A Fine Romance by Christi Barth

few pairs of Louboutins into the birthday box that arrived every year, in lieu of her parents actually showing up and spending time with her.
    Nerves a little less jangly, Mira put down her phone and eased open the door a crack. “I’m sorry, but we don’t open for a few more weeks. If you’d like to leave me your email address, I’ll be sure to send you information about the grand opening.”
    “Goodness, I know you aren’t open yet. That’s why I’m here. I’d like to apply for a job.”
    “Really? The sales clerk position?”
    “Nope. I’m a cook.” She pointed to her basket. “If you’d indulge me for a few minutes, I brought a resume, of sorts.” When Mira hesitated, the woman put down the basket and rummaged in her purse. “I almost forgot. If there’s one thing my husband’s hammered home to me about the business world, it’s that connections are everything. I don’t mind shamelessly using mine to open the door. After that, I’m confident my food will speak for itself.” She handed Mira a glossy program.
    “What’s this?”
    “My letter of introduction. Not as professional as I’d like, but it’s remarkably hard to find stationery in the middle of a gala.”
    Mira unfolded the program. The splashy purple-and-white cover indicated it was from last night’s Minds Matter gala to benefit Northwestern Hospital’s Brain Tumor Institute. Scribbled in the margin was a single sentence: Give her a try ! It was signed by Samantha Rhodes, Ivy’s mother. Which made it practically a royal edict. Samantha was a force of nature, not to mention a big mover and shaker in Chicago’s elite social circles. The mystery woman was right. Dropping that name was all it took for Mira to swing open the door and usher her inside.
    “Well, if you cook half as well as you network, you’ll be a shoo-in for the job.” There. With a touch of humor, she’d established the blatant name-dropping was acknowledged, but not enough to hand her the job on a silver platter. “I’m Mira Parrish. Welcome to what will soon be A Fine Romance.”
    “Helen Warrington.” After setting the basket on the floor, she shook Mira’s hand. “And all I want is a fair shot.” They both sat on the stools by the front counter. Helen crossed her legs and beamed a warm smile.
    Mira glanced at her watch, trying to figure out how much behind this would set her pre-date routine. “I’m afraid this will be a brief interview. I need to head out shortly.”
    “Do you have a hot date lined up?”
    The professional side of Mira was prepared to shake off the question, but surprisingly, a different answer popped out when she opened her mouth. “As a matter of fact, I do.” It must be because they’d agreed to keep it under wraps. Letting the whole gang know just cranked up the expectation level. After one real date, she and Sam would be able to ascertain if this thing was just a crazed spurt of lust-on-the-lake, or something worth pursuing. Then they could share the news. But it had been driving her crazy not to be able to gush to Ivy or Daphne. Part of the fun of anticipation was anticipating with others. So out of the blue, she’d blurted it out to a total stranger.
    “Good for you. You’re young and pretty. You should be out breaking hearts left and right.” Helen leaned forward, one elbow on the counter. “Is he a thoroughly gorgeous specimen?”
    Mira choked on a laugh. “Why yes, he is. But...it’s complicated.”
    “Take it from me, dear. The best ones always are.”
    Helen’s congenial openness was very appealing. She’d made a strong always-important first impression. Mira liked her right off the bat. However, she still presented a mystery. The upper-crust clothes didn’t mesh with a burning desire for a job slaving away over a hot stove. Resisting the urge to gush about Sam, Mira grabbed her pad to take notes. “Do you have experience?”
    “Yes.” Helen settled her hands in her lap. “I worked in my family’s