Steamed

Joelle and I silently awaited his judgment. I felt for Joelle, who had to humor customers who’d taken wine-tasting courses and now viewed themselves as amateur sommeliers.
    Eric peered seriously off into space as he presumably garnered the effect of the wine on all his senses. I prayed to God he wasn’t planning to spit it out. Mercifully, he finally issued the opinion that the wine was fit for consumption. The hostess and I both sighed with relief. I smiled apologetically at her, and she gave me a knowing smile back. She filled our glasses and rushed off to seat a group of diners waiting by the entrance.
    “Joelle does a nice job. Excellent hostess, as you could see. I like that in a restaurant. The hostess is the first person you have contact with when you go out to eat, and that encounter really sets the stage for the caliber of establishment,” Eric explained to me.
    “I suppose you have to get a good feel for all aspects of a business if you’re considering investing?” I asked him. So far I was not into what struck me as Eric’s pretentious analysis, but if he was going to be dropping a bundle of money into this place, research and judgment were necessary. But pretension? Was it necessary, too?
    “Of course. Timothy Rock, the owner, will come over, I’m sure. And we’ll talk with the chef, too. His name’s Garrett, and he does nice work. I used to eat at Magellan all the time, Tim’s old restaurant. Now that place will blow you away.”
    Magellan was way out of my price range, but I’d read countless mouthwatering reviews in the papers and on the Internet. If things went well tonight with Eric, maybe I’d actually get a chance to eat there myself! Just the thought of a meal at the famous Magellan brought out the flirt in me. Smiling, I leaned in close to Eric. “So, you know Tim from dining at Magellan? Is that how you became a potential investor at Essence? I didn’t know Magellan had even changed hands.”
    Eric took a slow drink of his wine before answering. “Yeah, I love Magellan. Great place for business dinners, and I took clients there all the time, so I got to know Tim pretty well. He was always out on the dining floor, talking to guests and making sure they had everything they needed. I mean, usually when you go out to eat, you don’t see the owners that much. Or maybe you do when the place first opens, but Magellan had been open for a few years, and Tim and his wife, Madeline, they owned the place together, and those two were always in the dining room, meeting people, talking. If you ate there once, they’d remember you when you came back, and that’s part of the reason Magellan has done so well. People like to feel important, that they’re ‘in’ with a restaurant, you know?”
    I nodded. One person who clearly loved to feel important was Eric himself.
    He continued. “Tim and Maddie never left things up to the general manager. They were at the restaurant every night. Probably one of the reasons they got divorced—too much time together working and not enough time away from the restaurant.” Eric took off his jacket and gestured for Joelle, who immediately swooped over, took his coat away, and left us with menus.
    The menus were presented in leather-bound folders, suitable covers for the delectable descriptions inside. I looked at the appetizers, but just after drooling over Roasted Porto-bello Mushroom and Arugula with Stilton-Pink Peppercorn Vinaigrette, I was interrupted by Eric, who resumed his monologue. “And, actually, I was such a good customer there that I ended up partying with the staff after hours. I became friendly with Tim, and when he opened Essence, he called me to invest. Partying there was also how I hooked up with my ex-girlfriend, Veronica. She does the books for Magellan, and now she works here at Essence, too.”
    Oh, great, we’ve been here fifteen minutes, and he’s already talking about his ex. Probably hung up on her, and this is his way of letting me know he’s not totally available. Well, if he’d shut up, maybe we could get to eat, which is half the point of being here.
    “So,” I said, trying to change the subject, “I’ve never sat so close to a kitchen like this before. It’s fun to be able to watch the chef work. I can’t wait to taste the food.” I took a gulp from my wineglass and surveyed the busy scene in front of me. Our counter curved gently around the kitchen to offer a clear view of the stoves and the prep counter. The