I’ve never wanted a restaurant in the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. That just isn’t me. I want someplace locals can gather. A place the neighborhood can think of as their own.
“You have any ideas about interior yet?”
I grin and walk over to the far side of the space where a basic kitchen is already set up. “I’ll keep the kitchen over here, obviously, since it’s already built out somewhat. I still can’t believe someone had a place here at one time.”
She nods her agreement as I walk the perimeter of the room. “That was well before my time, but I imagine this neighborhood twenty years ago was a lot different than it is today.”
No doubt.
While it saddens me to think someone tried and failed here, it also makes this start-up a little bit easier and faster.
And looking around, a vision takes shape, crystal clear in my head, almost like I’m looking at it on a movie screen in front of me. “Then, I think I'm going to have about twenty-five tables. Varying sizes, I want to do some long community tables, some round tables so everyone engages in conversation with each other, and then some smaller, more intimate tables.”
“Wow, you've really been thinking about this a lot.”
I grin at her and clutch the keys tightly in my hand. “My entire life.”
Literally.
“I grew up in my grandmother's kitchen and always wanted to share her recipes and what she taught me with the world.” Emotion tightens my chest, and I rub at it absently. “When I graduated from culinary school, I thought it would take me decades to have the money to open my own place, but my grandmother's passing brought me an unexpected small inheritance.”
Barely enough to afford a year’s worth of rent on this place and not nearly enough to open a restaurant. The small personal loan I managed to secure using Grandma’s house as collateral is the only reason I’m holding these keys.
Her death almost broke me emotionally, but it offered me an opportunity for something she always wanted for me. I just have to keep reminding myself of that as I go through the steps of getting this place ready.
Rochelle's eyes soften, and she offers me a sympathetic look. “I'm so sorry about your grandmother.”
I smile at her through the unshed tears blurring my vision. “It's okay. She was ninety-three years old. She lived a good, long life full of happiness and family and friends. It's all anyone can ask for.”
“True.” She glances around the space. “Well, you know under the terms of the lease; you're permitted to make any changes you need to convert this to a functioning restaurant, but the owners don't want any work done on the exterior or any changes to the interior architectural elements.”
“No worries. It's perfect. I'm not going to change anything that I don't have to.”
“Excellent.” She claps her hands. “I'll leave you to it, then. I have another meeting downtown in an hour.”
I glance at my watch. “An hour? Do you have enough time with traffic to get down there?”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “Probably not, but they can wait.”
Not exactly the attitude I would use for clients, but I guess when you work for such a wealthy investment firm that owns properties all over the city, you can kind of do what you want and treat people like they aren’t worth your time.
It's the same thing they do at all the fancy restaurants. Those arrogant chefs who think their shit doesn't stink serve fancy food you can’t even recognize and use ingredients most people can’t even pronounce. Those places are stuffy and cold.
My place will be different. I'll create a community here. Another home where I can make the people of the neighborhood my family and share all the love Grams bestowed on me through her food with them.
Rochelle makes her way toward the door. “Have you figured out what you’re going to name it?”
I shake my head. “Something will come to me eventually.”
“I'm sure it will. Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
She ducks out the door, and I'm left standing alone…but I don't feel alone. Not when I’m finally here. I can almost feel Grandma’s presence with me, guiding me and helping me stay strong when I have no doubt this entire process is going to break me down mentally and physically.
“Thank you so much for helping me get here, Grams.”
Tears trickle down my cheeks, and I reach up to brush them away. She wouldn't want me to cry for her. So, I won’t. I'll just create the best restaurant I can and totally kick ass in her honor.
And there’s one more thing I can do in her honor. Something I should have thought of a long time ago, long before she took her final breath in this world. Something that just feels right and makes my heart swell.
I’m going to call it Grandma’s Kitchen.
Chapter Two
IZZY
What started out as a light drizzle has become a torrential rainstorm. Buckets of water fall from the sky, and my windshield wipers just can't keep up. Even at full speed, I can barely see out of the glass to the street right in front of me.
Shit.
Not exactly the best day to be meeting with the contractor about starting work on the restaurant.
I hope he isn't delayed by this weather.
People drive like idiots when it's like this, and it took me twice as long to get here as it should have this morning. The slow progress would have been even more agonizing if I didn’t have Ashley with me today to keep me company and from getting road-ragey.
Half a block from the building, I start scanning for parking spots. Technically, the area directly in front of the building is a loading zone, but Rochelle said I could park there during the construction to make it easier to get in and out and reserve the area for any unloading of supplies. Which is good because the streets in this area are just as bad as everywhere else in the New York area, with so many cars parked on them that sometimes I can drive around for an hour, trying to find a spot.
A big black SUV turns from the side road in front of me and flies down the street, spraying water off the tires back into my car.
“Shit!” I brake to give myself a little distance from it and because the water completely blinds me.
Ashley huffs. “What a jerk!”
“I know! They could have waited at the stop sign for me to pass before they pulled out.”
I can barely see the building through the driving rain, but at least it looks like I can pull right up front and avoid getting soaked to start my day. Nothing sucks worse than being wet and cold, and if I had to sit in wet clothes all day, I would be fucking miserable.
As soon as I flip on my blinker, the brake lights of the SUV driven by the asshole in front of me flare, and it pulls into the spot directly in front of the building.
“What the hell?”
With a frustrated scream, I slam on my brakes next to the SUV and roll down the passenger window.
Rain pelts Ashley through the open window, and she cringes and shifts as close to me and away from it as she can. “Oh, my God! What are you doing? Close the damn window!”
Not a fucking chance.
The driver's door of the SUV opens, and a dark-haired guy, who I would probably think was fucking gorgeous if I weren't so furious at him, steps out into the rain.