Chapter 9 #2
The three of them headed up to the house, where Chloé took a quick shower and then told them she was heading down to get cooking. They were forbidden to sneak a look until she was done, and were told to maybe take a nap instead to rest their weary bodies.
Cheeky girl. But she wasn’t wrong. Maybe it was their age catching up with them, but after last night and this morning, they’d both been feeling the lack of sleep. So Zayne and Ethan did just that, crawled into bed and didn’t resurface until later that afternoon.
Shower complete, Zayne emerged from the en suite to the afternoon sun shining through the doors of their bedroom, and was surprised to see Ethan still up there, standing out on the balcony.
He pulled a hunter-green tee over his head and slicked his hand back through his hair as he walked outside to join Ethan.
“You didn’t have to wait,” Zayne said as he came to a stop at the rail.
Ethan turned and greeted him with a smile. He had his sunglasses on and, like Zayne’s, his hair was still damp from the shower. He leaned back against the balcony and slid his glasses up on top of his head.
“I know. But before we head down, I want to check in with you for a second.”
“Check in with me?” Zayne frowned. “About last night? I told you, I feel fine, and I more than enjoyed—”
“Not about last night. But I am happy to hear you enjoyed yourself.”
“Oh, okay. Then what’s up?”
“I wanted to check in with you about the senator.”
The senator? Jesus, talk about left field.
Zayne hadn’t heard or thought about his father since…well, since he’d publicly disowned him on national television. And since his mother did everything the senator told her to, he knew he wouldn’t hear from her either.
He should probably be more upset, but the truth was that his father had done Zayne a favor that day, and the fact he hadn’t reached out, or called to blackmail him about something, only solidified the fact that his father was well and truly gone from his— their —life.
And that was that, as far as he was concerned.
“I’m fine.”
Ethan’s eyes softened. “Are you sure? I know it’s been several weeks now and you haven’t heard anything. I wanted to give you space, but I need to know, are you okay?”
Zayne stepped closer and took one of Ethan’s hands in his. He placed it over his heart and looked Ethan dead in the eye.
“I’m okay.” He nodded. “I promise. You know how my family was. How that house was. It was never a home. It was cold, tomblike. He’d been dead to me for a long time—you know that.”
“I do. But I also know loss can creep up on us when we least expect it.”
“Maybe if there was something to lose. But you know how it was. I existed in that house like a shadow.”
“That’s so unfathomable to me.” Ethan placed a hand to Zayne’s cheek. “When you’re the very thing that lights up my world. You’ll never be alone again, never not have a place to come home to.”
“I know, and that’s why I’m okay.”
Ethan leaned in and brushed a kiss across his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And so does our girl downstairs. What do you say we head down and see what she’s cooking?”
Zayne nodded but didn’t let go of Ethan’s hand as they headed back inside and over to the elevator. He might’ve been okay with everything that had gone down with the senator, but he wasn’t ready to let go just yet of the one who grounded him.
* * *
THE DELICIOUS SMELL of French cuisine found them before the elevator even reached the ground floor, and Ethan wondered how in the world they were ever supposed to eat anything else again.
They were lucky enough to have eaten at some of the finest restaurants in the world, but something about watching Chloé weave her magic right before their very eyes had made it difficult to want anything else.
She was a master in the kitchen—they’d known that the first time they walked into JULIEN and ate there.
But after their trip to Paris, it had been confirmed.
So Ethan wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Julien was challenging her now.
He wanted to give his daughter every opportunity he could, and what better way than by showcasing her talents?
There was no doubt in Ethan’s mind that her fathers would one day leave the family business in her hands, no matter what the outcome was.
But this way she would feel she had earned whatever accolades came her way, rather than getting them handed to her on a silver platter. No matter how much they loved her.
His parents had been the same in that retrospect. They’d left the family business, the estate, all their property to him. But it was contingent on certain matters, like finishing his education and earning a degree.
So while he’d been resentful at first for being sent away to Kings Boarding School after they died, he understood now why they did it.
They’d wanted him to succeed. Wanted him to thrive even if they weren’t there to see it.
It would’ve been so easy for him to wallow away out here at the estate with all that money.
So easy to disappear from society and become a shell of a person.
But they’d made sure that wouldn’t happen. They’d sent him to a place where he would be watched over and guided—no matter what he wanted. A place where he ended up meeting Zayne.
Even in their passing they had been watching over him, and he knew that Chloé’s fathers were the same.
He recognized unconditional love when he saw it.
The pride in their eyes whenever she was in the room.
He saw joy and happiness, a family like he’d once had, and being around them reminded him of just how much he missed his.
He glanced at Zayne as they stepped free of the elevator, and wondered if he really was as okay about the senator as he was trying to represent.
Sure, having that vile man out of their lives was a relief to Ethan, but Zayne?
He was a sensitive soul. So kind and caring, which was crazy in itself, considering where he came from.
To think he wasn’t feeling the sting of rejection would be na?ve on Ethan’s part.
But he would respect Zayne’s feelings and keep an eye on him, just as he had since Paris, and if and when Zayne ever needed to talk about it, he and Chloé would be there for him.
“Whatever she’s working on, it smells heavenly in here.”
Zayne grinned. “I know. It’s making my stomach growl.”
Ethan chuckled as they made their way through the living area and down the hall. He could hear the sound of pots and pans moving around. When they stepped into the kitchen, the sight that greeted them had Ethan smiling from ear to ear.
Chloé was by the stove in a flirty pink blouse and denim capris, with her hair tied up in a haphazard bun and an apron secured at her waist.
She had a set of headphones on and was singing badly as she stirred the pot. She swayed on her feet to the beat as though it were a well-choreographed number—and, for all Ethan knew, it might’ve been.
She looked at home in the kitchen, and his mother would’ve loved seeing her there.
Ethan pulled up on that thought, all these memories of his family resurfacing after so many years having buried them.
He knew the cause—she was standing right in front of him.
It had been the same way when he fell for Zayne.
That innate desire to introduce them to his family, the other people he loved.
The only problem was they were no longer here. At least, not in person. So the memories came instead. They snuck up on him, reminding him of how much his mother loved cooking in here or how tall she wanted the magnolias to grow.
“Are you sure we’re allowed in here? She did say we were forbidden.”
Ethan turned at Zayne’s question to see a smile playing at his lips. “True. But that was hours ago.”
“But you know how some chefs are about stepping inside their kitchen while creating.”
“Do I?”
“ Yes . You’ve seen those shows on TV. The chefs are always mean.”
Ethan looked over to the beautiful woman in the pink frilly shirt and jeans, then back to Zayne. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Plus, we’ve been in the kitchen with her back in France. She wasn’t mean then.”
“Yes, but she wasn’t creating then. She’s thinking right now, ruminating—”
“Ruminating?”
“You know, trying to decide which way to go. She might not appreciate being interrupted.”
Ethan chuckled. “Would it make you feel better if I was to go first?”
Zayne looked back to where Chloé was now using her wooden spoon like a microphone, and nodded.
“Yeah, you go first. That way if she gets mad, it’s at you.”
“Gee, thanks. It’s good to see how comfortable you are at throwing me to the wolves.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Zayne waved him forward, and Ethan crossed the kitchen to where Chloé stood. Once he was behind her, he gently touched her waist first to not give her a fright, and when she glanced over her shoulder, a stunning smile hit her lips.
Ethan reached for one of the headphones and pulled it up, then placed his mouth by her ear.
“How’s it going in here, gorgeous?”
“Good,” she said a little louder than needed, with her music still playing. “I’m just working on some different sauces to see what I like best.”
Ethan nodded and put the headphones back in place, then wrapped his arm fully around her and looked over her shoulder.
From what he could see, she had four pots simmering on the stove in front. She switched off the two final burners that were on, then pulled her headphones free as she turned around and greeted him with a kiss.
“Sorry, I was just finishing up.”
“No problem at all. In fact, this greeting is much better than Zayne thought I would get.” Chloé pulled back to look at Zayne standing in the doorway, and Ethan whispered, “He thought you were going to be mad we interrupted.”
“Mad?” Chloé grinned. “Why would I be mad?”
“I’ve seen those cooking shows,” Zayne finally said, walking over. “Chefs don’t like people in their space.”
She laughed. “You’re not wrong, actually. My père was on one of those shows. He was dubbed ‘the Prick.’”
“See?” Zayne eyed Ethan. “I know what I’m talking about.”
Chloé reached for his cheek and patted it. “Don’t worry, I only use my wooden spoon on you if you want it. So…wanna taste?”
Zayne’s eyes brightened. “Damn right I do.”
“Then go and take a seat,” she said, shooing them out of the kitchen and to the other side of the island.
Once they were seated, she moved about the kitchen preparing several small dishes, then brought them over.
Each serving was plated to perfection and looked like a work of art, and considering she’d pulled this off in their kitchen with a last-minute order for the staff, Ethan could only imagine what she could do at the restaurant, where she had everything she could ever need at her disposal.
“Okay, I have four mains I’m oscillating between. So, be honest. I want to know how you feel about them, okay? Nothing you say will hurt my feelings. I need feedback to help me tweak. To make it perfect.”
“Not sure how helpful my ‘I like it’ or ‘I don’t’ will be, Red,” Zayne replied. “But I’m willing to let you use my mouth for whatever purpose you like.”
Chloé arched a sassy brow. “Well, I’m definitely not going to say no to that.”
“Smart girl.” Ethan smirked. “Zayne is very good with his mouth.”
She eyed said mouth and bit down into her lip. “I know. But for now, I’m going to use his tongue to taste some of my…other delights.”
Zayne winked at her as she slid a knife and fork their way.
“First off, I have for you squab with a Swiss chard gnocchi. The gnocchi is made from scratch.”
Jesus, she was impressive.
Ethan leaned over and inhaled the delicious aromas coming from… “What’s the sauce with it?”
“That’s squab jus and summer truffle. The squab is cooked on the bone and roasted—gives it a more flavorful taste.”
Zayne dug in at the same time Ethan did, eager to try the first creation put in front of them.
The second the meal hit his taste buds, Ethan closed his eyes and savored the flavors that exploded on his tongue.
It wasn’t every day you got to eat like this, and he was not going to rush the experience.
Unusually quiet beside him, Zayne seemed to be having a similar kind of moment. Ethan opened his eyes to see Chloé looking at them both expectantly, and a sense of pride hit him.
This smart, talented woman was theirs, and holy hell was she a genius in the kitchen.
“Well?” she said when neither of them spoke. But Ethan was still trying to come up with the words to tell her it was the best thing he’d ever tasted in his life.
“Red…” Zayne stabbed the last piece of gnocchi and twirled it through the sauce, and Ethan nodded.
“I feel just like Zayne. Words are escaping me. If that’s the first option, I have no idea how we’re going to pick one. That was extraordinary.”
“Really? There’s nothing you’d change? It wasn’t too salty? Too sweet?”
“Chloé?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve eaten in restaurants all over the world, and that was sheer perfection.”
She let out a shuddery breath, her eyes glistening at his praise.
“It’s just… Père ’s never trusted me like this before, and it makes me nervous. What if I make a mistake? What if this is a test and I fail?”
Zayne put his utensils down and sat back on his stool. “Trust me, Red. If you cook like this on the night, you ain’t gonna fail.”
“Zayne’s right. And if this is a test, he’s doing it to better you. He knows how talented you are, and if this is you practicing, I can only imagine how phenomenal it’s going to be on the night. You are going to make yourself, them, and us the proudest people on the planet.”
A smile slowly stretched across her lips as she came around to hug and kiss them both.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank us. We’re telling you the truth.”
“But…” Zayne eyed the plates on the other side of the kitchen. “I wouldn’t turn down whatever else you might want us to try for you today.”
“You got it.” Chloé all but floated back into the kitchen. “Coming up next, grilled yellowfin tuna, crème fra?che, and English peas…”
How they were going to have any room for pasta later that night, Ethan had no idea. But he wasn’t going to pass up this meal, not when he could be one the first people to ever taste the first Michelin-star meal created by Chloé Thornton-Priestley.