Just a Taste Read Free Page A

owner,” Natalie deduced.
    “No doubt.” Vivi tugged Natalie’s sleeve and began pulling her toward the door. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.”
    Natalie looked appalled. “What, now ?”
    “Yes, why not?”
    “Let’s wait half an hour or so. Otherwise, it will look like we were standing here spying on him.”
    “We were!”
    The sisters laughed.
    “Half an hour, then,” Vivi agreed. Then she’d get to meet the first of her neighbors. She couldn’t wait.

Chapter 2
    “H ello. Can I help you?”
    Vivi smiled at the handsome, rugged man standing in the doorway of Dante’s Ristorante. He seemed slightly shorter than the man they’d seen enter just half an hour before. His expression was typically American: open and friendly. She felt reassured that her decision to open a bistro here rather than Paris, or even back home in Avignon, was the right one.
    Vivi shot a quick sideways glance at Natalie to see if she wanted to field the man’s question, but it was obvious from Natalie’s ramrod posture that Vivi would be the one doing the talking. She was glad. Natalie could come across as imperious at first. Better she handle the initial introductions.
    “My name is Vivi Robitaille, and this is my ha—my sister, Natalie.” She pointed across the street. “We purchased the old candy store, and we just wanted to introduce ourselves.”
    The man looked delighted. “You’re French, right?”
    “Oui,” said Vivi.
    “I love your accent.” The man extended his hand. “My name’s Michael Dante. I’m half owner of this place with my brother, Anthony.”
    Vivi hesitated slightly. “Is he the tall man who arrived earlier?”
    Michael laughed. “Yeah, that’s Ant, all right. He’s the head chef.”
    “I’m a chef, too!” Vivi said excitedly. “I would very much love to speak with him!”
    “Come on in,” said Michael, holding the door open wide. The inside of the restaurant surprised Vivi; it was much larger than it appeared from the outside. There were various-sized tables and a long, sleek wooden bar. Beyond the sea of tables was yet another dining room, probably used for private parties. Vivi took it as a good sign that a restaurant this large was thriving in the neighborhood. Natalie would say it was because it served Italian food in an Italian enclave, but Vivi had been working in restaurants long enough to know there was more to it than that. For a place this large to do well year in, year out, the food had to be outstanding.
    Michael pointed to an empty table for four. “Have a seat. I’ll go get my brother.”
    “Actually, could I see the kitchen?” Vivi could feel Natalie’s eyes chastising her for being so pushy, but she didn’t care.
    “Sure, no problem. Just don’t be surprised if Anthony’s got his head stuck in a pot of sauce and he’s less than cordial. He can be a little intense sometimes.”
    “All chefs are,” Vivi said.
    Michael looked thoughtful. “I guess you’re right. You couldn’t even talk to our father when he was in the middle of ‘mangia making,’ as he used to call it. He’d either bite your head off, or give you a chore and tell you to get busy.”
    Vivi laughed. “Sounds familiar.”
    Michael smiled, motioning for Vivi and her sister to follow him. Vivi ventured another quick glance at Natalie, who was clearly displeased that they weren’t remaining in the dining room.
    “Ten minutes,” Natalie whispered in a warning voice. “That’s it. I know how rapturous you get at the sight of industrial-sized gas ranges and Sub-Zero freezers! I don’t want to be here all day!”
    “We won’t be,” Vivi promised, though nothing would make her happier. She could feel the anticipation building inside her as Michael nudged open the swinging stainless steel doors of the kitchen with his hip. Vivi held her breath, her mouth falling open at the sight of the huge, well-lit, well-ventilated kitchen. It was as though Saint Peter had just permitted her to pass through