Red Lobster is exiting its Chapter 11 bankruptcy after a federal judge approved the seafood restaurant chain’s restructuring plan Thursday — four months after the company first announced it had filed for bankruptcy.

It’s a glimmer of good news for the business, which has faced a series of struggles including huge amounts of debt and location closures and several bad business decisions by previous leaders — including its famous $20 all-you-can-eat-shrimp promotion.

As part of the company’s restructuring plan, a group of investors under the name RL Investor Holdings LLC will acquire the Red Lobster restaurant chain. The acquisition is expected to close before the end of September, the company announced. Red Lobster will also bring on Damola Adamolekun as the new CEO. Jonathan Tibus, who served as the company’s CEO during the reorganization, is set to step down and leave the company.

“This is a great day for Red Lobster,” Adamolekun said in a statement. “With our new backers, we have a comprehensive and long-term investment plan – including a commitment of more than $60 million in new funding – that will help to reinvigorate the iconic brand while keeping the best of its history.”

After closing a series of locations during its financial issues, Red Lobster still operates 544 locations across the U.S. and Canada — down from its roughly 580 restaurants four months ago.

The money troubles also forced Red Lobster to sell off its defunct locations’ equipment — a situation that comedian John Oliver took advantage of.

Oliver, who heads the HBO news show Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, announced in a June episode that his show bought all of the kitchen equipment and furniture from an upstate New York Red Lobster New York at auction, then used those items to create his own look-a-like Red Lobster in his studio that sold only the chain’s famous Cheddar Bay biscuits.

RIO DE JANEIRO — Sérgio Mendes, the Grammy-winning Brazilian musician whose hit “Mas Que Nada” made him a global legend, has died after months battling the effects of long COVID. He was 83.

The death Thursday of the Brazilian pianist, songwriter and arranger was confirmed in a statement by his family.

“His wife and musical partner for the past 54 years, Gracinha Leporace Mendes, was by his side, as were his loving children,” the statement Friday said. “Mendes last performed in November 2023 to sold out and wildly enthusiastic houses in Paris, London and Barcelona.”

His composition “Mas Que Nada” was one of the songs that helped popularize the Brazilian music genre bossa nova worldwide in the 1960s.

In 2006, a modern version of the song topped U.S. charts, as performed by Black Eyed Peas. It was included in his album “Timeless,” produced by will.i.am and featuring Stevie Wonder, Justin Timberlake and the Black Eyed Peas, among others.

“Sergio Mendes was my brother from another country,” trumpet player Herb Alpert wrote on Facebook, along with a photo from decades ago, sitting next to Mendes at the piano. “He was a true friend and extremely gifted musician who brought Brazilian music in all its iterations to the entire world with elegance.”

Mendes also composed the soundtrack for the film “Pelé,” featuring saxophonist Gerry Mulligan, and even produced an album recorded by the Brazilian legendary soccer player.

Mendes won the 1992 Grammy Award for Best World Music Album for “Brasileiro” and two Latin Grammy Awards. He also received an Oscar nomination in 2012 for Best Original Song for “Real in Rio,” from the animated film “Rio.”

Mendes’ family said they will provide details regarding funeral and memorial services at a later date.

Jay and I matched on Hinge the night I was going to delete my account. His profile painted a picture of intellect and being well-traveled, active and fun. His messages were witty, and he knew how to keep the conversation going. I was more invested in getting to sleep, so I eventually replied with a question and logged off.

When I didn’t hear from him the next day, I deleted my account as planned, disappearing from our conversation. Days later, I received a connection request and message from Jay on LinkedIn. He was traveling for work, and when he went back on Hinge, he thought he had accidentally deleted our match and panicked. He was relieved to see that a search for my name and occupation led to my profile on LinkedIn.

I could have been creeped out, but instead it felt like old-school dating, when you’re in a room full of people and you see that one person you want to talk to. He looked for me, and I felt chosen.

On LinkedIn, we had mutual work connections, we were both in leadership and our careers intersected. I worked in animated films, and he worked in toys, producing children’s toys for characters in films I have worked on. “Given the intersection of our careers, shouldn’t we at least meet?” Jay asked.

We met at Brand Library & Art Center in Glendale. Within the first few minutes, I made a quirky remark about the library’s collection of music CDs that made him snort-laugh. As I was thinking, Did he just snort?, he said, “Great, I snorted. So much for first impressions.” The ice was broken.

We went from the library to a nearby bar. I was drawn to his smile and laugh, which were on display often. His sense of humor was in sync with mine, which is a much sought-after connection for me. I liked his quiet confidence. Conversation was natural and easy, not one-sided. We ended the evening with a hug and a “Let’s do it again.”

Our next date was playing pickleball immediately followed by dinner at the French bistro Entre Vous in Pasadena. I loved that we went from the court to the restaurant with zero expectation of having to change from our athletic wear. This man was winning points for not expecting me to get fancy for dinner.

A turning point for us was a date that started at Echo Park Lake. We rented a swan paddleboat on a picturesque day when we could see the downtown L.A. skyline with great clarity in the distance, with the water and fellow swan boats in the foreground. I felt completely myself without the self-consciousness that sometimes comes with those first few dates. After paddling, we took a leisurely stroll around the lake, twice. Our conversation got deep: previous trauma, relationships, vulnerabilities, outlook in life.

We talked about our last relationships. He was in a long-distance relationship for two years with a woman who lived in another state. She helped bring him out of a deep depression following his divorce. They talked of building a future together, she met his kids, she planned to relocate and move in with him. After a great first year, things fizzled. She became inconsistent in how she showed up to the relationship, and he ended it.

I asked if he still had feelings for her. “She is dead to me,” he said bluntly. This seemed harsher than his usual persona, so I clearly hit a nerve. But it was reassuring.

I talked about my regrettable three-year relationship with a man who was a prolific liar when it came to other women and was completely devoid of emotional support when it mattered most. Jay listened intently as I shared my journey of understanding why I stayed with a man who came into the relationship waving red flags.

During that walk with Jay, I felt more seen, heard and supported than I had in the entire relationship with my ex-boyfriend. After shaking off the seriousness of our conversation, we drove to Barnsdall Art Park for a picnic. “Rise” by Herb Alpert came on in the car. Jay turned up the volume and rolled down the windows, and we cruised up to the park like teenage sweethearts pulling into high school. The song became the first in our soundtrack. “Suddenly” by Billy Ocean would later join it as the song we slow-danced to in Jay’s kitchen while both chuckling at how ridiculously corny the scene was and wondering if anyone in the hills of Highland Park could see us.

It was an exciting two months. We could talk shop. He valued my work experience and expertise, turning to me when he had what he called WWBD (What Would Bernie Do) moments. I exposed him to new hikes. He taught me how to cook Mediterranean dishes. We saw live music and we laughed a lot. I even thought he was cute when he arrived for one of our hikes looking like a beekeeper with his wide-brimmed safari hat. He jokingly wondered how I’d allow myself to be seen with him looking like that, which made me like him even more.

Everything was great until his ex-girlfriend was resurrected from the ashes of “She is dead to me” with one phone call to Jay. She professed her love for him and owned up to the ills of her ways. He ended that call by telling her that he needed time to process their conversation.

To his credit, Jay told me about the call, and his resulting conflicted feelings. He said that by all accounts, he and I were more compatible and that I am smarter, funnier and in a better place in my career than his ex. But he valued the memories he had of their relationship, especially at its high point. I respected Jay for his honesty and transparency, but I was blindsided.

While teetering on the line between being supportive and standing my ground, I shared my thoughts simply: “I’m not going to pitch myself to you. This isn’t ‘The Bachelor.’ I don’t compete. I’m either the first choice or I’m not.” He asked for a night to think things through. While I already considered that to be a choice against what we had, I agreed.

Ultimately he chose his known history with his ex over the potential we had. I was heartbroken. It felt like I was unexpectedly hurled out of a roller coaster going full speed. It was tough to hear, but I understood.

I don’t know how the conversation with his ex went or if he eventually got on a plane for an in-person conversation or if they gave their relationship another go. It doesn’t matter.

Being with Jay showed me a partnership rooted in intellectual and emotional connection, belly laughs and honesty. Even if we had continued dating, it was too early to tell where things could have gone. All I know with utmost certainty is that I want the same deep connection we had, but with a man who will always choose me.

The author has been a Valley girl her entire adult life. In addition to having a day job, she is a freelance writer and creative director. She shares local outdoor inspiration on the Instagram account @h5tolife.

L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.