“That sounds like a dream,” Tessa said. “Did you used to eat what was on the menu?”

“Anything we wanted. A lot of times there would be a big vat of something—like spaghetti or some frutti di mare or maybe even homemade pizza. It was fabulous.”

“Both our cultures appreciate food,” Tessa said.

“Well, except you French put four nuts on a plate and call it a meal.” He said it with a deliberate, mischievous twinkle in his eye.

She couldn’t let that one go. “And you Italians overflow your plates and go in for seconds.”

“We have pizza.” He sat back with a try-and-top-that expression.

“Crepes,” she countered.

“You French eat snails and call it food.”

“And you Italians douse your dishes in enough cheese to give a heart attack a heart attack.”

“Frog legs.”

Okay, this was war.

“Perrier,” she added.

“San Pellegrino,” he bit back.

“Champagne!”

“Chianti.”

“Paris.”

“Rome.”

She threw her hands in the air. “Okay, I give up. You are still so competitive,” she said. “But you work really hard, so I can’t be too mean.”

“I think competitive is…interesting. And you work just as hard.” He flashed a smile that made her stomach flip.

What was it about him? This back-and-forth, this going toe-to-toe. It was kind of…exhilarating. In a bizarre way.

Leo set down his wineglass with conviction. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to save our restaurant. Not just for my family. For me, too. I’m learning more from my dad than just running the business; I’m learning about the food. I know if he saw how successful my ideas could be, he’d change his mind and let me try some new things. I just have to find a way to convince him.”

“So why don’t you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Show him your ideas in action.”

“Tessa, he won’t let me do farm-to-table. Or create a delivery service. Or anything.”

“Have you thought about a trial run?”

“I’ve thought of just about everything.” He pinched his nose in frustration. “He keeps telling me no.”

“Then set something up privately. Like, showcase everything you can do on a small scale—just for him. And I’ll do the dessert. It will be like a proposal. Except not on paper but in person.”

Leo rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Tessa waved her hand over the table. “Leo, look what you’ve done here with this simple meal—you’ve taken all the details and created an experience. I can tell you’ve loved doing it. And I loved it, too. So we can give your dad an experience. Show him we’re serious.”

“Okay, you’ve got me thinking. I somehow have to get him to try something out of his comfort zone.”