by Judy Kouzel
Leedy turned to walk into the dining room but caught herself. She examined her reflection in the stainless steel doors and ran a hand through her hair, smoothing a tress of long, shiny brown hair that had escaped from the silver hairclip. She freshened her lipstick from the tube of Brandied Ginger she kept in the pocket of her jacket. She smacked her lips together, took one more deep breath, and pushed through the swinging doors.
Terry Foster was sitting at a table in the farthest corner of the restaurant. He was flipping through some papers from inside a battered briefcase that sat on the table in front of him. "Thanks for waiting," she said, feeling suddenly nervous. Could this man really give her a second chance for her restaurant?
He stood up and pulled the chair out for her. She took a seat and he sat down across from her. He smiled broadly and pulled still more papers from the briefcase. "I was in the area," he said. "You were so upset when you left my office yesterday. I thought I would stop by so we could talk about your loan application ... calmly."
"I apologize for the way I behaved," Leedy said. "Believe it or not, I don't normally pout when I don't get my way. It's just that I was so disappointed. I've worked hard to get to this place, Mr. Foster, and I desperately want my loan to be approved. I know that's no excuse, but ..."
"Call me Terry," he said. "And I understand how you feel. Besides, you were mild compared to some of my other clients. But that's why I'm here, Leedy. I think if we put our heads together, we can figure out a way for you to make your restaurant become a reality."
"So the bank is willing to reexamine my application?" she asked.
"I didn't say that," he said. "In fact, to be perfectly honest, you're not ready yet."
"I could be ready."
"Not yet," he said. "You still have some more work to do."
"I could be ready today if your bank would approve my loan."
"It isn't that easy."
"Why not?" she asked. She almost added `Terry,' but she caught herself. Leedy had already started to think of him as `Terry,' not `Mr. Foster,' but she didn't want to say it. It still seemed too personal.
Just then, Brittany appeared at the table carrying a heavy tray laden with food. "Hi," she said, smiling her angelic grin.
"Hi," Terry said, returning the smile with a brilliant one of his own. Brittany placed two piping hot bowls of clam chowder onto the table and began to unload glasses of iced tea.
"How are you two doing today?" she asked.
"Why, just fine. Thank you," he said.
Brittany glanced at Leedy and gave her another diabolical grin. "Isn't Leedy pretty?" she asked Terry, wrinkling her precious pug nose.
"Yes, she is," he said with an equally devilish smile. Brittany set down a large bowl of caesar salad and gave a speechless Leedy another wicked wink before disappearing back into the kitchen.
"Don't mind her," Leedy stammered, making a mental note to pinch Brittany later. "Brittany is getting married next month and the stress of making the wedding plans has left her quite insane. We're hoping it is only temporary."
"I don't mind," Terry said. "She's adorable. Besides, she's only pointing out the obvious. You are attractive." Leedy didn't mention that Brittany had said the same thing about him.
Terry was looking at her, a soft smile playing on his lips. She returned the gaze and was instantly lost in his blue eyes. He leaned closer to her, staring into her face for a lingering moment and she thought ... hoped ... that he might lean across the small table and kiss her.
"Urn . . ." he said suddenly, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry ... where was l?"
"We were discussing my loan application," Leedy said, feeling warm all over.
"Yes," he said. "Your loan application ... Um ... I see that you have some funds already set aside in your savings account."
"I try to put away as much as I can every week. It isn't close to what I need, but. . ."
"It's growing into a tidy sum of money," he noted. "But, you're right, it's just a drop in the bucket. However, it shows that you know how to manage your money and that you're serious about your business."
"Thank you," she said. "I am serious about the business of opening a restaurant."
"Clearly," he said. His eyes lingered on her again, and she again almost fell into the dreaminess of his eyes, but this time she caught herself.
"What does the bank want me to do?" she asked. She hated to wheedle, especially to Terry, but a flicker of hope was sitting across the table from her and she wasn't about to let it pass her by.
"Have you ever taken any classes in accounting?" Terry asked.
"No," she said. "At least not since my junior year of high school."
"Business Management?"
"I'm sure I took a few business classes in college."
"Human Resources?"
"No. But I've been the manager of Mr. Hobo's for the past six months." She ate a spoonful of soup. "I deal with human resources issues every day. I hire people. And fire them when I have to ..."
"But six months isn't a very long time," he said and he too took a spoonful of soup.
"It is in the food industry," Leedy said. "I work fourteen hours a day, Mr. Foster."
"Call me Terry," he reminded her. "This soup is fantastic, by the way. And I'm sure you're a hard worker, Leedy. But there's more to running a restaurant than a willingness to put in long hours."
"I know," she said.
"A restaurant proprietor needs to be an expert not just on the day-to-day operations of providing food to the customers, but also in accounting matters, human resources, food preparation ..."
"I'm a chef, remember?" she reminded him. "As a matter of fact, I made this salad."
"It's delicious," Terry said. "But surely you realize that no one person can do everything. You need to have a plan, Leedy. A well-thought-out strategy that will prove to the bank that your restaurant will be successful."
She said nothing. He was making sense, of course, but nonetheless, Leedy didn't like what he was saying. "Go on," she said.
"I will," Terry said. "First of all, have you thought about the location of your restaurant?"
"Yes, of course."
"You allocated a reasonable amount of money in your budget for the lease, but you were vague about where your restaurant was going to be. That's an important consideration for the bank, don't you think?"
"Yes," Leedy said. "But I need approval from the bank before I can negotiate a lease. No one will talk to me about a lease until I have a firm financial commitment."
"I understand your problem," Terry said. "But the bank needs specific information to determine if your restaurant is a sound venture. Have you thought about buying a place instead of renting? Property values are going up in Madison. It may be a good time to invest in real estate instead of signing a lease. And you wouldn't have to worry about a landlord kicking you out when your contract is up."
"How could I possibly afford to buy a building?" she asked.
"These are the sort of things that the bank considers before it approves a loan," he said.
"I can see your point of view, Mr. Foster, but ..."
"And you didn't allow for nearly enough funds to get you through those first critical months after you open."
"I thought it was sufficient," she said.
"You wouldn't last a month with the small amount of money you requested," he told her.
Leedy set down her fork and cocked her head to one side. "But your bank denied my application, remember?" she said. "What chance would I have of getting a loan approved for even more money?"
"Your application was not denied because you were asking for too much money," he said. "Your application was denied because the bank didn't think your proposal was a safe investment. And we're a bank, not a fairy godmother."
She winced. She knew she was wearing her heart on her sleeve and she did not want to. "This is all good advice," she said. "But the restaurant business is not the same as ... say, opening up an antique shop o
r a gas station. There are health code standards and payroll issues that are unique to food preparation, not to mention the high degree of competition between restaurants and the fickleness of the customers. I've worked in this business for a long time, Mr. Foster, and, believe me, there are a million variables to think of. I've tried to take everything into account and I think I've done a fairly good job of it."
"You have," he said. "But my field of expertise is strictly on the business and finance side of things. That's something that every business needs to consider. And I think I can help you put things in focus."
"Okay," she said. "What do you think I need to do to get my restaurant off the ground?"
"It's funny you should ask," Terry said and held up a yellow pad of paper. She could see that several pages were already filled with small, neat handwriting. "After you left yesterday, I took a second look at your loan application and jotted down a few notes."
Leedy scanned the first page. "I can't do all these things!" she said. "It would take forever."
"You can too do all those things," Terry said. "You can and you will. Because you, Leedy Collins, are the kind of woman who will make her restaurant dream come true. Whatever the costs. It may take years for it to happen, but ..."
"Years?" Her heart sank.
"Years-and the sooner you get started the sooner you will be ready."
Leedy definitely didn't like what he was saying, but she had to admit the items listed on the yellow pad made sense. She nodded and watched him from across the small table. He smiled and, once again, she wished he would lean over the table and kiss her. An inappropriate gesture perhaps, but she wished for it all the same.
"Okay," she said, finally. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to consider your notes. I'm not promising I'll follow through with all of your suggestions. But I'll consider them."
"Good enough," he said and sipped his iced tea.
She flipped through the pages of the legal pad as they silently ate their lunch. Terry watched her with a look in his eye that she couldn't quite identify. Was it admiration? Sympathy? Desire?
Finally he looked at his watch. "Oh, boy," he exclaimed, suddenly jumping up from his chair. "I lost track of the time! I'm in big trouble."
"What's wrong?" Leedy asked.
"I'm late. I promised Deanna I would take her shopping for shoes." By the pained expression on his face, she knew Terry was not thrilled with the idea.
"That sounds like fun," Leedy offered.
"For you maybe," he groaned. "I'm not much of a shopper. Oddly, it seems to be Deanna's favorite pastime. And since I have all the credit cards, she's most insistent that I tag along. Besides, you can never have enough shoes, can you?"
"No," Leedy said, smiling. Deanna was certainly a girl after her own heart. "You really can't have enough shoes."
He stood up, apologizing for leaving so abruptly. She assured him it was quite all right. She was surprised how her feelings for Terry had gone from worry to warmth in a matter of moments. She stood up and shook his hand. "Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Foster," she said formally.
"Thank you," he said. He looked her in the eyes and suddenly took her by both of her shoulders and gently shook her. "And, for the last time, my name is Terry!"
"Terry," she said, grinning.
"See you around," he said.
He made it as far as the coffee station before he turned back and walked toward her. "By the way," he said. "A night class called Small Business Management starts next week at the University. You may want to consider signing up.
Leedy shrugged. "I guess it couldn't hurt."
"Good," he said, turning to go. "I'll see you there. I'm the class instructor."
The classroom was crowded and noisy when Leedy arrived. The room was buzzing with lively conversation from far more students than she had expected would be there. She found an empty desk in the third row, close enough to keep an eye on the attractive instructor, but not too close as to appear overly enthusiastic. She spotted Terry as soon as he arrived in the classroom. He had been blessed with a charisma that allowed him to walk into any room at any time and have everyone's eyes turn to him. He had a way of making his presence known with minimal effort, even in a crowded and noisy classroom. He set his briefcase down on the desk in the front of the room and looked at his watch.
The sight of him took her breath away.
Terry spoke amicably to the pupils hovering about his desk. His blue eyes were alive with enthusiasm, his brown curly hair was tousled in a boyish disarray and he was, at least from Leedy's point-of-view, incredibly handsome. "Rats," she thought to herself. "Why does he have to be so gosh darn good-looking?"
As if he could read her mind, Terry looked up and glanced in her direction. He moved his eyebrows up and down in a greeting and beamed. He was pleased to see her.
"All right everyone," Terry said, standing up and facing the students. "We've a lot of material to cover tonight, so let's get started." The classroom quieted to a murmur of shuffling papers and shifting chairs as everyone settled down and took their seat. "My name is Terry Foster," he continued, flashing his gorgeous smile. "And I'll be your instructor for the next six weeks."
He wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a blue buttondown oxford shirt. Leedy liked how he looked in his casual clothes. Like a college boy, only sexier. She scanned the room. There seemed to be an unusually high ratio of young women in the classroom, most of whom were watching Terry with ardent interest. One woman in particular caught Leedy's eye. She was sitting in the front row, directly in front of Terry's desk. She was attractive, with perfectly coifed blond hair and dark sultry eyes. She wore an expensive brown suede skirt and a plum-colored silk blouse. Leedy wished she had worn something more flattering than the faded blue jeans and navy blue turtleneck she had chosen. Suddenly she felt out of place, as if she had shown up to a ladies' tea party wearing army boots. She watched as the blond woman shook her long shiny hair and fluttered her eyelashes at Terry, all the while smiling at him seductively.
"As I'm sure you all know, this is a class in Small Business Management," he said, returning the blond woman's smile with one of his own. "I've spoken with many of you and I know you're here for different reasons. By way of introduction, I would like to go around the room and have each student introduce him or herself, and tell everyone why you're taking the class." Terry nodded to the woman sitting on the farthest corner of the first row. "Betty?"
"I'm Betty Fulbright," said a soft-spoken woman. "I'm hoping to start up a custom-made quilting business on the internet."
"Joyce Clay," said the woman seated next to her. "And I'm just here to expand my professional horizons."
"A noble ambition," Terry noted. "Next?"
"I'm Krissy Montgomery," cooed the blond woman in front of him. "I'm a financial planner in town and I run my own office. I'm here to learn more about my customers' small business needs so that I can better serve them." Leedy fought the urge to roll her eyes. Krissy Montgomery's voice and manner, like the rest of her, was perfect. Even her name was adorable.
"I'm Brad Mercer," said the man seated at the desk next to Krissy. "I want to get a better handle on my homeimprovement business."
"Charlotte Renner, and I'm opening a day care center."
"Mike Lawrence. I have a small accounting firm in town and I'm here to better serve my customers. Just like Miss Montgomery." The man gave Krissy a meaningful look, which she ignored. It seemed she only had eyes for the instructor.
The students took turns, one by one, introducing themselves and telling why they were taking the class. Leedy was slowly coming to the realization that she was not the only one in the room with a lifelong dream.
"Leedy Collins," she said shyly when it was her turn. "And I want to open a restaurant someday." Krissy Montgomery looked over her shoulder at Leedy through wary eyes. Her mouth turned down tightly for just a brief second; then she looked away.
The woman sitting next to Leedy looked up suddenly and smiled at her
. "I guess it's my turn," she said. "My name is Jo Anne Phillips, and I want to open a restaurant someday too."
Leedy and Jo Anne Phillips examined each other for a long moment. "We'll have to talk," Jo Anne whispered. Leedy nodded in agreement.
The rest of the class sped by. Leedy quickly forgot to worry about the blond in the front row because she was too busy taking notes. Terry led a lively discussion about the planning and implementing of a new business which raised points she had never considered. She wrote down every word with many asterisks and parentheses, noting the many things she wanted to further research later.
It ended all too soon. Before she knew it, the class was over and it was time to go. Leedy was still fervently writing in her notebook when she heard a voice behind her. "Ahem," the voice said, and she looked up to see Terry standing in front of her desk.
"Oh," she said, startled. She had been so lost in her writing she had not noticed that the class was almost empty. Even Jo Anne was gone. "I'm sorry I'm taking so long," she said. "I just wanted to write down an idea I had for the restaurant while it was still fresh in my mind."
"That's okay," he said. "I'm glad to see you found the class so inspirational. May I walk you to your car?"
Her heart skipped a beat at the prospect of Terry walking her anywhere. "Okay," she said. She looked around the room. The other students had all shuffled out of the room and some were lingering in the hallway. For a fleeting second, Leedy thought she spotted the blond-haired woman from the front row-Krissy somebody-lingering just outside the door to the classroom. But by the time Terry had helped her collect her books, the shadow was gone. She pulled on the pumpkin orange sweater her mother had knit for her and they headed out the door.
The night was cool as they walked toward the parking lot. The temperature had dropped, letting everyone know that winter was on the way. Leedy shivered from the sudden chill, yet she delighted in the cool dark sky. The autumn air felt good against her face as she and Terry fell into a relaxed, comfortable pace. It felt so right, so good, to be walking next to him. It felt as comfortable as the soft wool of her sweater and as effortless as the beating of her heart. She could almost imagine slipping her hand inside of his as they walked along.