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He looked at the dishes she held out. “Are you the executive chef or the waitress tonight? If you need waitstaff, I can roll up my sleeves and jump in.”
“No, we’re fine. This is a special delivery for a special patron,” Lauren said and gestured over to the table where Gracie Diaz was sitting with a friend. “Come with me.”
Sutton followed her over to where Lauren personally delivered the meals to Gracie and her friend. “Ladies, I have special plates just for this table, as Gracie is one of my first and most outspoken supporters. Bon appétit.”
Gracie lit up at the sight of Lauren and the food in front of her. “This looks amazing. It’s all amazing.” She got up from her seat and wrapped Lauren in a hug. “I don’t even need to taste it to know that you absolutely have to open a restaurant, girl. I need more than just a quick lunch on the go. I need your haute cuisine, too.”
Lauren smiled and rested a hand on Gracie’s shoulder. “Tonight has been a great success, thanks to everyone’s help, especially Sutton’s, but I think a permanent location is still a ways off for me.”
Gracie studied Lauren for a moment and shook her head. “No.”
“No?” Lauren looked confused by her refusal.
“No, I don’t want to wait. What if I offered to invest in your restaurant? As a silent partner, of course. You don’t need any input from me. But I could give you what you need to get started.”
Both Sutton and Lauren shot to attention when they heard Gracie’s offer. He was delighted for Lauren and jealous of Gracie all at once. He wished he could’ve been the one to bankroll Lauren’s dream, but he was happy Gracie had the ability to do it when he couldn’t.
“Are you serious?” Lauren’s hand clutched at her chest as though she were trying to hold her heart in her rib cage.
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t joke about something like that. You’re an incredible chef and I believe in your talents. So much so that I’m willing to risk my own money to make it a reality. I’d honestly been toying with the idea for a while and now that I’ve seen what you could do with a temporary place, I know it’s the right decision. What good is all this money I won, if it’s just sitting in a bank and I can’t help my friends?”
“I don’t know what to say.” Lauren’s eyes were glassy with tears.
“Say that you’re happy to take my money and do something awesome with it. I’ll write you a check tomorrow morning to get things started and if you need more, just ask. I know all you need is enough capital to get this place up and running. And when you’re the success I know you’ll be, you can pay me back and buy me out.”
Lauren’s jaw dropped and she lunged forward to wrap Gracie in another hug. “Thank you so much!”
When she pulled away she turned back to Sutton. He’d never seen her face so full of pure excitement before. It was like Christmas morning for her. She threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her up off the ground in a bear hug.
“We’re opening a restaurant!” he shouted to everyone in the dining room and he was answered with the roar of applause filling the space.
He held Lauren close, brushing away the rogue strand of hair again. “Congratulations, Chef Roberts.”
“Can you believe it?” she said.
“I can. You deserve it. Your whole life is about to change. The whole town is going to know your name before too long.”
The expression on Lauren’s face flickered for a moment and she nodded. “Things will change,” she agreed, with a little less enthusiasm in her voice. Untangling from his arms, she turned back to Gracie. “A bottle of wine on the house!” she said.
“Oh no,” Gracie insisted. “I’m driving tonight. But I’ve heard there’s an amazing dessert on the menu tonight. I’ll gladly accept a free sweet.”
“You bet. I’ll set aside a pumpkin crème brûlée for you. We’re close to running out.”
“It sounds wonderful.”
Lauren nodded. “Enjoy your dinner, ladies,” she said before turning back to the kitchen. “Have you eaten yet, Sutton?”
“No,” he replied as he followed in her wake. “That’s okay, though. You need to focus on your future customers. I just wanted to say hello and get out of your way.”
She wrinkled her nose at him and pushed open the swinging door. “Absolutely not. You’re a customer, too. Come on back and I’ll make you a plate if you’re worried about taking up a table. What do you want?”
He supposed that if he hid in the kitchen, his presence couldn’t cause a stir with customers. And he was hungry. “Anything.” He meant it. He doubted anything she made would be bad.
Lauren smiled. “I need a Wellington on the fly please!”
“Yes, Chef!” Javier yelled from the far side of the kitchen.
“And I need a crème brûlée set aside for table 8.”
