Her Lifelong Dream (6 page)

"Sure," Brittany replied. "Are you going out?"

"No," she explained. "The man from the bank is here
and we are going to have a meeting. He's here to talk about
my loan application."

Brittany looked through the portal of the big, swinging
stainless steel doors that led to the dining room. "Since
when does the bank make house calls?" she asked, scanning
the restaurant. "Is that him? The guy in the blue jean shirt
and the khaki's?"

"Yes."

"Hey, he's kind of cute," Brittany said, standing on her
tiptoes to get a better view. "No, wait ... I take that back.
He's not kind of cute, Leedy. This guy is totally hot! Where
did you get him?"

"It's not what you think, Brit," she explained, feeling her
face flush. "Mr. Foster is here to talk about the bank loan."

"I thought they declined it," Brittany said.

"They did, but the loan officer is here to give me some
advice."

"Uh huh."

"He is!"

"I believe you," Brittany said, but the grin on her face
told Leedy otherwise.

"Please, Brit," she said. "This is important to me."

Brittany knew better than anyone how much Leedy
wanted her dream of opening her own restaurant to come
true. She looked at Leedy and realized she was all but
jumping out of her skin. "Okay, okay," Brittany said. "I'll
cover for you. Now, breathe, girl, breathe!"

Leedy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Good
idea," she said.

"Is this good news?" Brittany asked. "Is the bank going
to reconsider your application?"

"I hope so," Leedy said as she turned toward the door.
"Or he's here to tell me to go jump in a lake. Oh ... would you mind bringing us some clam chowder? And something
cold to drink? And anything else that looks good?"

"For a meeting with this guy," Brittany purred. "I would
go for white wine and oysters if I were you," She couldn't
resist teasing her one last time. Brittany gave her friend a
seductive wink and headed back to the kitchen.

Leedy turned to walk into the dining room but caught
herself. She examined her reflection in the stainless steel
doors and ran a hand through her hair, smoothing a tress
of long, shiny brown hair that had escaped from the silver
hairclip. She freshened her lipstick from the tube of Brandied Ginger she kept in the pocket of her jacket. She
smacked her lips together, took one more deep breath, and
pushed through the swinging doors.

Terry Foster was sitting at a table in the farthest corner
of the restaurant. He was flipping through some papers
from inside a battered briefcase that sat on the table in front
of him. "Thanks for waiting," she said, feeling suddenly
nervous. Could this man really give her a second chance
for her restaurant?

He stood up and pulled the chair out for her. She took
a seat and he sat down across from her. He smiled broadly
and pulled still more papers from the briefcase. "I was in
the area," he said. "You were so upset when you left my
office yesterday. I thought I would stop by so we could talk
about your loan application ... calmly."

"I apologize for the way I behaved," Leedy said. "Believe it or not, I don't normally pout when I don't get my
way. It's just that I was so disappointed. I've worked hard
to get to this place, Mr. Foster, and I desperately want my
loan to be approved. I know that's no excuse, but ..."

"Call me Terry," he said. "And I understand how you feel. Besides, you were mild compared to some of my other
clients. But that's why I'm here, Leedy. I think if we put
our heads together, we can figure out a way for you to make
your restaurant become a reality."

"So the bank is willing to reexamine my application?"
she asked.

"I didn't say that," he said. "In fact, to be perfectly honest, you're not ready yet."

"I could be ready."

"Not yet," he said. "You still have some more work to
do."

"I could be ready today if your bank would approve my
loan."

"It isn't that easy."

"Why not?" she asked. She almost added `Terry,' but
she caught herself. Leedy had already started to think of
him as `Terry,' not `Mr. Foster,' but she didn't want to say
it. It still seemed too personal.

Just then, Brittany appeared at the table carrying a heavy
tray laden with food. "Hi," she said, smiling her angelic
grin.

"Hi," Terry said, returning the smile with a brilliant one
of his own. Brittany placed two piping hot bowls of clam
chowder onto the table and began to unload glasses of iced
tea.

"How are you two doing today?" she asked.

"Why, just fine. Thank you," he said.

Brittany glanced at Leedy and gave her another diabolical grin. "Isn't Leedy pretty?" she asked Terry, wrinkling
her precious pug nose.

"Yes, she is," he said with an equally devilish smile.
Brittany set down a large bowl of caesar salad and gave a speechless Leedy another wicked wink before disappearing
back into the kitchen.

"Don't mind her," Leedy stammered, making a mental
note to pinch Brittany later. "Brittany is getting married
next month and the stress of making the wedding plans has
left her quite insane. We're hoping it is only temporary."

"I don't mind," Terry said. "She's adorable. Besides,
she's only pointing out the obvious. You are attractive."
Leedy didn't mention that Brittany had said the same thing
about him.

Terry was looking at her, a soft smile playing on his lips.
She returned the gaze and was instantly lost in his blue
eyes. He leaned closer to her, staring into her face for a
lingering moment and she thought ... hoped ... that he
might lean across the small table and kiss her.

"Urn . . ." he said suddenly, clearing his throat. "I'm
sorry ... where was l?"

"We were discussing my loan application," Leedy said,
feeling warm all over.

"Yes," he said. "Your loan application ... Um ... I see
that you have some funds already set aside in your savings
account."

"I try to put away as much as I can every week. It isn't
close to what I need, but. . ."

"It's growing into a tidy sum of money," he noted. "But,
you're right, it's just a drop in the bucket. However, it
shows that you know how to manage your money and that
you're serious about your business."

"Thank you," she said. "I am serious about the business
of opening a restaurant."

"Clearly," he said. His eyes lingered on her again, and she again almost fell into the dreaminess of his eyes, but
this time she caught herself.

"What does the bank want me to do?" she asked. She
hated to wheedle, especially to Terry, but a flicker of hope
was sitting across the table from her and she wasn't about
to let it pass her by.

"Have you ever taken any classes in accounting?" Terry
asked.

"No," she said. "At least not since my junior year of
high school."

"Business Management?"

"I'm sure I took a few business classes in college."

"Human Resources?"

"No. But I've been the manager of Mr. Hobo's for the
past six months." She ate a spoonful of soup. "I deal with
human resources issues every day. I hire people. And fire
them when I have to ..."

"But six months isn't a very long time," he said and he
too took a spoonful of soup.

"It is in the food industry," Leedy said. "I work fourteen
hours a day, Mr. Foster."

"Call me Terry," he reminded her. "This soup is fantastic, by the way. And I'm sure you're a hard worker, Leedy.
But there's more to running a restaurant than a willingness
to put in long hours."

"I know," she said.

"A restaurant proprietor needs to be an expert not just
on the day-to-day operations of providing food to the customers, but also in accounting matters, human resources,
food preparation ..."

"I'm a chef, remember?" she reminded him. "As a matter
of fact, I made this salad."

"It's delicious," Terry said. "But surely you realize that
no one person can do everything. You need to have a plan,
Leedy. A well-thought-out strategy that will prove to the
bank that your restaurant will be successful."

She said nothing. He was making sense, of course, but
nonetheless, Leedy didn't like what he was saying. "Go
on," she said.

"I will," Terry said. "First of all, have you thought about
the location of your restaurant?"

"Yes, of course."

"You allocated a reasonable amount of money in your
budget for the lease, but you were vague about where your
restaurant was going to be. That's an important consideration for the bank, don't you think?"

"Yes," Leedy said. "But I need approval from the bank
before I can negotiate a lease. No one will talk to me about
a lease until I have a firm financial commitment."

"I understand your problem," Terry said. "But the bank
needs specific information to determine if your restaurant
is a sound venture. Have you thought about buying a place
instead of renting? Property values are going up in Madison. It may be a good time to invest in real estate instead
of signing a lease. And you wouldn't have to worry about
a landlord kicking you out when your contract is up."

"How could I possibly afford to buy a building?" she
asked.

"These are the sort of things that the bank considers before it approves a loan," he said.

"I can see your point of view, Mr. Foster, but ..."

"And you didn't allow for nearly enough funds to get
you through those first critical months after you open."

"I thought it was sufficient," she said.

"You wouldn't last a month with the small amount of
money you requested," he told her.

Leedy set down her fork and cocked her head to one
side. "But your bank denied my application, remember?"
she said. "What chance would I have of getting a loan
approved for even more money?"

"Your application was not denied because you were asking for too much money," he said. "Your application was
denied because the bank didn't think your proposal was a
safe investment. And we're a bank, not a fairy godmother."

She winced. She knew she was wearing her heart on her
sleeve and she did not want to. "This is all good advice,"
she said. "But the restaurant business is not the same as ...
say, opening up an antique shop or a gas station. There
are health code standards and payroll issues that are unique
to food preparation, not to mention the high degree of
competition between restaurants and the fickleness of the
customers. I've worked in this business for a long time,
Mr. Foster, and, believe me, there are a million variables
to think of. I've tried to take everything into account and
I think I've done a fairly good job of it."

"You have," he said. "But my field of expertise is strictly
on the business and finance side of things. That's something
that every business needs to consider. And I think I can
help you put things in focus."

"Okay," she said. "What do you think I need to do to
get my restaurant off the ground?"

"It's funny you should ask," Terry said and held up a
yellow pad of paper. She could see that several pages were
already filled with small, neat handwriting. "After you left
yesterday, I took a second look at your loan application
and jotted down a few notes."

Leedy scanned the first page. "I can't do all these
things!" she said. "It would take forever."

"You can too do all those things," Terry said. "You can
and you will. Because you, Leedy Collins, are the kind of
woman who will make her restaurant dream come true.
Whatever the costs. It may take years for it to happen,
but ..."

"Years?" Her heart sank.

"Years-and the sooner you get started the sooner you
will be ready."

Leedy definitely didn't like what he was saying, but she
had to admit the items listed on the yellow pad made sense.
She nodded and watched him from across the small table.
He smiled and, once again, she wished he would lean over
the table and kiss her. An inappropriate gesture perhaps,
but she wished for it all the same.

"Okay," she said, finally. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to
consider your notes. I'm not promising I'll follow through
with all of your suggestions. But I'll consider them."

"Good enough," he said and sipped his iced tea.

She flipped through the pages of the legal pad as they
silently ate their lunch. Terry watched her with a look in
his eye that she couldn't quite identify. Was it admiration?
Sympathy? Desire?

Finally he looked at his watch. "Oh, boy," he exclaimed,
suddenly jumping up from his chair. "I lost track of the
time! I'm in big trouble."

"What's wrong?" Leedy asked.

"I'm late. I promised Deanna I would take her shopping
for shoes." By the pained expression on his face, she knew
Terry was not thrilled with the idea.

"That sounds like fun," Leedy offered.

"For you maybe," he groaned. "I'm not much of a shopper. Oddly, it seems to be Deanna's favorite pastime. And
since I have all the credit cards, she's most insistent that I
tag along. Besides, you can never have enough shoes, can
you?"

"No," Leedy said, smiling. Deanna was certainly a girl
after her own heart. "You really can't have enough shoes."

He stood up, apologizing for leaving so abruptly. She
assured him it was quite all right. She was surprised how
her feelings for Terry had gone from worry to warmth in
a matter of moments. She stood up and shook his hand.
"Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Foster," she said formally.

"Thank you," he said. He looked her in the eyes and
suddenly took her by both of her shoulders and gently
shook her. "And, for the last time, my name is Terry!"

"Terry," she said, grinning.

"See you around," he said.

He made it as far as the coffee station before he turned
back and walked toward her. "By the way," he said. "A
night class called Small Business Management starts next
week at the University. You may want to consider signing
up.