Second Chance Cafe (3 page)

He’d heard the words before, but for some reason, this time they sunk into Ethan and the notion took root.

“I doubt I could get a loan,” Ethan said, though he wasn’t sure. He didn’t make all that much as a firefighter, but he was pretty good with investments and had a healthy savings.

“I’ll sell it for a fair price, Ethan. I’d rather you have this place than anyone else.”

Ethan felt a catch in his throat. Over the years, Mick and Kay had sort of adopted the guys at the fire station. Kay brought over cookies and sandwiches every now and then. And Mick always took time to sit and talk with the firefighters who came into the café. And Ethan, who had almost no family to speak of, didn’t take those things lightly. He cared about Mick and Kay.

“You take some time to pray about it, Ethan,” Mick said after a moment. “And Kay and I will pray about it, too. Call me in a few days if you’re interested and I’ll have a price for you. I’ve got a feeling this is right, but you’ve got to feel it, too.”

Someone in the back called for Mick and he lowered himself from the barstool, patting Ethan on the shoulder as he passed by. Alone with his thoughts, Ethan let himself consider the idea of owning his own café. He gazed around the small restaurant.

It needed fresh paint; that was for sure. And new decor. The menu could use some sprucing up, too. A more energized waitstaff wouldn’t hurt, either. But the bones of the old place were good. And the location alone gave the café potential. Mick had only ever served breakfast and lunch. Ethan would want to continue that system.

I could still work evenings at the firehouse once I’m cleared for duty.

A new name…new management… Ethan wondered if maybe he really could breathe life into this little place. He could make it his own. Owning a restaurant was a dream he’d given up.

Maybe it was time to take it back.

Chapter 3

T
he kitchen at the Franklin Street Romano’s location buzzed with activity. Isabella walked through the back door, sidestepping waiters, dishwashers and cooks. The smells of marinara, Alfredo sauce and garlic inundated her senses as she quickly navigated through the kitchen maze to make her way to her brother’s office. She tapped three times on the door before opening it.

“Leo?”

Her brother looked up in surprise. “Hey, sis. Are you on the schedule for tonight?” he joked. She sat down in the chair across from his desk.

“Very funny.”

“So what’s up?”

“How’s Mandy?” Isabella asked, wondering about her very pregnant sister-in-law and hoping to put off the questions about why she’d dropped by.

“She’s okay. Uncomfortable, but it won’t be for much longer.”

“Two more weeks, right?”

“Yeah. She thinks the baby will come early.”

“It’s her first. He will probably come late.”

“That’s what I keep telling her.”

“She’s a pregnant woman, Leonardo. Don’t argue with her right now.”

Leo grinned. “
Now
you tell me.”

Isabella picked at a stray string on the chair she was sitting in and didn’t say anything.

“Like I said, Isa,
what’s up?
You never stop by unless you want me to feed you or you need to talk.”

Isabella glanced up sheepishly. “I know.”

“So which is it?”

“Both. Can I get an order of spinach lasagna to take with me?”

“You know you can. Now tell me what’s going on with you.”

Isabella sighed. “I had breakfast with a firefighter today.”

Leo’s eyebrows rose. “So, you’ve come to me with your boy problems?”

“Leonardo,”
Isabella warned, and Leo held up both hands.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m all ears. When can I meet him?”

“I don’t know. It’s not serious or anything. It was the first time we’ve hung out together in person. We chat online sometimes.”

“But you like him,” Leo said after a moment, studying her. “Why?”

Isabella crossed her arms. “I don’t know. He just had a really bad back injury and yet he still tries to stay positive. He’s persistent, which I like. I can’t stand measly guys who won’t go after what they want. But he’s not forceful. He’s laid-back, but he’s capable. And he likes me, which I like.”

“And which tells me he has good taste.”

Isabella gave her brother a grateful look.

“He’s a Christian,” she finally said. Leo nodded, then stood up and moved to sit in the chair next to her.

“That’s a good thing,” he said.

“I know,” Isabella agreed.

After a moment of silence—Leo knew her well enough to know not to press her—Isabella laid her head back in the chair.

“Do you ever feel like you’ve been going through the motions for so long that you don’t know what’s real anymore?”

A knock at the door interrupted them. Their cousin Angelina poked her head in the office. “Leo, did you want to see me?”

“I did, but it has to wait, Angie. Talk to me after your shift.”

“Got it. See you later, Isa.” The door closed and Leo looked back at her.

“Have you seen Dad today?” he asked.

Isabella nodded. “Of course. I stopped by right before I came here.”

Leo didn’t say anything, but she knew what he was thinking. That her lack of faith had to do with their father’s debilitating illness.

“You don’t have to go over there every day, Isa. They have a trained nurse.”

“I’m a trained nurse.”

“I know you are,” Leo said. “And you’re an amazing nurse. But I think going over to Mom and Dad’s so much is starting to drain you.”

“I want to go. If something happens, it’s important to me to be there for him.”

“I can understand that because I feel the same way. But you need to have time for a life, too.”

“Hello? Did you hear me tell you I went on a date this morning?”

Leo smiled at her propensity to be sassy.

“I’m tired, I guess,” Isabella admitted. “I’m feeling a little burned out at the hospital. And yes, going to Mom and Dad’s every day wears me out. And even though I want to find someone, I’m really sick of dating. Remember that last guy I dated? The teacher who had a checklist for his future wife that he brought with him to our dinner date? And how awkward it was when he realized I only met two of his checkpoints?”

Leo laughed but started coughing when Isabella gave him the
look.

“Right. I remember that. Very unfortunate.”

“I’m twenty-seven years old and I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than six months. They just never work out. I get restless or the guy gets restless, or there’s not enough chemistry or…I don’t know. And I’m just tired of looking. You know, putting myself out there in the dating pool. Risking my heart. I’m not into it anymore.”

“You’re going to find someone, Isa. It’ll happen. You want to stop looking? Go ahead and stop. Hand it over to God and wait and see what happens. But the restlessness in you—I think it’s more than just being single.”

Isabella stood up and began to pace—nervous habit. When she realized she was doing it, she sat back down and hugged her arms around herself. “I’ve been going to the same church for what feels like forever. Well, I
used
to be going to the same church. I’m not going to pretend I’ve been there in months. I just feel like nothing changes for me. I’m always talking to the same people. I’ve been working as a nurse for years, doing the same job every day. I’m tired of my apartment. I’m tired of watching my dad’s health deteriorate and not being able to do anything about it. I’m tired of everything.”

Leo rubbed his chin. “So you need a change.”

“Yes, Einstein. Any suggestions?”

“Vacation?”

“I’m not comfortable leaving Dad right now. You know he’s getting worse.”

“I have an opening for a hostess position.”

“Leo, don’t even go there.”

“I was just offering! I’m trying to help. Maybe you should give this firefighter guy a chance. Go out with him. But let me meet him so I can intimidate him.”

“He goes into burning buildings for a living. Sorry, bro. I don’t think you’ll scare him.”

“Just think about it.”

Isabella sighed. “Okay. My life could use some spicing up.”

Leo reached over and touched her hand. “Give God a chance, too, Isa.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “You know I’m a believer, Leo.”

“I know you are. But I also know you’re not feeling it right now.”

“Sometimes I wish God would just do something drastic in my life so that I would know it was really Him. So that I would feel like He’s really and truly involved. Like He cares.”

“I used to feel that way, too,” Leo said. Isabella looked at him, surprised by his admission.

“What happened?”

“When I started looking for Him, I could see His involvement in every way—drastic or not. He’s there, Isa.”

* * *

For the next week and a half, Ethan thought and prayed over the idea of buying the café. He just wasn’t sure what to do. He’d chatted online with Isa every few nights but hadn’t felt able to broach the subject with her. He kept thinking of her tone and body language when she’d talked to him about her family’s restaurant endeavors. He also hadn’t had any luck securing another date with her, which troubled him.

It was time to make something happen. He decided to spend some time in the kitchen. Cooking and baking—his ideas of therapy. The kitchen in his studio apartment was small but functional, and Ethan had supplied it with excellent cooking equipment.

It had been months since his last cooking class at The Seasoned Chef. At the time, a guest instructor from France had surprised the class by teaching them to make an assortment of pastries. Ethan had liked
pain au chocolat,
chocolate-stuffed croissants, best. They were a perfect breakfast pastry in Ethan’s opinion.

He wondered whether Isabella liked chocolate for breakfast.

The question begged to be answered. Ethan rolled up his sleeves, deciding to dive into the laborious task of making a pastry that would impress Isabella Romano.

He checked his pantry to make sure he had the ingredients for croissants and then got to work mixing flour, sugar, yeast and salt. He poured milk into his stand mixer and added the flour combination, creating a large ball of dough. He ate leftover pizza and watched two movies while waiting for the dough to suitably chill. Folding the dough and making sure it was adequately buttered was time-
consuming. About halfway through the ordeal, Ethan had to stop to take his pain medication. He glanced at the clock above his stove, shocked that half the night had passed as he worked. But he didn’t mind. The feeling of rolling dough and the sight of scattered ingredients filling his kitchen counters energized him.

By the time the kitchen smelled of a blend of chocolate and warm, fresh croissant bread, Ethan sat at the kitchen table exhausted. He downed an energy drink, trying to stay awake, and then tasted the result of his efforts.

Ethan bit into the warm, flaky bread and was instantly lost in buttery layers, that is, until he stumbled upon the burst of deep melted chocolate.

It was better than he’d expected. He packaged several and left for the hospital, determined to make it there before Isabella’s shift ended.

* * *

Isabella checked the clock again. Five forty-eight Thursday morning. She yawned. The E.R. had been slower than usual. Slow nights were the hardest. She didn’t feel so tired when working amid the rush of a busy emergency room. Maggie had the night off, which made for an even quieter night for Isabella. She sifted through the paperwork in front of her.

I’m exhausted. I don’t want to be here right now.

She resisted the urge to glance back up at the clock.

“Isabella, you have a guest.” Isabella jerked her head up at Dr. Nichol’s statement. He winked at her. “The break room is free, if you want to offer him some coffee.” Isabella leaned to the side to see who was standing a few paces behind the doctor.

Someone with the makings of a firefighter.

She bit back her smile. Dr. Nichols walked away and Isabella sat back in her chair.

“Up a little early, aren’t you?” she asked.

He walked up to the desk and held out a paper bag. “Breakfast.”

Isabella accepted the bag and peered inside, inhaling the aroma of warm bread and chocolate.

“Where did you stop?”

“This is from the kitchen of Ethan Carter.”

Isabella looked up with delight. “Well, then. I can offer you some not-that-great coffee, if you’re interested.”

“If it’s coffee with you, Isabella, I’m interested.”

Isabella stared at him for a moment, enjoying the quickening of her heart rate at Ethan’s words. She liked his self-confidence.

He’s good.

“Come on, tough guy,” she said, motioning for him to follow her down the hallway. They entered the staff break room and Ethan sat down at the table while Isabella filled two foam cups with lukewarm coffee. She sat next to him and he pointed to the bag of pastry.

“Eat,” he insisted. She chuckled and pulled out the still-warm croissant.

“I should warn you, I’ll be completely honest with my assessment.”

Ethan nodded. “I’d expect nothing less from an expert like you.”

Isabella bit into the croissant and paused, appreciating the light, flaky texture and rich, buttery taste. The chocolate was obviously high quality, rich and delicious.

“Mmm.” The response was unplanned but completely accurate. Ethan’s smile reached his eyes.

“I assume that means you approve?”

Isabella took another bite before answering.

“So…why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you lead a secret double life as a pastry chef?”

Ethan laughed. “Don’t tell the guys at the fire station, okay?”

Isabella watched him, wishing for a moment that she didn’t always feel the need to hesitate. But experience had taught her that throwing caution to the wind rarely turned out well for her.

Still, he’d brought her chocolate for breakfast. Under different circumstances, that would have deserved a kiss.

“Isabella?” Ethan said. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She lowered her gaze, hoping a blush didn’t creep up her cheeks.

“I’m thinking you’re better in the kitchen than I realized, Ethan. This kind of pastry isn’t easy to make. Who taught you?”

He sighed as though caught. “All right. I’ve taken a few courses at The Seasoned Chef.”

Isabella nodded slowly. “Impressive. But please don’t tell me you’re interested in owning your own restaurant someday.”

Ethan shrugged. “I’m a firefighter, Isa. If it weren’t for this injury, I’d be suiting up for work every night, just like you.”

Isabella finished the pastry. “Well, firefighter or not, you’ve got talent in the kitchen.” She could tell that the praise wasn’t lost on him. And that he enjoyed cooking and baking more than he let on. For some reason, the thought bothered her.

“Does chocolate for breakfast warrant something in return?” Ethan asked cautiously.

Isa tensed. “Like what?”

“Three questions answered.”

Isa smiled, the tension easing. She liked the fact that he kept surprising her.

“Ask away.”

Ethan scooted his chair closer to her and leaned in.

“Do you like me, Isabella Romano?”

Her heart seemed to skip a beat and the intensity in his blue eyes made her want to capture the moment and freeze it. He wouldn’t look away. And she was captivated by his straightforwardness.

“Yes,” she whispered. He leaned back with a satisfied smile and Isa knew he’d received the answer he’d wanted. She cleared her throat.

“Question number two,” she prompted.

“Are you happy?” The serious look in Ethan’s eyes didn’t waver. Isabella couldn’t breathe. She felt as if he were trying to see into her soul, as if he was searching for something.

And what kind of question was that, anyway?

“Why would you ask me that?” she kept her tone restrained, her eyes downward.