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When they discovered that the audience’s—half a million subscribers and growing!—favorite episodes were the ones where Casey crashed and burned in a major way, they’d added another feature: Any viewer who wanted to pay a premium could request a particular recipe. They’d done two so far, and the response had been fantastic.
And they’d channeled all the proceeds into the venture that was launching today.
“Are you nervous?” he asked her.
“Not really.” She smiled at Dev when he held the door for her. “Are you?”
Casey nodded, but when she frowned, he held up both hands. “Not about your part. I know you’ll be brilliant. I’m just worried that nobody will discover that brilliance. I want this to work.”
Dev captured both their hands. “It will. You’ve each done a terrific job with promotion. Aren’t Summer Kitchen’s sessions booked solid from now until April?”
“Well.” Casey crossed his fingers lest he jinx them. “Yes.”
“And vendors have already started calling for spots in next summer’s Home Grown?”
“Yeeesss.” He’d had three messages waiting on his phone when he woke up today, making that an even dozen this week alone and it was only Tuesday.
“And isn’t Shira begging you to partner with the resort and make the antique fair a joint annual event after Bradley bailed on her?”
Casey gave Dev a narrow-eyed look. “Also yes. But this is different.”
“Don’t think of it as different. Think of it as…. as Home growing. It’ll be great.” He kissed Casey softly. “I’ll stake my town management career on it.”
“I’d feel much better about that if you actually wanted a town management career,” Casey said tartly.
“You know,” Dev said as they headed down Main Street, “it’s actually… growing on me.”
Casey rolled his eyes. “Don’t quit your day jobs, Dev. Music and town management are one thing, but your stand-up chops need serious work.”
Dev just laughed, but as they cut between the Market and the Historical Society, Casey held his breath until they stepped out onto East Road.
Then he choked when he tried to inhale into lungs already full.
The road in front of Ty’s clinic/shelter was full of people, the crowd spilling off the sidewalk in front of their destination: a neat, clapboard bungalow that until six weeks ago had been empty. But now, a rainbow Grand Opening banner was swagged over its wide plate-glass front window. The hand-lettered wooden sign above its double front doors was a collaboration between Kenny and the Artists United co-op:
Home Cooking.
And beneath it in smaller letters: Open for breakfast and lunch, seven days a week.
Dev smiled down at Casey. “See? What did I tell you?”
“Oh my god.” Casey clutched Dev’s hand with both of his, belly tumbling. “We’ve only got fifteen tables. How are we going to fit everybody in?”
Sylvia gave a contented sigh. “Same as at any popular restaurant. First come, first served. And since it’s time to let the first diners in, you’ll both need to excuse me. I’m sure Deborah’s got things well in hand, but I want to lend my support.” She strode off down the street, cutting down the alley to reach the kitchen entrance.
Casey leaned into Dev. “You think it’ll really work?”
Dev tucked Casey closer against his side. “Home hasn’t had a restaurant since the Inn closed. The locals will support it during the off-season, and the tourists will flock here in the fall and summer. Who knows? We might get the ski crowd in the winter too, if the roads don’t get too bad.” He placed a finger under Casey’s chin and tilted his head up. “It’s a good thing you did, Casey.”
Casey met Dev’s loving gaze. “It wasn’t just me. It was all of us. And it won’t take one restaurant, one successful festival, or even the surge in Summer Kitchen’s popularity to save Home. Not entirely.”
“Maybe not.” Dev took Casey’s hand and drew him toward the restaurant. “But it’s a start. Now let’s go have breakfast. I’m pretty sure Sylvia saved us a table.”
