And Then He Kissed Me. Teresa Southwick

least someone read the company memos, he thought wryly.

      “Okay, so you can memorize.” He pointed at her. “What’s the important part of what you just quoted?”

      She frowned. “Which part?”

      “Clientele. Do you know your customer base?”

      “The area is older. First-time home buyers are moving in. That means primarily young couples, some with children, some without. Most on a budget.”

      “Right. How can you make them want to allocate some of their hard-earned, double-income dollars for a meal out?”

      “Coupons, flyers, discounts. A special kids’ night. Maybe an all-you-can-eat deal on traditionally slower nights.”

      “All good ideas,” he said.

      “But don’t they deviate from the company vision—every restaurant is the same, right down to the menu?”

      “That was my father’s vision. Times have changed. We can, too. Especially if you factor in philosophy.”

      “Let the managers manage?”

      He nodded. His three brothers were also involved in the family business. Joe was CEO in charge of personnel and hiring. “If my brother’s done his job, every restaurant has a dynamite manager, in which case all we have to do is stand back and let him or her do what he or she does best.”

      “So if every location is made up of specific clientele, aspects of the operation could be altered accordingly?”

      “Why not?” he asked. If every employee was like her, his job would be a snap. “Think about it, Abby.”

      “I will.”

      They grinned at each other for several moments. Nick hadn’t felt this exhilarated in a long time and sensed that Abby felt it, too. Excitement flushed her cheeks and sparkled in her eyes. Her full lips turned up, revealing a rare, beautiful smile. He couldn’t remember the last time talking business had been so much fun.

      Then she blinked and her smile faltered. The serious, professional mask was replaced faster than you could say “fettuccine Alfredo.”

      She glanced at her watch. “Wow, look at the time. You’re going to be late.”

      He suddenly had an idea. “Come to dinner with us.”

      Startled, she put a hand to her chest. “Me?”

      He looked around. “I don’t see anyone else here. Of course, you.”

      “I couldn’t.”

      “Sure you could. Madison likes you. You admitted you like her. Give me one good reason why you can’t join us.”

      “Okay. Car pool.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Sarah and her friends got a ride to the movies with April Petersen’s mom and I have to pick them up.”

      He couldn’t help wondering how many other things she’d missed because she’d become a mother at eighteen. He was helping her plan a milestone birthday for Sarah. Had anyone made hers special?

      “What did you do when you turned twenty-one?”

      She looked surprised, then shrugged. “I don’t remember. I suppose the usual—school, took care of Sarah, and work.”

      “That’s against the law.”

      “Huh?” she said.

      “In my family there’s a traditional rite of passage into adulthood that involves going somewhere your ID will be checked. An unforgettable experience.”

      “That’s really nice, but I don’t see—”

      He grinned. “Obviously I owe you a twenty-first birthday.”

      Chapter Two

      Abby blinked away her shock. He felt responsible for her twenty-first birthday? She wanted to ask where that had come from.

      Instead she said, “Aside from the obvious, that it’s now two years after the fact, why would you think you owe me that?”

      “When you hired on, you became part of the Marchetti family. I don’t know where my head was back then.”

      The dark look was back momentarily, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. He so rarely looked angry, she couldn’t help noticing that it had happened twice in one day. What bad memory had brought that expression to his face? Whatever it was, she had the most absurd desire to make it better.

      She pushed the thought away and said, “That’s a no-brainer. Your head was where it always is.” She gave him a wry look. “Buried in business.”

      “Maybe.” One corner of his mouth lifted, replacing his tension with teasing. “The fact is, you became an adult and the occasion was not properly acknowledged.”

      “It was a long time ago. I don’t care—”

      “I do,” he said in his I’m-the-boss voice that suffered no pithy comeback.

      “It’s very nice of you to be concerned, Nick. But it’s over. Even if I wanted you to, there’s no way you can get that back for me.”

      Abby made a conscious effort to wear a blindfold when she looked back on her life. The past held mostly bad memories. But the future was full of possibilities, as soon as it was her turn.

      He glanced at the watch on his wrist and stood up, grabbing his jacket as he did. “I don’t have time to debate this right now. But you will have a birthday celebration.”

      “If it involves pointy hats and spin the bottle, count me out.”

      He laughed and opened the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

      Abby stood in the doorway, watching until his broad back was swallowed up by the darkness. She figured there wasn’t too much danger of kissing games for her. Like all the other guys in her past who had tried to plan something with her, Nick would find out she had responsibilities that pushed her own dreams aside.

      But the thought of something wild and unpredictable was exciting—for the second and a half she allowed herself to fantasize. Then she filed the daydream under “footloose and fancy-free,” to be pulled out at a later, more convenient time.

      Her turn would have to wait.

      

      

      After dinner, Nick drove Madison home, then walked her to her front door. The building was in an exclusive area of town. This sophisticated high-security condo complex was exactly where a well-bred, up-andcoming female attorney should live.

      Sometimes he forgot that Madison Wainright was in such a high-powered profession. She was petite, even smaller than Abby. The black knit dress she wore was a high-collared number that flared at mid-calf and hugged every curve in between. She chose clothes that she thought would make her look taller. From his vantage point she was woefully unsuccessful, since he was looking at the top of her red hair.

      He preferred blue-eyed blondes. Although more important than the color of a woman’s hair was her sense of humor. He recalled Abby’s electronics-department comment about woofers and hooters. His mouth twitched again. She had said that on purpose. When she wasn’t hiding behind her professional face, Abby was fun.

      So was Madison. Usually. Although he had a feeling her sense of humor had taken the night off. It could be she was preoccupied with the case she was working on, but he suspected he’d done something besides pick her up late to put the wrinkle in her briefs.

      At her front door, he stood one step below the porch while she put her key in the lock. The outside light spilled onto the step and sparkled in her green eyes as she glanced hopefully at him. “Would you like to