But I so didn’t.
And I didn’t know what to do withany of it.
“He’s so into you!” Molly gloatedafter he’d gone.
I wrapped my arms around my waist,annoyed by the lump in my throat. “He’s not. For real. Sorry to burst yourbubble, but I’m right about this, Molls.”
I proved it two hours later whenKillian closedLilouand left with a pretty blonde onthe back of his motorcycle. They’d walked out of the kitchen together, but shewas dressed in tight jeans and sky-high stilettos, obviously not one of hisemployees. He’d given her his helmet, and she’d wrapped her arms around hiswaist. They’d driven off, his engine roaring through the plaza, and not oncehad he looked in my direction.
See? I was right.
Chapter Eleven
“Where is he?”
“Shh!” Iducked down, flattening myself against the table.
Molly giggled and continued to lookback and forth around the restaurant. “Is he going to bring out our food?”
I snorted. “Killian Quinnassociating with commoners? Highly unlikely.”
“Welcome toLilou,ladies.”
I snapped upright and flashed atight smile at the waiter hovering over the table. He wore a serene expressiondespite our suspicious behavior. I caught Molly’s eye from across our smalltable and used every ounce of self-control to keep from laughing.
“My name is Shane, and I’ll beserving you this evening. Have you been toLiloubefore?”
“No,” I mumbled.
Molly sounded significantly more puttogether. “It’s our first time. We’ve heard such great things about the chef.”
Shane beamed, nodding his headtoward the kitchen. “Chef Quinn is truly the best. You won’t be disappointed.”
“We’ll see about that,” I murmuredunder my breath.
Shane gave me a curious look, but itwas brief and replaced with the bland, professional look all the servers sported.“Chef Quinn is introducing a new menu this evening.” His hand swept gracefullytoward a rectangle of creamy cardstock. The cursive letters arched across thesmooth surface, freshly printed. “Please take your time perusing, and I’m happyto answer any questions you might have.”
“I do have a question,” I blurtedbefore he walked away. He waited patiently while I found the courage to snoop.“Does Chef Quinn change the menu regularly?”
Shane had no reason to distrust me.Killian was well known enough that industry insiders ate here all the time. Icould be another food blogger for all he knew. “Seasonally,” Shane finallyadmitted.
It was the end of July. Hardly a newseason. “Is this the fall or summer menu?”
He didn’t know exactly how to takeme. “I’m so sorry. Were you hoping to try something from the last menu? Ifyou’d like I can see if he’ll accommodate you, although I can’t promise anything.”
Oh, God, the last thing I wanted todo was draw attention to myself. “No! No, thank you. It’s just that it’s themiddle of summer. How new is the menu?”
One of his eyebrows raised,suspicious. “You’re right. Up until two weeks ago, we served a different menu,but Chef Quinn felt that a change was necessary. We trust he knows best.”
I was like a dog with a bone. “Anyparticular reason?”
Shane released a short, nervouslaugh. “Inspiration.”
“Excuse me?”
“Inspiration,” Shane emphasized. “Wewere told he was inspired to change it. I’m afraid I don’t know what thatmeans, only that it’s one of his best menus to date. I’m positive you’ll bepleased with it.”
Forcing a relaxed smile, I agreedwith him. “I’m positive I will be too.” Even if I would never tell Killianthat.
