“That’s what Henry said,” Annabel replied. She gazed up at me, and I nodded in accord. All of us were influenced by the same man. He had taught the beauty of cooking and plating food to Henry and Griffin. I inherited his desire to be surrounded by visual beauty.

“What would our readers be most surprised to learn about you, Griffin?” Annabel asked. Griffin thought about this one for a minute. He must be in a reflective mood this morning. “I read poetry,” he said, and I smiled. “Rumi and Mary Oliver are favorites.”

“I’m drawing a blank,” Annabel said.

“She was a poet … ” Griffin reflected again, looking at me, remembering.

“Of the three, which is your favorite restaurant?”

“I think I’m most at home at VERT. Don’t you agree, Bae?”

At this, Annabel put her pen down. He had her full attention. “Bae? You call Bailey that? Is that her nickname? I never pictured you for an ‘on trend’ kind of guy.”

Griffin, confused, looked back at me for clarification. I moved into the circle of conversation. I sat on the arm of the sofa next to him.

“What is she talking about, Bae?” All those times Annabel and I had sat at the bar, Griffin was mostly silent, and Annabel did most of the talking. I took charge.

“Well, Griffin, nowadays the kids use ‘Bae’ as a term for best friend, like BFF. It literally means ‘before anyone else.’ Like I tell you my secrets before anyone else. I do things with you before anyone else—”

Griffin interrupted looking squarely into my eyes. “But you kind of are that, aren’t you?” My heart softened, quickened, and stopped all at the same time. It was a delicately beautiful moment I had no intention of sharing with greater Atlanta.

In all the years of doing these interviews, Griffin was about to have an unguarded moment of candor. Annabel was our friend, but she was a journalist first, and I just could not let her write a story titled, “The Mixologist and His Muse.” My heart had barely repaired itself. I was not ready to go public. I loved him so much at this moment.

I stepped up. “Hell, Annabel, sitting at the bar, I’m everybody’s best friend!” They both laughed. My breath had been suspended for minutes now. I exhaled. Griffin got up and poured another cup of coffee. He leaned into the doorframe.

Annabel turned her attention to me. “Was this always your vision for VERT?”

“Actually, my vision evolved over time, and I adapted. Just like with lots of things, it’s all about adaptability. Henry adapts his menu to trends, and Griffin introduces cutting-edge drinks. Vision is a lot like maturity. It improves over time.” My serious side burst through.

“Well said. You’re a vintage shopper. What are some of your favorite places?”