“I can’t believe this,” I say between bites. “Why aren’t you serving this in the bar?”
“We don’t have a license to serve food,” Jo says. “We don’t even have a proper kitchen.”
“Build one,” I say.
“Hush,” Jo says, shaking her head.
“Now, wait a second, that’s not a bad idea,” Penny says. She leans forward against the table.
“Things are going so well at the bar lately, we could really use this momentum and make plans to build an addition,” Knox says.
“Hold on, this is crazy,” Jo says. “We just barely got back on our feet. We can’t afford to build an addition right now. And do you know how much is involved with starting a restaurant? There are all kinds of codes to meet, inspections, permits.”
“I’m not saying it would be easy, I’m just saying you could make a fortune selling food like this,” I say. “It would be worth it. People would drive a hundred miles to get a taste of these ribs.”
Jo’s face flushes a dark crimson and she lowers her head to her hand. “Seriously, you guys, don’t be ridiculous.” She looks up and holds her palm out toward Rob. “Tell ‘em, Daddy. This is crazy, right?”
Rob’s eyes are sparkling, and I smile. He’s on board, I can tell.
“It’s not a bad idea, pumpkin,” he says. “Think about it. We could put together a whole menu of your favorite recipes. Heck, we could even open up for lunch.”
“That would take an entire renovation,” she says. “We’d have to close the whole place down, get permits from the city, hire a contractor, go through inspections just to make sure the kitchen’s clean. We’d also have to hire more employees like an extra cook and some servers. I couldn’t be in there cooking all day by myself.”
“Oh, I see what the problem is,” Knox says, threading his fingers together and narrowing his eyes at her. “You just don’t want to have to share your recipes with someone else.”
She smiles and tosses a fresh piece of bread toward his head. She aims too high and it goes sailing off into the dirt several feet behind him.
“You guys are just ganging up on me now,” she says. Then she turns to me, her eyes focused in on mine. “This is all your fault Colton Tucker.”
I smile. “I’ll gladly take the blame if it means you actually take this under consideration.”
“You can’t really think this food is good enough to open a restaurant,” she says.
“I do,” I say, completely serious. “It’s some of the best food I’ve ever tasted in my life. You could really have something here.”
“I agree,” Preston says. “This is amazing.”
She takes in a breath and runs a hand over her hair. It’s pulled back in a loose ponytail today.
“You did try to start a catering company,” Leigh Anne says. “So it’s not totally out of the ballpark, right?”
“I tried, but it was just too much to keep up with,” she says. “Too much to do on my own and work the bar at nights, too. I couldn’t manage it all. All I’m doing is a few small jobs a month, nothing significant.”
“If you open a restaurant right at the bar, it would be so much easier to manage than trying to advertise and drum up business. Much less having to cart everything off to different locations for catering jobs,” I say. “This could really be something special, Jo. I’m not joking around. You should really think about it.”
“I don’t even know where we’d get the money,” she says.
“I’ll invest,” Knox says. “I can even agree to be your contractor, if you want. I can bring in a few of the guys who have been working for me lately, and we could build the addition ourselves. Make sure everything is done just right.”
“I bet my dad would be interested in investing in a new restaurant here in town,” Preston says. “Just say the word. We could probably help swing all those permits you were talking about.”
Jo meets my eyes again and shakes her head. She’s trying to hide it, but a smile breaks out on her lips. She ducks her head again and laughs.
“This is a crazy idea,” she says.
I clean the rest of my plate and watch her. I’ve never seen her look so happy and vulnerable, as if this is something risky but worthwhile.
“Maria’s going to kill you for suggesting this,” Leigh Anne says, joking about our old boss at Brantley’s. “More