Chapter 3 #2
"Everything is available for the right price," Klaus counters, his hand squeezing my thigh again. "What do you say, beautiful? Leave these boring Americans and come experience real European culture?"
I've had enough. "Excuse me," I say, standing abruptly. "I should check on Knox."
"But we are just getting started—"
"She's right," Travis interjects smoothly. "Knox did look unwell. Carina, would you mind? We'll continue the negotiations."
I practically flee the room, my skin crawling where Klaus touched me.
In the hallway, I lean against the wall and take deep breaths.
Through the door, I hear William's voice, sharp and cold: "The deal is this, Klaus.
Exclusive distribution rights for the full line, or we walk.
And you need to keep your hands to yourself. "
"So protective," Klaus laughs. "Is she your woman?"
"She's our employee," William responds icily. "And she'll be treated with respect, or this partnership ends before it begins."
Knox is in the bathroom down the hall, and I can hear him groaning through the door. "Knox? You okay?"
"I'm an idiot," comes the muffled reply. "Why did I eat so much cheese?"
Despite everything, I laugh. "Because it was really good cheese?"
"Worth it," he groans. "Is the meeting over?"
"Still going. Klaus is..." I trail off.
"A fucking creep?" Knox supplies. "Yeah, I wanted to punch him when he touched you. Did you see Will's face? I thought he was going to leap across the table."
"You saw that?"
"Everyone saw it. Will looked ready to throw him out the window. Even Travis was getting that look he gets before he destroys someone with spreadsheets." There's a pause, then more groaning. "God, my stomach. This is so embarrassing."
"Do you want some water? Or I could find some ginger tea?"
"You'd do that?"
"Of course."
I find a server and manage to communicate what I need with a mix of English and gestures. The Swiss hotel staff are impeccably trained, and soon I'm back with ginger tea, crackers, and even some peppermint oil the server suggested.
Knox emerges from the bathroom looking pale but grateful. "You're an angel," he says, taking the tea. "I'm sorry you had to deal with Klaus. He's always been handsy, but that was extreme even for him."
"Does William really need this deal that badly?"
Knox nods, sipping carefully. "The European expansion depends on exclusive suppliers. Klaus has connections we need. But..." He looks at me seriously. "If he makes you that uncomfortable, Will won't force it. Despite what you might think, my brother isn't a complete asshole."
"I can handle it," I say, though I'm not sure I believe it. "I've dealt with worse in restaurant kitchens."
"You shouldn't have to handle it," Knox says quietly. "No one should. Just because you survived worse doesn't mean you should accept it."
The wisdom in his words hits me hard. How many times did I tell myself that with Dylan? That I'd handled worse, that it wasn't that bad, that I should be grateful?
We sit in silence for a moment, Knox gradually looking more human as the tea works its magic. Then the conference room door opens and William appears, his expression thunderous.
"We're done," he announces.
"Klaus agreed to our terms," Travis says, emerging behind him. "All of them. Including keeping things strictly professional."
William's eyes find mine. "Are you alright?"
The concern in his voice surprises me. "I'm fine."
"You're not," he says flatly. "But we'll discuss it later. Knox, can you walk?"
"I'm not an invalid," Knox protests, then immediately doubles over. "Okay, maybe a little bit."
"Idiot," William mutters, but there's affection in it. "Travis, can you—"
"I'll get him to his room," Travis says. "You two handle the contracts when Klaus sends them over."
You two? I look at William, confused.
"You impressed them," he explains. "Klaus wants you to review the cheese selections and make pairing recommendations for the marketing materials. Apparently, you have a 'sophisticated palate' and 'intuitive understanding of flavor profiles.'"
"He said that?"
"Among other things I won't repeat." William's jaw tightens again. "You don't have to do it. I can tell him—"
"No," I interrupt. "I want to. The cheese is incredible, and this is what you hired me for, right?"
He studies me for a long moment. "This isn't what I hired you for. I hired you to cook. But if you're willing..."
"I am."
"Then let's go review those contracts. And Carina?" He pauses. "Next time someone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me immediately. I don't care how important the deal is."
The protectiveness in his voice makes something warm bloom in my chest. Dylan never protected me from anything—he was usually the one making me uncomfortable in social situations, criticizing my laugh, my opinions, the way I held my wine glass.
"Thank you," I say softly.
William nods curtly and heads toward the elevator. I follow, still processing everything that just happened. My first business meeting, and I'd somehow helped secure a major deal while fending off a handsy Swiss cheese magnate and taking care of Knox's lactose-induced crisis.
"You did well," William says as we wait for the elevator. "Your knowledge impressed them. That wasn't manufactured or forced—you genuinely understand food at a level most chefs don't."
"I love what I do," I say simply.
"It shows." The elevator arrives and we step in. "Klaus won't be a problem again. I made that very clear."
"What did you say to him?"
A small smile crosses William's face. "I reminded him that Eden Provisions has many friends in the European market. And that inappropriate behavior toward our employees would be... widely discussed."
"You threatened him?"
"I informed him of potential consequences." The smile becomes slightly more pronounced. "Travis may have mentioned our connections with several major restaurant groups who would be very interested to know if their cheese supplier was harassing women."
I stare at him. "You'd really tank the deal over this?"
The elevator opens at our floor, and William gestures for me to exit first. "Carina, I'd tank a dozen deals before I'd let someone treat you that way. You're under my protection now. That means something."
Under my protection.
The words should sound archaic, patronizing even. But the way he says them, with that quiet intensity, makes me feel safer than I have in years.
"Now," he continues, all business again, "let's review those contracts. And then you're going to eat a proper meal and get some rest. Tomorrow's meetings start early, and I have a feeling Klaus isn't the only supplier who's going to be impressed by our new chef."
As I follow him down the hallway, I realize that maybe, just maybe, this job is going to be more than I bargained for. But for the first time in a long time, that doesn't scare me.
It thrills me.