Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
For the last two weeks, he and Madison had holed up in their Romance Shrine when they weren’t working their asses off.
He sat in his study sipping a glass of red wine, a truly excellent vintage Jacqueline was considering for the launch of Pairings by Pierre, which was opening on St. Patrick’s Day.
Breathing out a satisfied sigh, he picked up his favorite Mont Blanc pen and signed the contract for the new restaurant with Chef Marcel.
He would celebrate this milestone with Madison when she came home, which he estimated was in about forty-five minutes given it was a Saturday night closing.
Damn but it felt good to be expanding his empire here in Paris—under the company he’d created with his Paris roommates.
Sure, this baby was more his than anyone else’s, but everyone had already volunteered to help in any way they could.
Brooke and Axel were especially interested in helping on the decorating and design side.
He had resources here in Paris now, and he was gaining influence as a restaurateur to know. People wanted to work with him, and even though his mind was reaching for future opportunities, he knew to focus on what they needed now.
Nanine’s topped the list for him.
The work had been grueling, from dealing with the restaurant’s increased fame, extended construction hours, and Nanine’s move, but the proposed renovation of the restaurant—his biggest task—was progressing well.
Brooke and Axel had both contributed some invaluable ideas, being especially creative with Nanine’s top-floor addition.
The coveted outdoor garden space would be a showstopper with eye-catching exterior lights, plants, and water features. Outdoor seating would be a prime draw, and a clever glass ceiling and walled space would allow for year-round use.
Then there was the exterior elevator Axel had proposed. The man knew his engineering too.
Jean Luc was rushing the appropriate permits. Their A-list reservations had helped there, along with some highly placed contacts in the French government.
With the additional three floors being added to Nanine’s, they would be able to host private groups at a premium price, which would please the A-listers and their desire for privacy while also giving Madison and the staff a chance to prearrange an exclusive set menu from the current offerings.
She’d signed off on the plans and agreed on their proposed new hires for both the front and the back of the house to handle the expanded space.
Private rooms with limited seating would keep them from expanding too rapidly—a sure way to mess up things like consistency and excellence. The strategy also wouldn’t overload the kitchen, whose current space he and Madison felt could handle the expanded seating.
Knowing the plans were progressing at Nanine’s, he was already looking forward to a new challenge in creating yet another award-winning restaurant here in Paris.
Once Chef Marcel, as he was now calling him, countersigned the papers, they would put in a bid on the property he’d been eyeing in the First Arrondissement near the Louvre.
Sipping his wine, he reached for his phone to review the photos he’d taken of the neighborhood where he’d gone by yesterday. His hand tightened on the crystal stem when he caught sight of a new text from his mother.
Congratulations on the restaurant. All our friends are talking about you!
Dad and I thought we’d come over to see what all the fuss was about.
Our good friends Tina and Tripp are game, and so is Ivey.
You remember her? She was that sweet little girl who used to give you the Easter eggs straight out of her basket.
Her parents thought a late graduation present to Paris would be perfect.
You two would have a chance to reconnect.
She’s absolutely lovely, Kyle. We’ll see you in a few weeks.
He set his wine and phone aside and planted his hands on his desk, taking deep breaths to offset his anger. She expected him to find her a table for five people on short notice, and she wanted to set him up with a girl fresh out of college?
Like hell.
He remembered Ivey. When she was a cute little five-year-old, she’d followed a teenaged Kyle around in her yellow-and-white polka dot Easter dress, giving him her colored eggs. Totally embarrassing, but he’d been sweet to her because she was a little kid.
He started to type and tell his mother reservations were completely out of the question, despite knowing her reply would be a sugary kiss-off like You’ll figure something out, honey.
Then he paused. Texting in anger was stupid. He knew better. He deleted his message and sat back.
After cooling down, he was ready to examine the issue from all angles.
How serious were his parents about a potential trip really?
The only country they’d ever visited had been Mexico—Cancun specifically, on their honeymoon.
They’d never gone anywhere else, and they’d always talked down on France, rehashing tired stories about the French being rude.
When he’d told them he was returning to France, they’d doubled down on what a terrible place it was, according to their friends.
Cooler-headed, he shook his head. His parents were likely only talking a good game to their friends, boasting about his success because it made them look better. Nothing new there. They’d been doing that his whole life.
If they actually came, he’d control it, starting by setting up an itinerary for them that didn’t include a reservation at Nanine’s. He could get them into other coveted places that’d appease their vanity.
If they actually came—and he doubted they would.
Right now, it was better not to reply. Yeah. He liked that course of action better. You didn’t wave a red cloth in a bull’s face unless you wanted trouble. He didn’t.
Maybe a banal thumbs-up emoji response would be especially off-putting.
Finished, he rubbed the spot between his brows before turning to the tension at the back of his neck. His parents were the only two people in the world who made him feel powerless, and he hated them for it as much as himself.
But he wasn’t powerless.
“I know it’s the end of our week, but you look more exhausted than usual.”
When he looked over, his heart shifted in his chest. The weight lifted. His mood went from crap to wonderful. Madison was home.
“You’re the boost I needed.” He stood and went around the desk. “God, I missed you.”
She set Pierre’s cage down on a side table, per her usual ritual, and grabbed his hand, leading him out and closing the door behind them. “Better to kiss without the kids around,” she joked, before she kissed him and wrapped her arms around him.
He leaned in and pressed his face into her neck. Her smell was a wild medley of roasted duck, fragrant onions, and industrial soap.
Comforting.
Reliable.
Always exactly right.
Her hands tangled in his hair. “What happened? This is more than your usual I’ve been dealing with contractors and assholes wanting a reservation all day mood.”
He coughed out a laugh. “The reservation part is right. My mom texted and said they’re bringing their good friends Tripp and Tina, along with their sweet, newly graduated daughter, Ivey, to Paris in a couple weeks to see what all the fuss was about with ‘my new restaurant.’”
“Oh…”
“Don’t worry. After talking myself down, I realized the probability of them actually coming is pretty low.
They hate France. They don’t travel outside the States.
It’s more likely my parents are lapping up attention at their country club right now because people are talking about Nanine’s.
Boasting about going—even if they never make the trip—is the kind of crap they like doing to make people jealous. ”
She patted him on the back. “Whew. Because I didn’t know how you were planning on snapping your fingers like a magician and finding them a table.”
“Exactly,” he muttered.
“So they’re bragging about setting you up with a new graduate too, huh?” Her voice held an edge. “That makes her twenty-two?”
“Yep.” He settled her more firmly against him. “She used to give me her Easter eggs when we were kids. My mother thinks it’s fate.”
“But you hate hard-boiled eggs,” she answered practically, making him laugh. “Now I understand the root of the problem.”
“You know how I responded?”
“From your wicked smile, I’d say it was a humdinger,” she responded, tracing his mouth. “Tell me.”
“I sent them back a thumbs-up emoji—no deets, no yay, you’re coming. Especially not a no way in hell can I get you a reservation—”
“Because you don’t challenge people like that. I learned that in Liberty City and later in my first restaurant.”
“I knew you’d understand. And do you know what? God, it felt good.”
“I can see that.” She was smoothing his brows, gazing intently into his eyes. “What happens if they do come?”
“I’ll give them an itinerary to die for, arrange for reservations at other really posh restaurants, and be all like, ‘sorry, Nanine’s just wasn’t possible this time. But you’re on the wait list. Or we can set up a reservation for you for a year from now.’”
“Will that work?” she asked, her brows knitting. “I mean, we have a lot going on.”
“This is my turf.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. “I can control this situation if I have to, but again, there’s a low probability of it happening. Regardless, you won’t have to deal with them, ever. I promise.”
Her expression was a downright glower.
“Why are you frowning?” He gripped her shoulders. “Did I miss something? You’re not upset because I didn’t suggest introducing you to my parents?”
Didn’t she know there was no way he’d expose her to them? Especially after the way Paisley had treated her and called her “the help.” His parents would be no different. He would never put her in the same room with them.
“God, no!”
He exhaled sharply. “Okay, then what? You aren’t worried about them trying to set me up?”
“With egg girl?” She laughed. “No, but I appreciate you telling me.”
That had him lifting her chin. “Of course I’d tell you. You’re my best friend and my partner. Mi media naranja.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “First the Romance Shrine and now the words for soulmate in Spanish? What’s next?”
“How about Latin dancing?” He drew her closer and began to sway. “We talked about going out and exploring Paris together…”
“But we’ve sucked at doing that.” She eased back and cracked her neck. “Too much work or maybe we’re getting old. All I want to do is take a hot shower with you and eat ice cream in bed while you tell me about your day. Of course, we’d have wild sex in the shower.”
“Of course,” he said with his lips twitching. “I know you’re working hard, harder than anyone. I don’t mean to add to it. I promised not to drain you.”
She rubbed the scruff on his jaw. “You aren’t. This circus is. I know we need the construction crew, but I swear I can feel them pounding their hammers all the way down in the kitchen.”
Wincing, he hugged her to his chest. “I’m sorry.
They’re working as fast as they can on the built-ins and wainscoting before the painters come in.
I was reviewing our progress before you got home.
Hiring the second crew has accelerated our schedule.
We’re lucky we’re dealing with mostly cosmetic changes for the first two floors to start.
We should be able to seat people upstairs in two weeks, but I don’t want to commit until I’m sure.
Nanine’s apartment and the outdoor space requires more work.
Hopefully with it being the top floor, you won’t feel the reverberation so much. ”
“I’m not complaining,” she said like the trooper she was, patting his chest. “You’re doing an incredible job.
It probably helps that I’m super charged right now.
When dinner service rolls around, all I can hear over the crackle of my duck rendering on the stove is the steady hum of conversation from the front of the house.
I keep wondering if a Michelin critic is out there and what he or she is eating. ”
“Totally understandable. I’m not even there, and I wonder.”
“So we’re both going a little crazy right now. Which is why all I want to do is come home and hide in the Romance Shrine with you.”
“I’m glad you’ve embraced it.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. “I bought five thousand votive candles in bulk today since we’re plowing through them.”
“You did not.”
He gave her another sultry kiss. “Oh, and I have more good news. I just signed the deal with your mentor.”
“It’s official?” She launched herself at him. “God, you have no idea how happy that makes me. Chef did so much for me. I know you’re going to love working with him.”
“He can’t sing your praises enough either.” Every time the man went on about Madison’s accomplishments, Kyle couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “The news is going to be big.”
“I know it will be.” Her grip delighted him as much as her joy. “We definitely need to celebrate.”
He took her hand and led her over to the freezer. Opening the door, he gestured to the shelves. “Behold. I bought more ice cream along with candles. The Romance Shrine is stocked for another few weeks.”
Her hand tugged his shirt, bringing him down to her level, and she planted a steamy kiss on his eager mouth.
“You bought all the flavors! Kyle, I should be appalled at the cost of importing ice cream from Miami, but right now, all I want to do is order you upstairs, tell you to strip, and turn the shower on.”
He started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, and damn, he loved the way her golden eyes sparkled with desire. “Make sure you grab the spoon.”
As he walked out, he threw a heated look over his shoulder.
Everything was going pretty damn well if you asked him.
He wasn’t going to let anything fuck that up.