“I’d have to get it cleared. Do you really think you should go out? You have another big day ahead of you. You need to be at your best.”

“Heck yeah. We’re in New York City, and I just won the first round of this competition. It’s a meal. Come on. Humor me.”

“I can ask. Anywhere specific in mind?”

He remembered Francois introducing him to the owner and chef at a place here in New York. “How about 2520?”

Lori laughed. “That place is booked at least four months out. We couldn’t get in there if we tried.”

“Tell them Francois Dumont’s head chef is in town and would like a table.”

“Let me clear it with production first. If they say it’s okay, then I’ll call the restaurant.”

“Deal.”

She called in the request to production, then hung up and dialed 2520 and spoke to the maître d’.

“Ah-ha!” Andrew was looking forward to this.

He could tell she didn’t expect to get a table, but she dropped his name and Francois’ like he’d told her to.

She hung up the phone and gave him the stink eye.

Maybe it hadn’t worked.

“Son of a gun,” she said. “I guess you are somebody special. Production laughed when I asked them if we could go there, but said if we could score a table we could go. You know this is on your dime, right?”

“Oh yeah, not a problem.”

“Excellent. I’ve always wondered what that place was like.”

“Tonight you’ll find out.”

She reached up and hit the button for the speaker to the driver. “We’re not going to go back just yet. Please take us to 2520. It seems we have a reservation.”

Andrew sat back in the seat as if on top of the world. He might actually be able to win this thing.

He stared out the window, enjoying the triumph.

Then someone on the sidewalk caught his eye.

“Whoa!” He slapped the window, and opened the door. “Stop!”

“What are you doing?” Lori grabbed his arm.

“Make him stop the car.”

“Stop,” Lori yelled to the driver. “You,” she said to Andrew. “You calm down.”

“I can’t. Wait right here.” He jumped out of the limo and cars honked as he raced to the sidewalk, dodging people. “Kelly!”

She turned around, her mouth dropping open. “Andrew?”

“I knew that was you,” he said, huffing and puffing. “What are you doing here?”

The woman with her squeezed her arm.

“There…there was a fire at the resort down in Orlando,” Kelly said. “My friend Brenda was there. RBA sent us up here as a consolation prize. It’s been crazy. We just arrived.”

“Hi,” Brenda said, shaking his hand. “We were headed to dinner.”