown café, but much later.”
James smiled broadly. “I like this young woman’s idea, and I think the downtown crowd will go nuts for her cupcakes. My wife tried that cappuccino blend you sent to Alex. She said it was the best she’s ever had. She’s convinced you’re Italian. I told her you weren’t.”
“No...” Maddie said.
James never took a breath. He just kept talking and didn’t let Maddie or Alex interrupt or slow him down. “I think the downtown crowd is more sophisticated by the minute. Check out these women. They never looked like that back in my day. They want the best and they’re getting it. That’s what I want to push. We have really unique sweets—incidentally, I even thought of changing the name to that. I think it’s genius—and a coffee that’s better than anything else on the market. Everyone is waiting for that. You gotta come here, to Spaggia’s, to get good cappuccino, and what do they charge? Six bucks? Eight? These people will pay anything for the best of the best. So, I think Maddie’s idea of the Italian theme is perfect for Chicago. But downtown Chicago.”
Alex shook his head. “I don’t want to slit my own throat here, but James—the build-outs will be murder.”
“I’ve got a guy who’s working up bids for me now. He did my last two restaurants in Naperville. I put together my own numbers on the ad campaign and how much it will cost to launch the cafés. So, I thought, maybe I should just jump in there with the half-dozen cafés off the bat.”
“Six?” Alex reiterated.
“Yeah.” James took a drink of his scotch. “Here’s the thing. The city is coming back slow from the recession. My guess is that all these beautiful people can’t pay for a Spaggia’s even once a month. Okay. So maybe once a month, but that’s all. In the meantime, they want upscale Italian, but they gotta watch their pennies. So, we give them some unique sweets and really great espresso to tide them over. At top price, because we are unique.” He socked Alex’s shoulder playfully. “And, boom, we’re in business. Big-time.”
Alex sipped his martini slowly. “I’m beginning to see your vision.”
James threw back the remainder of his scotch.
Alex picked up the wine list, scanned it, then closed the leather-bound book. Within seconds, as if he had been summoned by radar, the waiter appeared. “Have you chosen a wine for dinner?”
“James, do you like red or white?”
“Red. No Chianti. I’m not big on Italian wines. I guess I should bone up, eh? I doubt they’d have a French wine.”
“Sure they do,” Alex said. “Bring a bottle of Bourquet Gevrey-Chambertin Pinot Noir.”
“The 2005, sir?”
“Yes,” Alex replied.
Maddie didn’t say a word. Because James had come to the meeting with such new ideas, she felt this discussion was out of her league. She didn’t want to do anything to destroy Alex’s hard work. She guessed Alex and Uncle George were right. She’d done her part. Now all they had to do was see eye to eye.
The appetizers arrived, and while Maddie selected several luscious vegetables from the antipasto plate, she kept her ears finely tuned to the conversation.
“Did you see the year-end reports of the suburban coffeehouses I sent you?” Alex asked.
“Dismal. Just deplorable. Several chains are closing their doors.”
Maddie’s eyes flew open. “They are?” No one heard her comment.
James pounded the table with his fist. “That’s what I’m talking about. You gotta see the future. The future is in the city, at least for this concept. Some soccer mom is not going to spring for a five-dollar cupcake for her kid, except for his birthday. But in the city, it’s a different sale. It’s for a woman...” He looked around the room. “Like that one over there. She’s skinny as a rail. No way is she going to stuff her face with junk food or bake a whole cake. She’s going to want something incredible and small. Small indulgences. Oh, yeah. That’s another name I came up with.”
“Not bad. But sounds like one of those chocolate commercials on television,” Alex mused as he finished off his martini and filled his appetizer plate with calamari.
The waiter came with the wine. “May I send your waiter over, sir?”
“Sure. I guess we should order something,” Alex said, winking at Maddie.
They all listened to the specials and placed their orders.
“May I ask a question?” Maddie asked once the waiter had left and the conversation had resumed.
Both men stopped talking and looked at her. She saw panic in Alex’s eyes and curiosity in James’s.
“Sure,” Alex replied. “What is it?”
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