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“Me too,” I said. “Though it was time.”

Sal’s eyes went to Will and then back to me. “I understand,” she said, her face capturing everything I’d been feeling. If she was a long-time reader, she knew my whole story. It was always strange when I met a reader in real life and they knew so much more about me, but this time, it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, it felt like maybe I’d done the right thing, both in sharing so much, and shutting it down the way I did, with a love story.

And Nona’s killer meatball recipe.

“Sal’s been wanting to start a blog of her own,” Charles said.

“I could definitely give you some pointers,” I smiled at her.

“Well, let me know if you know any potential restaurateurs, too,” Charles said, handing me a card.

When I turned back around a few minutes later, Will was grinning like a teenager. “Mich, can’t you see it? Bella Eats—the restaurant.”

My heart, soft from hearing about how my blog had touched someone, did a little skip-beat. For the first time, I could see it. Here, in this place, Nona’s recipes come to life for everyone to enjoy.

I thought of the last of the firefighter fund. Had I been saving it for this? It felt… right somehow. And I knew Joe would have approved.

Then the nerves hit. “I don’t know, Will. The thing I keep getting hung up on is how to balance the huge, time-involved endeavor of starting up a restaurant with being around for my kids.”

“Delegate,” Will said. “It’s my secret. People want to help you, Mich.”

My heart warmed once more. He was right. If Will had taught me anything—on top of how to love again—it was that.

“What’s this about a restaurant?” Reese said, setting a plate of still-steaming baguette and freshly churned butter on the table.

My mouth watered as I reached for a piece. “Will’s trying to convince me to start a restaurant. Bella Eats, the live version.”

“It’s about time,” she said, pouring us wine without asking. She knew it was my favorite, and she’d promised to have it ready when I’d made my reservation. “Hell, you can hire me.”

“I thought you weren’t going to work any more restaurant jobs?”

“For you, I’d make an exception. Just while you found your footing.”

“You are the best in the biz,” I said.

I knew she’d still been thinking about that offer at the Rolling Hills. She’d mentioned it, jokingly, a few times. I told her, in no uncertain terms, that she shouldn’t stay here just for me. “That way we could visit the resort where Will and I confessed our feelings anytime we want,” I’d said. The only reason she hadn’t jumped on it was because of Eli, I knew. While it had been a fairytale ending for Will and me, Reese had left her encounter with Eli worse off than when it started. Even if I now knew Eli wasn’t a horrific sociopath, I was still mad at him for what he’d done to her. Even if I did feel a little sorry for the guy and the mess his life was in.

After Reese left with our orders, Charles offered a cheers from the next table. “I’m getting more and more pumped about this place the more I think about it,” he said to me in a conspiratorial whisper. “Sal says your specialty is Italian food—I can’t think of a better cuisine to fit this space. And I’m a helluva landlord.”

“Charles! Leave them alone!” Sal laughed.

After we’d turned back to our own tables, I leaned forward and reached for Will’s thigh under the table.

“You know, seeing you and Charles together is like watching a battle of the silver foxes,” I teased.

“Silver foxes?” Will said, overly loudly.

“Shh!” I said, stifling a laugh.

“Remy told me what those were. You think he’s handsome, don’t you.”

“My god, Will, keep your voice down.”

He frowned. Was he really agitated? Do I give it a rest? Or continue to play with him?

Since when have you not given everything your all?

“Charlesisvery attractive,” I said, as if admitting the fact. Like I’d been admiring the wealthy businessman.