Chapter Eight
Darius couldn’t believe Poppy had relented and was walking beside him toward his pride and joy. His renovations had been extensive and costly. He’d been finishing out a work contract and unable to be in town while the work was done. He had hired a contractor and crew to create the design he’d envisioned. With daily video chats, thousands of photos and a few in person visits, the crew had pulled off exactly what he wanted.
“Come on, it’s too cold to linger out here,” Darius unlocked the front door and pulled Poppy inside, almost dancing with excitement. He couldn’t wait to show off. Vain, yes, but he’d worked years to be able to afford to come home and open his dream restaurant. Inside, they were in total darkness, except for some dim emergency lighting and a bright spot coming from the rear near the kitchen.
“Wait here, I’ll run to the back and get the lights.” He wanted to be beside her when she got her first look. “Close your eyes.”
“Seriously?”
“Why not?” He asked. “Make it a game. Like a surprise party. One of those baby gender reveal things.” Shoot. Why had his mind gone to babies? “It’ll be fun.”
“Okay.” She drew the word out into two extra long syllables.
“You’re awesome. Thanks for playing along.” He hurried toward the back. It was a poor design, alarm panel at the front door, and the lights were switched on from the back, near the loading door. If he had realized that before the renos, he would have changed it. He still might because walking through the front door every day before he opened filled him with excitement and hope for the future. “Ready?”
“My eyes are closed,” she called back.
He pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen and greeted his busy kitchen staff. Then, he flipped the front light switches and hurried back to her side. “Open your eyes when I say so. Welcome to Mythos Taverna. You can open your eyes.” He waved extravagantly toward the restaurant. He was proud of the whitewashed walls and the sunny blue decor.
She strode forward, taking in all the changes. Her head pivoted back and forth. Her face lit up as she looked around and gasped. “Oh. It’s very romantic. I love the live plants. How do you keep them alive?”
She didn’t give him a chance to mention that the lights were full spectrum. She just hurried on with her praise. “The changes are huge. Very well done. I adore the way you created alcoves for tables, rather than traditional booths. Very upscale. I like the way the room is a bit of a maze; each area provides additional privacy for the diners.”
She liked it! He’d never admit it, but he’d been worried she might be critical. Silly, really, she’d never denigrate his dream. Nevertheless, it was nice that someone saw his vision as positively as he did.
“Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen and let you meet my staff.” He grasped her hand in his and led her through the swinging doors into the kitchen. Inside, he gave a light, trilling whistle and all action in the kitchen stopped. “Guys, I want you to meet my friend, Poppy. We’re here for lunch, so whip us up something great.”
“Hey, Poppy,” Larry Hicks, his new head chef responded. “Great to see you.” He turned to Darius. “Poppy and I go way back to when she used to work here. Pretty sure most of us know her. She makes the best coffee in town. Right guys?”
Behind him, several assistants raised take-away cups with her bakery logo.
Darius laughed. “I guess I’m going to have to up my coffee game.” He grinned at Poppy. “Don’t suppose you’d want to sell me some of your special blend.”
“Nope.”
Her laugh skittered down his spine, lifting his mood further than it already was. She radiated joy and it was infectious.
“I couldn’t do that,” she continued. “We might be partners in this gingerbread contest, but in the business world, we’re still competitors.” Her grin took the sting out of the words, but they still crashed his mood.
He pasted on a fake smile. “People don’t come here for coffee, we’re not that kind of restaurant. Think about it. You could mix the beans, sell them to me at a profit. My customers would linger over coffee and maybe order a dessert and you’d have extra income from the bean sales.”
She looked thoughtful. Her brows scrunched together and she rubbed the back of her neck. “That is true and if they’ve eaten here, they’re not likely to stop by my place for dessert anyway, so I’m probably not losing business.” She nodded decisively. “Tell you what, I’ll think about it.”
“You wouldn’t have to grind the beans. We have our own grinder. Just mix that special blend for us. Or, design a new blend for us.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and steered her toward the door. “Larry, can you get us lunch? Your decision on what you bring us.”
“Sure thing, boss,” the fifty-something chef replied.
“I love moussaka,” Poppy called out as they left the kitchen. “And Greek salad, lots of Feta.”
“How is he supposed to surprise us if you tell him what you want?” Darius complained lightly. He’d wanted his staff to wow her.
“He already knows what I like from when we worked here together. I didn’t realize he’d come back. I thought he was cooking at the hospital since this place went under.”
“He was. I hired him back. He was grateful to return to his beloved Greek food, and for the chance to have input into the menu. I’ve given him full reign over the daily specials.”
“Isn’t it risky to put your restaurant in the hands of someone else? I don’t think I could ever do that.” She slid into the booth they stopped beside and looked up at him.
“Could be, but I’m not worried. He plans a couple weeks in advance and we adjust our orders accordingly. It’s been great so far. The specials have been popular.” Like Poppy, Darius remembered Larry from his youth. At sixteen, he’d taken more than one date to the restaurant where Larry worked for dinner. It was the go-to place for romance back then. Their hometown had grown, but it hadn’t had a truly romantic evening destination.
