He'd just accepted about $2 million to shut down a restaurant he'd run since 1969 and leave a piece of prime property in South Tampa. Sure, the steakhouse that made him a restaurant icon in Tampa would be knocked down and replaced by a construction supply company.

But the boom times were on, and after decades of long days and nights, Malio could retire and pay back debts, including a big debt to Yankees owner George Steinbrenner.

Malio thought maybe he would dabble in another restaurant, or help his son Derek in the business, but nothing too big. "I was retiring," Malio says. "I bought a house on St. Pete Beach."

Unfortunately, fate had other plans for Malio. Fortune came calling again, and so did cancer.

Malio has always been a jovial character who has never met a stranger. He's quick to give a firm handshake that pulls you in tight for a hug.

He still drags anyone he meets into the kitchen so they can meet his chef of 22 years and to sample nibbles of steak right off the grill. He still makes you promise to come back soon so he can "Show you the works – give you the old Cha, Cha, Cha."

Sitting amid his new restaurant in the Rivergate Tower building in downtown Tampa, Malio can look back now and divulge just why he was so happy to close his old restaurant back in 2005.

With a historic housing boom going on, the Masonite Corp. door-making company was outgrowing its office space a few blocks away on Dale Mabry Highway, and it offered Malio nearly $2 million cash to vacate the restaurant property so it could build an expanded office.

Plus, Malio says, Masonite agreed to pay $250,000 a year in rent for 10 years, with rent doubling after that, plus an option to buy the property for at least $5.5 million.

Leaving the business wasn't easy. Malio adored the employees, many of whom he refused to let leave every night without a hug and kiss on the cheek.

The steakhouse had loyal, celebrity customers like former Buccaneers head coach John McKay, Cincinnati Reds catcher Johnny Bench, movie star Burt Reynolds and even reputed mobster Santo Trafficante.

Restaurant work was grueling, however, and most nights Malio stayed through the cleanup and didn't leave until 4 a.m., only to return for the lunch shift the next morning.

Selling seemed a blessing.

"We took care of the key owners of the restaurant," Malio says, paid bonuses to employees and helped many of them find new jobs in other restaurants around town.

He also paid off a debt of $1 million to Steinbrenner for his stake in the restaurant, where Steinbrenner came so often that Malio reserved a private booth for him with a telephone line to make calls.

Everything seemed fine, Malio said, almost. The takeover giant Kohlberg Kravis Roberts acquired Masonite in April 2005.

The restaurant came down, but Masonite held off construction on a building. Masonite stopped paying rent, Malio said.

A lawyer for KKR called Malio, and Malio gave them one month's grace period, then another month, then an ultimatum: Pay up or go away. Masonite went away.

Officials for Masonite were not available for comment.

A series of other tenants signed deals to develop the property, and paid rent, but none materialized into a new facility.

Meanwhile, representatives from the iconic Rivergate Towers building called Malio and asked if he'd like to put a restaurant there.

"It all depends on the numbers, I told them," Malio said, and if his son Derek was interested in running operations.

The building owners returned with an enticing offer: Building out a kitchen and two-story restaurant from the blank, stone lobby cost upwards of $3 million, most of which they would pay.

Malio and Derek agreed to give the project a try. Then one day Malio, who turns 68 Sept. 30, got a sore throat.

He thought it was a cold, but his wife, Shirley, said his voice sounded strange and made him see a doctor.

"They put a scope down my throat," Malio says. Then, twisting his fingers into a tangled pretzel shape he says "They saw a tumor wrapped all the way around my vocal cords."

This was not how he envisioned retirement.

He was rushed to Moffitt and underwent delicate surgery that left him with both a deep pit on the front of his throat and a permanently raspy voice. Still, the surgery worked, and Malio thanks God, and the surgeons.

Amid all this, the new restaurant opened in autumn 2006, and managers for the Rivergate Tower opened underground parking so Malio could offer free parking to customers – solving one riddle that long plagued downtown restaurants.

The new place is less of a circus to manage than the old Malio's. There are no ballrooms for lavish parties that last all night. There are just 200 seats instead of the 450, and there's a much more modern, sleek décor, as opposed to the wood-grained clubiness of the old restaurant.

Malio leaves most of the operations to his Derek, and comes in for a few hours on Saturdays and Mondays to check on things and chat with customers calling for reservations.

The restaurant is profitable and doing well selling both gourmet lunch burgers for downtown office workers, and high-end steaks, like a chateaubriand for two for $49.

There are private rooms named for long-time friends who come by the new place: Former San Francisco 49ers owner Eddie DeBartolo and former Rays manager Lou Piniella, plus brass plates in some booths for locals like Derrick Brooks and call-center mogul John Sykes.

"The first booth as you walk in on the right, you'll see my name right there," said John Oliva, president of the Oliva Tobacco Company who has known Malio since kindergarten.

Oliva went to the old Malio's at least four times a month for dinner and several times a week for lunch, he said, and probably shows up at the new restaurant that often now.

"He knows everybody. But if it's your first time there, you'll leave feeling like you've been friends forever. That's the way he is."

If all goes according to plan, by this December the original Malio's property will be sold – for good this time – to make way for an LA Fitness health club.

Malio declines to say the exact purchase price, as the deal isn't signed yet, but it's plenty for him to retire – again.