“I know who’s interested. They’ll never cut you in for that much of the profit.”

“True enough, but their restaurants are successful. A smaller percentage of something is better than a big chunk of nothing.”

“This could make you a star,” he said. “People would notice.”

“People already notice.”

He wanted to tell her she wasn’t all that special. That he could name five chefs who would do as good a job. The problem was he couldn’t. In the past three years, Penny had made a name for herself. He needed that to dig The Waterfront out of its hole.

“I’ll have the agreement couriered over to your place tomorrow afternoon,” he said.

She practically purred her contentment. “Good.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. I won’t even mind working for you because every time you piss me off, I’m going to remind you that you came looking for me. That you needed me.”

Revenge. He respected that. It annoyed him, but he respected it.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked as she picked up a pecan. “You got out of the family business years ago.”

Back when they’d been married, he thought. He’d escaped, only to be dragged in again.

“Someone had to save the sinking ship,” he said.

“Yes, but why you? You don’t care about the family empire.”

He threw twenty dollars on the table and slid out of the booth. “I’ll need your answer within twenty-four hours of you getting the contract.”

“You’ll have it the following morning.”

“Fair enough.” He dropped a business card next to the money. “In case you need to get in touch with me.”

He walked out of the restaurant and headed for his car. Penny was going to say yes. She would screw with him a little, but the deal was too good for her to pass up. If she pulled it off, if she made The Waterfront what it had once been, then in three years she would have more than enough capital to start her own place.