Chapter 15
As the city buildings pass by, I can’t help but smile. I’ve been working on being less impulsive, but I am happy I kissed her. Again. The thought of another kiss prompts me to bite my lip—hard.
“Dani,” I mutter.
Scrolling through my contacts, I call Chef Kurt, my closest friend.
“G,” he booms. “What’s up?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything,” he says over what sounds like chaos in the background.
“Can I close down your restaurant next week for a private chef’s table experience?”
“Special girl!” Kurt laughs.
“Whatever the average tally is for a night, I’m happy to pay it.”
“The last time we did—” He pauses, knowing I hate talking about my ex. “You know I don’t accept any more money from you. I can never thank you enough for all the investor connects.”
“What day is best next week, then?”
“Thursday. At seven.”
“Thank—”
The line goes dead. Typical. People think real estate and tech bros are bad. But chefs? Mad scientists with God complexes, all of them.