“Hey, come in.”
Ryan held a bag of what looked and smelled like Asian food in one hand and a motorcycle helmet in the other. He placed his helmet on the floor next to the door and moved toward the kitchen.
“Hope you like Thai.” He put the bag on the kitchen table and pulled out the containers.
“I’m not picky. As long as there’s no octopus or lima beans, I’ll eat it.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame.” An impish grin brightened his eyes and drew her gaze to his full lips. “It’s stir-fried octopus with lima beans.”
“Good thing I have leftover pizza in the fridge.” She returned his grin with one of her own. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah, sounds great.”
She grabbed two from the fridge and some plates and silverware. From the smells emanating from the containers, he had not ordered anything resembling octopus and lima beans. She pulled a container toward her. Rice. He opened another, and she leaned over. Pad Thai. Yum. The last container had red curry chicken, and he’d picked up some spring rolls, too.
“This looks delish. I haven’t had Thai in a while.”
They filled their plates, and Ryan lifted his can of beer.
“Cheers.”
They bumped the cans together and ate in silence for a few bites before Elissa said what was on her mind.
“Thanks for coming here. Writing a business plan in a noisy restaurant isn’t exactly conducive to productivity.”
“Uh-huh. Conducive. That’s a big word.”
Dang it. She had a tendency to use big words when nervous. Elissa bit her lip.
He grabbed another spring roll and dipped it into the sweet chili sauce. “I’m kidding. Sorry, growing up in a big family, we tease each other relentlessly. I forget not everyone grows up the same way.”
She grinned in relief. “Yeah, it was mostly the five of us. My grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins all live out of state.”
“You seemed to want to meet somewhere public, so I was a little surprised you invited me over.”
Elissa pressed her lips together. She was naturally cautious but found herself torn when it came to Ryan DeMarco. She wanted to be alone with him so desperately it was better to meet in public. Yet, somehow, they were here, at her apartment, all alone.
“I did, but, I don’t know, you didn’t push.”
“Well, thank you for trusting me. And thank you for offering to help. Iz’s expertise is in restaurants. They’ve gone over my business plan, but I still have a lot of questions.”
“Show me what you got, Mr. DeMarco.”
Ryan pulled a few pages out of his backpack. Handing them to Elissa, he didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he focused his attention on the food in front of him. She read it over.
It wasn’t bad. There were holes, some pretty big ones, but this was a solid draft. She put the last page aside and turned toward Ryan.
“Want another beer?”
He finally met her eyes. “Yes. Thank you.”
Elissa grabbed another beer from the fridge for him, and a half-empty bottle of white she and Jules had opened a couple days ago. She poured herself a glass and carried both drinks over to the table.
“So, what do you think?” Ryan was apparently unable to contain himself any longer. His face was pale in his nervousness, his foot bouncing against the ground, and his fingers tapping an intricate rhythm on her table.
“It’s a solid start,” she said. “The plan lacked specific financial info, which I expected since you asked for my help in that area. The only real weakness I could see at this stage is the market research. I won’t be able to narrow the focus of the money bit until we can at least make some assumptions about your market.”
“I’ve run into some trouble there. Iz can tell you exactly who eats at their family’s restaurants. I can find some general information about who listens to podcasts, but who would listen to an in-depth food history podcast? I don’t know, and I don’t know where to find out, either.”
