Shawna slid forward on the seat and stared wide-eyed through the tinted windows.
"Doug tried to get us in here before he left, but the waiting list is two months long.
You can walk up, but the wait can be hours and there's no guarantee you'll be seated."
The limo door opened and Angus helped her out, then me.
Gideon joined us, taking my arm as if we were dressed for a gala and not a rock concert.
We were escorted inside so quickly, with the manager being so gushy and welcoming, that I looked at Gideon and mouthed, One of yours? "Yes, in partnership."
I just sighed, reconciled to the inevitable.
"Is your friend going to meet us for dinner?" Gideon gestured with an easy nod of his chin.
"He's already here."
I followed his gaze to an attractive man sporting blue jeans and a Six- Ninths T-shirt.
The gentleman was acting as the focal point in a photo op with two pretty women on each side.
He smiled wide for the person wielding a smartphone camera, then waved at Gideon and excused himself.
"Oh my God."
Shawna bounced on her feet.
"That's Arnoldo Ricci! He owns this place.
And he's got a show on the Food Network!" Gideon released me to clasp hands with Arnoldo and engage in the backslapping ritual of close male friends.
"Arnoldo, my girlfriend, Eva Tramell."
I extended my hand and Arnoldo grabbed it, pulled me closer, and kissed me straight on the mouth.
"Back off," Gideon snapped, tugging me behind him.
Arnoldo grinned, his dark eyes flashing with humor.
"And who's this vision?" he asked, turning to Shawna and lifting her hand to his lips.
"Shawna, this will be your escort, Arnoldo Ricci, if he manages to survive dinner."
Gideon shot his friend a warning look.
"Arnoldo, Shawna Ellison."
She practically glowed.
"My boyfriend's a huge fan of yours.
I am, too.
He made your lasagna recipe once and it was.
To.
Die.