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She shrugged. “I know the owner.”
“Ahh, I see.”
“What do you see?”
“A man owns it, right?”
JoJo sputtered out a laugh.
“So, you think because a man owns it, he let me in because I’m a woman? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, a man does own it, but he’s only a friend.”
“Okay.”
A few minutes later, their server returned carrying a large round tray and a tray stand, then set the stand-up, placed the tray on it, then put their dinners on the table.
“Enjoy your meals. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Yes, sir,” Brett said.
“It smells great,” JoJo smiled at the server.
“Yes, ma’am. Sir.” The server left them.
JoJo cut into her steak, then speared a piece and put it in her mouth. She moaned when the flavor hit her tongue.
“Good?”
“Fantastic. Try yours.” She pointed at his plate with her knife.
He cut a piece off a porkchop, put it into his mouth, chewed, and groaned.
“Damn, that’s so good,” he said after swallowing.
“Told you.” JoJo smiled and cut into her steak. “What do you do, Brett?”
“I’m an architect.”
“How long have you done that?”
“Since I was twenty-two. Twelve years.”
“You’re thirty-four?”
“Yeah, why? Too old for you?”
JoJo laughed. “No. I’m twenty-seven. How did you get into that?”
“My uncle on my mother’s side is an architect. I spent a good bit of time with him when I was a kid, and I loved watching him draw up the plans.”
“I bet he’s proud of you.”
“He is.” Brett cut into his porkchop.
“Do you need a degree for that?”
