Worth the Risk

barely nineteen and Aunt Callie had still been alive. “It’s easier to marry money than make it,” Aunt Callie kept telling her.
    Lexi intended to marry for love—not money. And she hadn’t loved Matt.
    “When we went to nice places like this—“ Lexi looked around “—Matt didn’t pay. His parents did.”
    Amber shrugged. “Whatever. Hey!” She waved frantically. “There’s Brad.”
    Lexi had to admit the man was attractive, but for some reason he disturbed her. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because she knew he was too worldly and sophisticated to be interested in her.
    “Hey, glad you could make it.” He came up to the table and pulled out a chair.
    “Great place,” Amber said before Lexi could utter a word. “Where did you get the idea for the decorations?”
    Brad shot them an engaging smile that seemed to be second nature to him. “I liked the tropical feel they have in Key West restaurants. I told the decorator that’s the look I wanted.”
    “I read you have other restaurants,” Lexi said.
    Brad turned toward her. “True. I have two more. One is done like a Paris bistro—”
    “What’s that?” Amber wanted to know.
    “A small café about a quarter the size of this with lots of wood paneling, soft lights and white tablecloths.”
    “That’s what it’s like in Paris?” she asked.
    Paris sounded so exotic, Lexi thought. A must-see place—a world away from Houston. She intended to visit one day—after she’d completed her education, landed a good-paying job and sent Amber through school. Maybe then she’d have enough money to travel.
    “You’ve been to Paris?” she heard herself ask. Dummy! Of course Brad Westcott had traveled extensively.
    “Yep. Courtesy of Uncle Sam. In the army I was stationed in Germany. On leave a bunch of us went to Paris. The food was awesome. Paris bistros are like our coffee shops. They’re everywhere. But unlike some of our coffee shops, it’s hard to get a bad meal. Owners take great pride in what they serve.”
    A cute redhead sashayed up to their table with a flirty smile for Brad. “I’m Tiffany. I’ll be your waitress. What can I get y’all to drink?”
    They decided on tropical ice tea and their waitress swished away to fill their order. Out of the corner of her eye, Lexi watched Amber. For once she didn’t seem to know what to say.
    “What’s the theme of your other restaurant?” Lexi asked.
    Brad settled back in his chair. “Jo’ Mama’s is a backwoods-style rib joint. Southern barbecue. Picnic tables, checkered tablecloths, mugs for beer.”
    “Sounds like a winner,” Amber said. “Everyone loves barbecue.”
    Another food that Amber loved but needed to limit, Lexi thought.
    Brad must have detected the concern on her face. “We offer plenty of healthy choices at all my restaurants.” He pointed to the oversize menus in front of them. “The hearts in front of a selection mean it has less fat and sugar.”
    “You’d be surprised how much sugar is hidden in food,” Amber said.
    This insight was a direct result of the nutrition classes she had taken after she’d been diagnosed with diabetes. Sugar was in an amazing number of foods—especially prepared foods in the grocery store.
    “You two into healthy eating?” Brad asked.
    Lexi waited for Amber to answer. Sometimes she felt uncomfortable discussing her diabetes.
    “I always watch what I eat. I have diabetes.”
    “Interesting.” He grunted the word, obviously not knowing how to respond. Lexi waited for his captivating smile, but it didn’t come.
    “ Interesting is a word people use when they don’t have a clue what to say,” Amber responded.
    As usual, Amber’s thoughts moved directly from her brain to her mouth. But to give her sister credit, Lexi thought, she accepted her diabetes even though she sometimes ignored the food restrictions.
    Uncertainty shadowed Brad’s eyes. “Actually, I was thinking that’s a lot to have to deal with at such a young age.”
    “You learn to handle it. That’s why I’m going to win your contest. I want to create a dessert even diabetics can eat.”
    “I know the feeling,” Brad said, his expression intent. “When I was your age, I was overweight. Obese, probably, but we didn’t say that back then.”
    Lexi couldn’t believe this buff guy had ever been overweight, but the earnestness in his voice said he was telling the truth.
    “Did the kids tease you?” Lexi asked.
    “All the time,” he admitted.
    “I