Her Lifelong Dream (2 page)

"Yes, my restaurant will be a welcome addition in Madison," she whispered, imagining the faceless loan officer
who handed her the check. "Yes, I'm an experienced chef
and an excellent manager. I'm also a master of organization
and ..."

"May I help you?" a woman from behind a big mahogany desk asked. The nameplate on her desk said the
woman's name was `Greta Spencer, Administrative Supervisor.'

"Um ... yes. I'm here to see Ms. Terry Foster."

"Mr. Foster is taking a telephone call at the moment,
Miss ... ?"

"Oh ... sorry. I'm Leedy ... um ... I'm Carolee Collins. I have a nine o'clock appointment."

"Oh yes," the woman said. "Mr. Foster will be right with
you, Ms. Collins. Please have a seat." Leedy sat on a small
sofa near an oversized potted plant. She wished the butter flies would stop fluttering in her increasingly agitated stomach. She picked a piece of lint from her skirt and wondered,
once again, if the navy blue suit she had chosen made her
look professional enough.

"Mr. Foster will see you now," Ms. Spencer said after
what seemed like forever. Leedy glanced at the clock on
the wall and saw it had only been eight minutes.

"Thank you," she said, flashing Ms. Spencer a confident
smile. She took a deep breath and bravely walked into
Terry Foster's office.

Of course, just as she stepped into the room, she heard
the telephone on his desk begin to ring. "Terry Foster," the
man in the charcoal gray suit said, picking up the receiver.
He waved her in, giving her a quick smile. "I'll be with
you in just a moment," he said, covering the mouthpiece
on the telephone.

Leedy looked around the office. It was what she had
imagined a banker's office should look like. Formal and
dignified with the requisite large wooden desk and leatherupholstered chairs. Mighty nice digs these bankers have,
she thought to herself.

"Yes, sir," Terry Foster was saying into the telephone.
"We can handle that transaction for you ... Absolutely. I
don't see any problem on our end of the deal ... I'll have
the paperwork ready for you by the close of business today ..."

She watched him as he spoke. He was younger than what
she expected a banker would be. Probably about the same
age as she was. He was attractive too. And his voice was
nice-deep and smooth as velvet with a slight Southern
twang to it. He had the kind of voice Leedy could almost
imagine whispering in her ear late at night. Sexy and strong.

She blushed as if Terry Foster could read her thoughts.
She didn't ordinarily allow her imagination to run away
from her. But the physical attractiveness and youth of the
loan officer was something she had not bargained for and
she was momentarily caught off-guard. The last thing she
needed today was to appear to be distracted. This was, after
all, a business meeting.

"Perhaps you should come to my office tomorrow morning to talk about it," Terry Foster was saying to the caller.
"I'm certain we can hammer out all the details ... Good.
I'll see you at nine-thirty tomorrow morning.... Absolutely. I'm looking forward to it. Say hello to Barbara and
the girls for me. See you then ... Goodbye." He hung up
the phone and turned his attention to Leedy. "Is it warm in
here?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I don't think so."

"You look a little flushed," he said. "May I offer you
something to drink-coffee or a soft drink or maybe a glass
of cold water?"

"No," she said, feeling her face redden even further. "I'm
fine. Thank you."

"I'm sorry about the phone call. It rings off the hook this
time of day," he said, extending his hand. "You must be
Ms. Collins. As you may have already concluded, I'm
Terry Foster, and I'm the loan officer assigned to your
application."

"Mr. Foster," she said, meeting his handshake.

The instant his hand touched hers, Leedy felt a tremble
go through her body all the way to her toes. His grip was
self-assured and strong, but, at the same time, exciting.
"Please call me Terry," he said, pumping her hand.

"Very well ... Terry," she said, trying to ignore the electricity of his touch. But he was a hard man to ignore. He
was tall, at least six foot two, with a mop of brown hair
that had a boyish curl to it and a warm smile that flashed
perfect white teeth. She instinctively knew he was a runner,
despite the business suit. An avid runner herself, she could
always recognize another runner's physique.

But what she noticed most about Terry Foster were his
eyes. They were the most extraordinary shade of deep blue
she had ever seen. The blue eyes, along with the brown
curls and the dazzling smile made it difficult for her to
remember why she was standing in his office.

Leedy pulled herself together. What was she thinking?
She was not there to look for a ... a ... boyfriend. For
Pete's sake, that was the last thing in the world she wanted
in her life. A man would only sidetrack her from her ultimate goal. She was there to see about getting a bank loan
so she could open her restaurant. And nothing more.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, returning his strong
grip with one of her own. "I'm Leedy Collins."

He smiled again, still shaking her hand. It was turning
into the longest handshake she had ever known, but she
didn't mind. The banker squeezed her hand one last time
before he slowly and reluctantly released it. "Please have
a seat," he said, pointing to a pair of identical black leather
chairs across from his desk.

"Thank you," she said, sitting down. She already missed
the feel of his hand touching hers.

"Leedy ... that's an unusual name," he began. "Your application said your name is Carolee."

"It is," she said. "My mother's name is Edith. My father called me Lil' Edie when I was a child. It eventually
evolved into Leedy. You know-Carolee, Lil' Edie ...
Leedy. Somehow it stuck."

"It is a pretty name-and unique. I like it." His eyes met
hers for a moment and she felt her heart jump.

"Thank you," she said, her cheeks beginning to blush
once more. She tore her eyes away from his and concentrated on the folder that sat on the desk in front of him. "I
... um ... I hope all of my paperwork was in order?"

"Yes," he said, with another radiant smile. "You didn't
miss a single detail in your documentation. You're also
well-informed on the specific requirements necessary when
opening a new restaurant. I can see you know your business, Leedy. I also see that you're an organized thinker."

"Thank you," she said again. She noticed he had called
her by her first name. She liked the way it sounded coming
from his lips. Like something warm and delicious was tickling his tongue. She watched as his mouth moved, but she
was no longer listening to the words he said. His voice was
low and sensual and soothing. She was finding it hard to
concentrate. "I wonder what it would feel like if he were
to kiss me," she thought to herself, and the idea made her
feel strangely warm. "Stop!" she ordered herself, digging
her fingernails into the palms of her hands.

"I asked you here today so we could discuss your loan
application," Terry Foster was saying, pulling her thoughts
back to the business at hand. "Can you tell me why it is
you wish to open a restaurant?"

"Of course," Leedy said, ignoring the soft stirring that
had begun deep inside of her. "It has been my lifelong
dream to open a restaurant of my own, Mr. Foster."

"Terry."

"Terry. I've wanted to run my own restaurant ever since
I was a child. When I was a little girl, I used to make my
parents sit at the dinner table while I took their orders. The
first job I ever had was in a fast-food place. As a matter of
fact, I've never worked for any other kind of business. My
entire career has been with food services. I've been a bus-
girl, dishwasher, hostess, server, cook ..."

"Yes," Terry Foster said. His deep blue eyes scanned her
loan application. "I see you attended the Cornwell Institute."

"Yes. It's in California."

"I'm familiar with Cornwell," he said. "It's a highly respected cooking institute. Very impressive."

"Thank you again."

"But you're not currently working as a chef," he noted.

"That's right."

"I see you're the manager of Mr. Hobo's?"

"Yes," Leedy said. Her mouth was dry and her heart was
pounding. "I'm sure it looks odd on my resume, Mr. Foster,
but I took the job at Mr. Hobo's as a calculated career
move. I wanted to learn the workings of the restaurant business from all perspectives-not just the kitchen and dining
room. I wanted more insight into the management side of
things."

"I see," he said. "Please, call me Terry."

"Terry ... The head chef at Mr. Hobo's is wonderful.
His name is Paul Marcus. I fill in for him from time to
time ... when he's out sick or away on vacation. I love to
cook, obviously. But I wanted to work more on the front
lines."

"I can't argue with your logic, Leedy. And you've been
employed with Mr. Hobo's for how long?"

"It's been six months now," she said. "But I'm a quick
study."

"I'm certain of that," Terry Foster said, giving her another one of his winning smiles. "I hear Mr. Hobo's is the
place to go in town these days."

"Yes, it is," she said, nodding. "The food is good, and
it isn't as pricey as some of the other places in town. It's
especially popular with the college students."

"So I've heard." He flipped through the papers on his
desk again. "I haven't been there yet, but I plan on going
soon."

"You should. Everyone likes it there."

He looked up from the application and smiled. "And I
can tell that Mr. Hobo's is a good place for you to learn
the ropes of running a restaurant. But ..."

"But?"

"But six months is not a lot of time to gain much onthe-job experience, is it?"

"No," she said. "But I've been working in restaurants in
one capacity or another since I was fourteen years old, Mr.
Foster."

"Terry."

"Terry," she said. "I know the business inside and out."

He was looking at her paperwork and nodding, but Leedy
had the sudden sinking feeling that maybe she was not there
to learn that her loan was approved after all. "I think it is
important that you understand the concept of the restaurant
I have in mind," she blurted. She was almost too nervous
to speak, but the words came bubbling up out of her. "I
want you to get a clear picture of exactly the kind of restaurant I wish to open. It will not be in competition with
Mr. Hobo's, if that's what you're worried about."

He looked up at her and studied her carefully. "No. I
don't see that as a problem. But I'm listening. Tell me
about the restaurant you have in mind."

"Don't get me wrong," she said, looking him in the eye.
"I like my job ... very much so. Mr. Hobo's is a wonderful
place. It's well run and the food is delicious. But it isn't
the type of restaurant I want to open."

"Oh?"

"No. Not at all. The restaurant I want to open is nothing
like Mr. Hobo's."

Terry looked up again from the folder and fixed his dazzling eyes on her. "Well then, by all means, Leedy. Tell
me all about your plans."

"The restaurant I'm proposing will be distinctive," she
said. "It will be the kind of place that people from all over
Wisconsin will come to."

"Is that so? Tell me more."

"Okay. Picture a New England inn, only more upscale
and fashionable. My restaurant will be decorated in soft,
muted colors with exquisite furnishings. The menu will be
small, but the food will be state-of-the-art gourmet cooking
from recipes I developed myself. It will have an extensive
wine cellar. A restaurant like the one I have in mind would
be more than just a place to eat, Mr. Foster. My restaurant
will be anything but run-of-the-mill. My restaurant will be
the finest eatery in town and an asset to the entire Madison
community."

He raised his eyebrows again and Leedy detected a trace
of amusement in the expression on his handsome face.
"Call me Terry," he said gently.

"Terry," she said, taking a deep breath.

"I confess," the banker said after a long pause. "I had formulated a picture in my mind of your restaurant as I
reviewed your loan application, Leedy, and by the description you just gave me, I realize I was not far off the mark.
I think I have a clear idea of the place you have in mind."

Leedy nodded and smiled. Finally, someone with vision!

He continued. "And obviously, you have a great deal of
... passion for your work. And, personally, I would love
to see a restaurant like the one you describe open up in
town. As a matter of fact, I would probably be the first
person in line on opening day. But ..."

"But?" she echoed, her heart sinking.

"But you have a few problems that need addressing."

"Problems?"

"Yes," he said. "First of all, you want to open an upscale
restaurant ..."

"What's wrong with opening an upscale restaurant?"

"There is nothing wrong with opening an upscale restaurant, per se. Except this is a college town and the average
student is more interested in burgers than gourmet. And
there are several upscale restaurants already, some of which
are struggling."

"I've been to those restaurants," Leedy said. "I know
where their problems lie and I can assure you, Mr. Foster
... er ... Terry, I will not make the same mistakes they've
made."

"There are also some concerns about the human resources information you provided," he added.

"What sort of concerns?"

"You counted yourself as both the manager and the head
chef. How can you do both of those jobs at the same time?"

"As I said before, I know my way around the dining
room as well as the kitchen," she said. "Besides, there will be an assistant chef, a hostess, servers, dishwashers
and..."