“That’s a good point,” Dodd says. “I’m sure your customers would follow you anywhere. But with a new setting, a staff, and better kitchen gear, I’m sure you’d agree that a few modifications in what you serve would make sense.”

Okay, I feel the brakes kicking in. “So it wouldn’t be the ‘same great menu’ then, would it?”

“Of course it would be the same great menu,” Dodd says. “It would be expanded some, with just a few minor … upgrades.”

Marlene is keeping quiet, which is quite unusual. I shift in my seat and think of something just as important as our menu.

“How might financing work?” I ask as Marlene picks up her wineglass. “We’re making a comfortable profit running the truck, but we’re not getting rich. I assume you’d help fund this brick-and-mortar venture?”

“Certainly,” Dodd assures us. “Typically, when I partner with a chef or existing brand, I provide up to fifty percent capitalization for a sixty-six percent company stake.”

Marlene nearly snorts red wine through her nose.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says, putting her glass down. “You’d only be ponying up half the cash, but walking away with two-thirds of the profits?”

Dodd’s reply is a bit condescending. “A joint venture with the Dodd Restaurant Group offers enormous opportunities for growth and exposure. I think the deal structure is more than fair.”

Yeah, right. Marlene’s eyes look like they’re ready to start shooting lightning bolts at our smooth and gracious host.

“Well, let us think about it,” I say, blotting my mouth with my napkin, even though I know full well Marlene and I have zero intention of going into business with this guy. I remember a line from one of my high school English classes, how Satan once said he’d rather reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. I’m no Satan, but I’d rather rule from my steamy hot food truck than serve with this guy in air-conditioned comfort.

“Of course,” he says, still all smiles and oozing politeness. “Please take as much time as you’d like. Here’s my business card. That’s my personal number. Feel free to call with any other questions. Or stop in anytime if you’d like to—”

A sudden crash of plates and glasses echoes from across the restaurant.

Dodd swivels his head to the source. And in an instant, his cheery if slippery demeanor transforms into rage.

“For God’s sake!” he yells, storming over to the poor server, who’s on her hands and knees picking up broken pieces of china and glass.