Alex frowned at her. "So what crawled up your butt and died?"

She pointed at the paper on the desk.

“Fucking Cordon Bleu isn't taking any more students. They're closing all their American locations."

“Closing?" Alex's voice was incredulous.

“How does an entire chain of culinary schools close?"

"They're a for-profit chain," Sarah growled. "Apparently the profits weren't big enough. Or even there. Supposedly they were losing a crap-ton of money."

"So how badly is this going to screw up your plans?"

She sighed and turned over onto her back. "Not too badly. It's not as if we were talking about the real Cordon Bleu. The one in France. But the name still has...what do you call it?"

"Mojo?" Alex suggested.

She blew a raspberry at him, then snapped her fingers. "Cachet. That's the word. People around here see that name and they think it's something special."

“So where will you go?"

“Kendall College, I guess," she said. "It's on the north side of the

Loop," she continued, naming the area of downtown Chicago where most of the skyscrapers and multi-national corporations were located.

“I can ride in on the Burlington Northern out of Downers Grove. Then take the

Blue Line up there. Or I could drive in if I can find parking. But I don't want to leave home yet," she said in a small voice. "I'm not moving out.

“It's got the best culinary school in the area,” she said in a firmer tone. "Which means it's the best I can go to. Unless I want to move to some place like New York or Paris, and that's not happening. My French is good enough for high school. Not a French culinary school."

“Don't sell yourself short, Sarah," her brother said. His face was uncharacteristically tender. "You're smart as hell. Besides," he said with a smile, "if anyone can take down a bunch of snooty Frenchmen, it's you."

“Snooty?”

"Snooty," he affirmed with a nod, grinning.

Sarah stared at him. "What's wrong with you?" she asked. "You actually look... happy."

“No reason," he said, but he blushed and wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Oh my God," she said. "You got laid, didn't you?" She grinned as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Who was it? One of the girls in the play? What was the name of the girl you said was playing Desdemona?

Lucy or Linda or something like that? You told me a couple of weeks ago you thought she was cute."

“No, not one of the girls at COD," he said.

“Well, who, then?" she demanded, frustrated by his reticence. "You haven't gone out with anyone for weeks. What did you do, knock on