Free Ash to Steele by Karen-Anne Stewart Page B

to book the private room and tell the other party that we can offer them the heated deck, which we can make private, and throw in a bottle of  Giovanni Chiappini  Guado de’ Gemoli to sweeten the offer.  Put the signed delivery papers for the oven at my desk.  I will meet with Mrs. Stavley about the dinnerware then I’ll call to make sure the ale is delivered before 7:00 p.m..  For now, if a customer asks for ale, give them the best draft at half off with a free appetizer.”
       Steve gives a quick nod before heading to take care of the tasks.  He’s efficient and trustworthy, which is what prompted me to offer him the manager’s position three years ago when I opened Kylianna’s. Now, I just have to teach him to not take no for an answer when negotiating.
       Walking through the main dining area, I’m filled with the same peace and sense of belonging that I only feel when I’m here.  This is my home, my place in the world, what I busted my ass for five years to accomplish.  The ambiance was carefully created by a professional designer, a little over the top for my tastes, but the customers seem to appreciate the details put into the five star restaurant.  The dimly lit atmosphere gives a romantic feel while the high back, plush booths offer privacy. The soft lighting is accented with dark crystal spheres hanging aesthetically throughout the room.  A large rock fireplace sits in the back and a majestic stone fountain boasts the entryway.  The heated deck is constructed out of oak, mosaic tile, and decorative stonework.  The deck is my favorite part of the restaurant. 
       Entering the bar, I can’t help but smirk at what the decorator called ‘enhancement lighting’, but what I call trick lighting, illuminating everyone’s features in the most appealing way, apparently, very similar to candlelight, according to the decorator.  It took every dime I had saved from years of juggling two jobs through high school and college, several lucrative street fights, and a few hefty loans to make my dream a reality.  Blood, sweat, fierce determination, and three years later, Kylianna’s is listed as one of the most prestigious restaurants in the East, giving me the ability to have paid off all the loans and build another restaurant that is due to open on New Year’s Eve.  I keep waiting for everything to come crashing down.  Until it does, it’s mine, the only thing that is mine, and I’ll fight like hell to keep it.
       “Mr. Steele, it’s nice to see you again,” Mrs. Stavley smiles, extending her hand covered in platinum and diamonds. 
       I give it a quick shake instead of the kiss against her knuckles that she expects and is accustomed to from everyone other than me. “Nice to see you again as well, Mrs. Stavley,” I greet the woman standing in front of me who is in her mid thirties, gorgeous, unbelievably rich, and bored to tears with her billionaire husband, which is one of the reasons she chose to take a job traveling the States with designer dinnerware.  The other reason is that it allows her to hook up with her collection of lovers she’s met along her ventures.  If she weren’t married, I would have obliged her advances the first time we met.  There are very few lines that I don’t cross, but fucking a married woman is one of them.  
       “Congratulations on Kylianna’s being featured in the top five restaurants in America last month,” she purrs, running her finger down my wrist and over the top of my hand before strategically playing with the diamond that hangs just at the top of her exposed ample chest.
       “Thank you,” I smile politely, ready to get on with selecting the dinnerware so she will leave.
       “I was hoping to see your picture with the article, like the other featured owners of the restaurants listed.”  Stepping closer, she runs her tongue across her top lip, “You don’t seem like the shy type to me.”
       “Shy, no.  Private,