I’m sitting on a breezy brick patio with my four best friends, perusing a brunch menu as thick as a chapter of a med-school textbook. It’s a rare sunny Seattle Saturday, meaning every outdoor table at this restaurant is booked all day. But thanks to Aubree, the queen of reservations, we snagged a table with only a day’s notice.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to decide,” Elise says, running her finger down the extensive list of skillet options. “This place is unbelievable.”
“Yeah, Aubree.” Becca folds her arms over her chest. “Is there a reason you were keeping the best brunch spot in Seattle a secret from us?”
A half smile tugs at Aubree’s lips as she takes a good long sip of coffee, thinking over her response. “Honestly? Because if you knew this place existed, none of you would go to S
