A lump settled in her throat. Julieta had imagined many ways this conversation could’ve gone before she blurted out those words. But never in her scenarios had she considered that Ramón would actually listen to her, and possibly believe her—or that he might want to do right by Mamá.
For now, she wouldn’t get too hopeful about Ramón compensating Mamá for her recipe.
“I’m curious what your father will say.”
Ramón smiled, his dimples deepening. “Me too, but Julieta, that’s their problem, not ours.”
The way Ramón said “ours” caused Julieta to pause. There was no Ramón and Julieta as a unit. They were completely separate, only bound together for this restaurant.
Time to change the subject.
“What is first on the agenda? For the record, all the recipes from Las Pescas are mine. But I suppose anything created for Taco King will be yours?”
Ramón nodded. “Yes, exactly. Any recipe you currently use will not be owned by our restaurant. But you will create new recipes that we can use in all our locations. You will be a sort of test kitchen. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes. That’s fair. Would you like to discuss my ideas for the menu?”
“Not exactly.” Ramón’s eyes raked over her, dropping to her breasts. He gave her a mischievous smile.
Julieta’s nerves tingled. But she hated her body for betraying the way she felt toward him.
After he finally looked away, he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a leather folder. He then took out a super expensive-looking pen and began to write notes.
“Then what?”
Ramón finally focused his attention back on Julieta. “Well, first, I’m going to watch you.”
Julieta instinctively clasped her hand to her chest. Ramón made those words seem dirty. Julieta couldn’t decide if he pissed her off or made her excited. She settled on both. “Watchme? Why?”
“I’m analyzing the output. I’m going to sit here and count how many customers come in, see what they order, how long they spend here, how much they spend here. It will help me formulate my business plan.”
Julieta rolled her eyes. Boring. How could this ever work? He operated based on numbers; she was guided by her feelings.
“Is there a problem, Julieta?”
“Yes, Ramón, actually there is. You can’t judge a restaurant bynumbers and data alone. You have to experience it with all five senses.” She pulled her chair closer to his. Without hesitating, she picked up his fork, shoved some food on it, and lifted it to his mouth. “Taste the food.” He readily opened his lips, and she fed him. This moment felt intimate, yet scary.
She lifted a small bowl of salsa to his nostrils. “Smell the spices. Listen to the laughter of the patrons and the music over the speakers. Touch the embroidered place mats and chairs. See the art on the wall. This may be a business to you, but this place is my life. Mi vida.”
Ramón paused for a moment and just stared at Julieta, grinning. He then slowly looked around the restaurant, his eyes lingering over the many details that Julieta had spent years cultivating.
He placed the cap on the pen and slid it into its holder in the folder, which he then closed and put into his briefcase. “Fine, you are right. Let me rephrase that question. Where should we start?”
Julieta beamed. “In the kitchen. I’ll get you an apron.”
Chapter Fifteen
Julieta threw Ramón an apron. He tied it on and walked over to the sink to wash his hands.
“Have you ever worked in a kitchen?” she asked.
Ramón rolled his eyes. “Yes, Chef, I have. I didn’t just wake up one day and become the CEO of Montez Group. I spent my teen years working in Taco Kings. I was never that good at it, though. That was more my brother Enrique’s thing—he wanted to be a chef for a while. He’s still an excellent cook, but he’s an artisan farmer now.”
Julieta tilted her head, revealing her sexy neck. Ramón wanted to plant kisses on it. Keeping their interaction professional was easier said than done.
“Wow. Where is his farm?”
“He has a few acres out in Encinitas.”
