Go Time

"This is it," I tell my reflection. "We're going to rock this grand opening!" I wink and send my most confident smile at the small mirror above my bathroom sink. While I'm still feeling an edge of anxiety, I'm mostly excited for tonight.

After years of dreaming, months of planning, and weeks of work, I'm ready. I've checked and re-checked every list I made. Everything is ready.

Moving out of the small, beach-themed bathroom, I pause in front of the full length mirror hanging on the door of my walk-in closet. I look pretty dang good! With a curve-hugging but still modest dress of white lace over a sky-blue slip, my grandma's pearl earrings, and some classy white heels, I look professional and a little sexy. My friend, Kim, managed to tame my wild red frizz into long, luscious ringlets. She also helped with my makeup.

I feel a bit like a teenager getting ready for prom, but at least now I look as prepared as I feel. Tonight is the beginning of (hopefully) my dreams coming true.

I pull up to the cafe just before 4. Everett, Alex, and the rest of the kitchen staff are here getting everything ready to start cooking. The servers arrive shortly after I do. I quickly inspect their uniforms (white dress shirts with our logo on the pocket, gray dress pants, and green aprons), then do one last run-through of the system with them.

Fifteen minutes before the doors are to open, I call all of my staff together. I wrote down a little speech, but I feel weird reading it, so I'll just do my best to remember the gist.

"Thank you all for your hard work in getting ready for tonight," I begin. I smile at the faces that are already becoming dear, though I've known them all less than a month. "It's been quite a journey to get here, but we made it! Hopefully, God willing, tonight will be crazy busy! I'm so proud of all of you. Let's do this!"

They burst into cheers and smiles as we all share high fives and handshakes. Everett surprises me by pulling me into a quick hug when I reach him. As if realizing what he's done, he quickly pushes me away and mutters, "That was great," before shuffling back and allowing someone else to step in.

"Thanks," I say softly to his retreating frame. I greet the waiter who takes his place and continue my rounds. When I get to Alex, she stops me. "It's probably time for us to get busy in the kitchen. She looks over at Everett, standing on the edge of the crowd. He nods.

"Get to the kitchen, people. We've got a grand opening to own."

"Right. And we'd better get ready to let people in. Sounds like we have a line out there," I say to the servers.

Sure enough, when I throw open the front doors, a wave of people surges in. My servers are a little slow at first, but they quickly fall into a rhythm. I wander around, greeting those I know.

Many of our guests are people I sent special invitations to. Bloggers, friends, associates from my time at JWU, and even a few chefs and owners of other restaurants in the area all filter in. I'm gratified to note that everyone seems to be leaving with a smile.

I take a few minutes to eat dinner for myself in the break room. While I enjoy Everett's delicious food and a bowl of my own delicious soup, I pull out my phone. Googling "Lovebird Cafe", I find that we already have positive reviews. I'm not seeing anything negative or concerning, thank goodness.

I'm almost done with my food when a very discomposed Everett stumbles in. "Delilah Lee Jones is here!" he exclaims in a breathless voice.

"Oh!" I jump up, forgetting about the rest of my meal. "I'm so glad she came! I need to go say hi."

As I go to brush past Everett, he stops me with a hand on my arm. "You know her?"

"It's kind of a long story," I answer.

He shakes his head. "You're going to have to tell me sometime then. She said she wanted to meet the chef, so I was going to go. But, well, she's one of my heroes. I kind of hoped you might come with to provide. . ."

"Moral support?"

"Yeah."

I laugh. "Of course. Delilah is a dear! Let's go."

I quickly spot Delilah sitting at a table near the front. A lot of people around her seem to be trying to take pictures without being obvious. Of course, I don't know what I expected. Delilah is a local darling. Everyone knows her as a famous TV food personality. Here in her hometown, she's treated like a heroine.

As Everett and I walk up, she sends us her cheerful smile. Her blond hair is put up tonight in an elaborate twist. She's wearing a red dress that hugs her slim figure. Though she's probably in her late 40s, she could easily pass for a much younger woman. Especially with the mischievous twinkle in her gray eyes.

"Lacy Lou," she says, standing and wrapping me in a hug. "Everything looks fabulous, darlin'."

"Thanks Delilah! I'm so glad you came! This is my head chef, Everett Brodbeck. Everett, Delilah Lee Jones."

Everett sticks out a hand, but Delilah pulls him into a hug as well. "Folks are ravin' about your food, hun," she says as she pulls back. "From what I've seen coming out, I can see why. Looks like Lacy's got herself a real winner."

"Thank you. It's such a plonor. . . I mean, it's such an honor to meet you," Everett says, sounding adorably flustered.

Delilah laughs. "You too, hun."

Everett quickly excuses himself and I join Delilah at her table. She watches Everett go with an impish smile. Once he disappears back into the kitchen, she looks at me.

"Looks like you upgraded, darlin'."

I laugh and try to ignore the pain that comes whenever I think about Jeff. "Everett is a wonderful chef. He's really nice, too. And easy to work with."

"He's real easy on the eyes too, Lacy Lou. 'Course, you already know that. You aren't blind."

"Not blind. But definitely not looking for a relationship right now."

"Don't let yourself mourn that loser too long, darlin'. Men like Everett aren't single forever. He seems like a good man."

"I don't know him well, but he seems like it."

Delilah just looks at me for a moment, then changes the subject to the grand opening. She tells me that she's already heard positive reviews from two bloggers and she plans to add her own positive review.

"It's partly my fault you lost your partner, darlin'. I'm right sorry for causin' such a mess."

I cover her hand with mine. "It wasn't your fault. Obviously our relationship wasn't as strong as I thought it was if that's all it took for Jeff to walk away. Don't blame yourself. Besides, it was probably for the best. At least he left before I was dependent on him for my success. His leaving early gave me time to find a new chef." I sigh. "And you're right. I think I did trade up, at least in chefs. Everett's a much better cook."

She pats my hand. The arrival of her food interrupts our chat and I leave her to enjoy. A few other familiar faces have come in, so I stop to greet them.

Delilah calls me over when she finishes and asks if I can bring Everett back out. "That man deserves some praise," she says. I laugh and head into the kitchen to fetch my chef.

"Everett," I call, pulling his attention away from some meat. "Delilah wants to see you again when you're done with that."

He calls one of the sous chefs over, washes his hands, and follows me out. "She's not upset, is she?" he asks. "Or disappointed? I don't think I could handle it if she doesn't like my food, Lace."

I send him a reassuring smile. "It's not bad news, Everett." His audible sigh of relief almost makes me laugh.

When we reach Delilah's table, she stands and gives Everett another hug. "You did great, hun. This is some of the best food I've had. You're a real talented young man. Lacy better hold on tight, or she'll lose you like that." Delilah snaps to underline her point.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me. I- I really look up to you, Ms. Jones."

"That's Delilah to you, hun. I'm sure I'll see y'all around. I plan to come back and visit again soon. I want to try out more of that fine menu."

With a parting smile and wave, she heads out. Everett looks a little dazed, so I grab his wrist and pull him gently back towards the kitchen.

"She likes my food. She really likes my food," he says.

"She does. And so does everyone else, from the looks of it. I think we did it."

Everett slides his hand into mine and gives it a squeeze before letting go and rejoining the other chefs. As he turns on the water to wash his hands, he looks back at me with a smile. "We did indeed, Boss Lady."