Steamed

you’re a chef?” I had to broach the subject of women. How many ghosts or exes were still hanging around?
    “Actually, no. Most girls don’t want to put up with a chef’s hours. I work holidays, weekends, and I’m not usually done until anywhere between ten at night and one in the morning. I’ve had a couple of people break up with me because they resented how much I work.” Josh shrugged. “But what are you gonna do? I just love being a chef.”
    “Well, I think that’s horrible. If you want to be with somebody, then you work it out, bad schedule or not.” I’d wait up until three in the morning every night just to catch a glimpse of Josh. “Well, they must have loved your cooking, though. Didn’t that make the hours worth it?”
    “I dated one girl for two years, and her favorite food was a well-done turkey burger on a roll.” Josh rolled his eyes. “So I can’t say she was a big fan of my cooking. God, I never want to see another turkey burger as long as I live. And she couldn’t deal with my hours, so she dumped me.”
    “Turkey burgers? With everything you make, that’s what she wanted? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
    “Yeah, obviously that relationship was doomed. And she was pissed that I didn’t make more money. Believe me, most people who cook aren’t in it for the money. A handful of top chefs have great salaries, but people like me and like Brian? We don’t make a lot. In fact, sometimes sous chefs and line cooks work second jobs to pay the bills. If they have the time to. that is.”
    I can’t say that I was too upset that someone else had cast off this great guy. But what woman in her right mind would break up with someone this wonderful? Murder suspect or not.
    As tempted as I was to jump out of my chair and into Josh’s lap for a more in-depth interview, I figured we’d better wrap up our first date, which wasn’t exactly a date but was better than most actual dates and consequently counted as one. Josh must have had the same feeling I did. He stood up and started loading the dishes in my minidishwasher. “Listen, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to come into the restaurant for dinner this week. You could bring a couple of friends if you want.”
    I refrained from fainting with delight and collected myself enough to agree to come in at seven on Friday night. I said I’d bring Adrianna and her boyfriend, Owen. No sense in flaunting Adrianna without Owen on her arm.
    “Excellent. I’ll seat you guys up by the kitchen so I can talk to you while I work,” he promised. “I can’t wait to see you again,” he murmured as he leaned over and kissed my forehead.
    “I can’t wait to eat again,” I joked, pulling him back in for another full-on kiss.
     

TEN
     
    AS much as I didn’t want to see Josh go, I was exhausted from the funeral as well as from my day of food and new love. I puttered around the house for a while and thought about Josh and how cute and sexy and gastronomically gifted he was. I couldn’t believe I’d be at his restaurant on Friday. I left Adrianna a voice message demanding that she and Owen come to dinner with me to check out my new love interest, rate his food, and keep me collected during my first real date with Josh. Even though he’d be working, as far as I was concerned it would still qualify as a date. And a date at Magellan! Probably with dishes even better than his catered funeral food.
    I hated going on dates where the guy took you to some boring restaurant with mediocre food and didn’t notice that anything was wrong. In fact, I can remember what I’ve had to eat on most of the dates I’ve had, and for me, the sharing of food can make or break a relationship. The first date I ever had was in the spring of my sophomore year in high school. It was with George Rosenthal, a junior who worked part-time at a fishmonger (good sign). He took me to the Ground Round (bad sign), where in quintessential teen fashion, I made like I never ate anything and lived exclusively on Diet Coke. George scarfed down two plates of fries and a huge burger and, clearly not impressed with my soda dinner, took me to see Die Hard: With a Vengeance and then promptly drove me home. That was the last time I starved myself on a date. If a guy is put off by the fact that I like to eat, too bad for him.
    The quality of the food on a date doesn’t necessarily have to be great, but we do have to agree about whether a meal is sensational, forgettable, or just