Cook the Books

but we practically just moved in, and I don’t feel like moving again. But you’re right. We barely fit into this place, and it’s just going to get worse in a few months when Patrick starts to crawl. But for tonight, please be careful and don’t burn the place down, okay?”
    “Nothing is going to happen, Adrianna.” Owen rolled his eyes at his wife’s worrying. “It’s a nothing little grill, and don’t forget that yours truly was a Boy Scout. I’m an expert when it comes to fire safety. My son and I are bonding this evening, so leave us alone to do manly things like play with fire. And burp.”
    After reeling off endless baby-care instructions, Ade kissed Owen and Patrick, and then stood frozen at the front door, staring at her boys. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I won’t be gone too long.”
    “I promise we’ll be fine, babe. Please go out and have fun. You spend twenty-four hours a day with the baby. You deserve a few hours off, okay? I swear I’ll call you if we need anything.” Owen smiled reassuringly.
    “Okay.” She sighed again and didn’t move.
    “Ade, you’re making me feel guilty. If you don’t want to come, I understand,” I said.
    “No, she’s going with you. Chloe, drag her down the stairs if you have to,” Owen ordered.
    “I’m going. I’m going. Bye,” she said pathetically. “I love you guys.”
    “We love you, too. Bye, Mommy.” Owen lifted Patrick’s hand and waved his son’s arm. “Have fun, Mommy.”
    “Oh no, Adrianna! You can’t cry,” I insisted. “Not after you spent all that time on your makeup!”
    “Fine. Let’s go.” She rushed out the door, down the stairs, and into my car.
    We drove in silence to the downtown restaurant. I knew that once I got her inside she’d relax. There was no way she’d be able to resist a good meal, and Oracle had been receiving glowing reviews in both local and national publications. For once, I sprang for valet parking. Tonight, I didn’t want to waste time cruising Boston’s jammed streets and risk finding nothing but an itty-bitty space that would require parallel-parking skills superior to mine. As I got out of the car, I felt self-confident. We were on time. I was going to make a good impression on Kyle Boucher. I was going to keep Ade from crying. Most of all, I was going to get this job.
     

THREE
     
    FOR a Wednesday night, Oracle was crowded. I took its popularity as a sign that the food would be wonderful. The large dining area was almost entirely pale blue, as if the designer had wanted to create the feel of an artful house of ice: blue walls, blue linens on the tables, and even ice blue tile on the floor. The candles glowing from wall sconces and the miniature glass pendant lights hanging from the ceiling suggested a starry sky above the diners. It was magical! Better yet, contrary to appearances, the temperature was perfectly comfortable.
    I approached the hostess stand. “I’m here to meet Kyle Boucher.”
    “Excellent. Your party is already seated. Right this way.”
    I followed the hostess to a corner of the restaurant, where a blond, goateed man in his early thirties sat alone. I recognized Kyle from his photograph, but he was much better looking than the small picture had indicated. He slid out of the semicircular booth and stood up. With a warm smile, he said, “You must be Chloe.”
    “And you must be Kyle.” I shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And this is my friend Adrianna.” Uh-oh! I’d forgotten to come up with an explanation for her presence at dinner.
    “Adrianna, it’s lovely to meet you, too.” Kyle showed no sign of finding it bizarre that a job applicant had turned up for her interview with a friend in tow.
    “I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along,” Adrianna said apologetically. “I have a three-month-old baby, and I practically begged Chloe to bring me with her tonight. I just had to get out of the house.” Talk about a true friend!
    “I don’t mind a bit. The more the merrier,” he said graciously and gestured for us to take seats.
    I scooted into the middle of the arched booth so that I sat between my friend and my potential boss. Kyle was indeed a good-looking man. Not that I cared, obviously, but he was tall, and his athletic build was visible even under his navy suit. His golden hair was neatly cut, but his goatee needed a trim. That slight hint of imperfection gave him a scruffy appeal.
    The waitress appeared with our menus, and Kyle