On Wednesday, the day before my first real dinner date with Dante, everything changes.

It starts like any normal day. I'm in the bakery early, getting my recipes organized for the day, when Jilly comes bouncing in. Rather than go straight for her apron, she stops right in front of my workstation.

"Is it true?" she says. "Are you really dating Dante Fontaine?"

I look up from the flour. "What? Where did you hear that?"

"The same place the ...