Chapter 12 #2
“Yes, it is,” she said. Then she sighed and the breeze ruffled her short black hair. “It was knowing that you were the man you are...that sounds silly, doesn’t it? But it was you and the way you made me feel. I channeled that into my cooking.
He was glad to hear it, he wanted to give her as much as he could so that she’d remember the good times with him when the bad inevitably came.
Today’s circumstances had made him realize he needed to step forward before a chef that could recognize him came through the door, like Chef Renard had done.
“You did a good job with that, ma chère.”
“I did. I don’t want to talk about the show though. Thank you for being so supportive about everything. It was nice to look over and know that you were on my side,” she said.
“No problem.”
She ambled over to the rail and studied the City and beyond. “It’s easy to forget that we’re a part of something so huge. I’ve seen more people here today than I normally see in my neighborhood in a year. I mean I like my quiet little life. Is New Orleans like this?”
“The French Quarter is busy all the time. It’s a bit like New York, but the Garden District...that’s where I live, it’s quiet like the little neighborhood you described.”
“Do you think you’ll head back there when the competition is over?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, but the truth was yes. He had so many new ideas for Gastrophile. But he couldn’t share them with Staci. And that drove home the fact that this wasn’t as real as he’d been pretending it was.
“Really?” she asked. “I’d think you’d have some idea of what your next move will be.”
There was something in her tone that bothered him.
It was as if she were questioning his honesty and okay, he knew he wasn’t being up front with her.
He knew that everything he felt and worried over stemmed entirely from the fact that if he were being honest he’d tell her all about Gastrophile and ask her to move home with him.
Frankly, he was tired of running.
“Sorry, it’s just that you might sell your interest in Sweet Dreams and then we’d both be without a job. Where would that leave us?”
She stepped away from him and he knew without being told that he’d said the wrong thing. “I guess that pretty much sums it up. Why didn’t you just say when the show is over, so are we?”
“Because I don’t want that to be the case,” he said, feeling trapped and knowing he had no one but himself to blame.
If he’d been a different sort of man he wouldn’t need external praise to know he was good at what he did.
But he wasn’t. And this show had been the only way to know if he was the same quality of chef as his father, uncles and grandfather.
He wanted to be worthy of their name, he needed to know his place in the culinary dynasty had been earned and not given, but today seeing the hurt and disappointment in Staci’s eyes, he acknowledged, he’d give it all up if he could find a way to smooth over everything with her without having to reveal what he’d done.
But he was a realist and knew that would never happen. So he had to make a decision of what to tell her and he knew that the more of his soul he laid bare now the easier it might be for her to forgive him later.
“I do want you to come to New Orleans with me,” he said. “But I was afraid to say that.”
STACI GUESSED SHE SHOULD be careful when she pushed Remy. He always did something that was unexpected and inviting her to come to New Orleans was no exception. Even though he hadn’t really invited her to come with him. He’d just said it was what he wanted.
“Why didn’t you just ask me then?” She didn’t see why it would be hard for him.
He had nothing to lose. Or was he not sure that she’d accept him.
He didn’t have a kitchen to return to. “Listen, if you’re worried about not having a gig, it’s not a big deal.
Once this show airs everyone in the country is going to be beating down your door.
You’ll be able to choose your assignment. ”
He reached over and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip before kissing her so sweetly that she felt wrapped in some emotion she was afraid to name.
“Thank you. Your offer means everything to me. But I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to give up your family and friends to move across the country with a man you aren’t committed to.”
“I understand. Just so you know if you asked me to move to New Orleans and give our relationship a real try, I’d say yes.”
She felt braver than she had been in the last five years.
Since she’d talked Alysse into starting Sweet Dreams with her.
It had been so long since she’d risked anything, which was why she’d signed up for the show and it was Remy that was the challenge that made her feel alive.
Remy and the way he inspired her to cook better.
She had never felt this completely into another person before.
She was dancing around naming the emotion because once she said it, she’d be just like her mother and grandmother. She’d have fallen in love with a man and Staci wasn’t entirely sure she knew him and could trust him.
“Then I’m asking,” he said. “At the end of the competition, will you move to New Orleans with me?”
She took a deep breath and held it. All the rash decisions she’d made in her life flashed before her eyes and she knew that this one was the smartest one of all.
“Yes,” she said. “But I reserve the right to change my mind.”
“No,” he challenged her, shaking his head. “No matter what happens, you and I have made a deal to give each other a try. I asked and it was hard to do. You’re either in this with me or not at all.”
“I’m in it,” he said.
He smiled and kissed her again. “This calls for a celebration!”
“It does?” she asked, but then realized what she’d said. “I mean, it sure does. What should we do? We’re already pretty close to the top of the world.”
“I know a place I think you will like,” he said. “Do you trust me?”
“I wouldn’t be moving to New Orleans if I didn’t,” she said.
Hearing the words out loud warmed her. She wondered how different leaving home would be this time.
When she’d moved to Paris she’d been scared but so sure of herself.
This time she wasn’t scared or as sure of herself.
She’d wager her grandmother would say that was age giving her some wisdom.
“That’s right. Okay,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Follow me.”
She followed him through the gift shop where he stopped at the jewelry counter and bought her a bracelet with an Empire State Building charm on it. “This is so you’ll always remember this visit.”
“I don’t think I’ll be forgetting it any time soon.”
“I hope not,” he said.
They took the elevator to the lobby and Staci was full of such a feeling of love. There she said it, she thought.
“Remy?” a man called to them.
Staci heard Remy curse under his breath as he turned.
The man who’d spoken looked vaguely familiar to Staci.
He was about as tall as Remy and had salt and pepper-colored curly hair.
His eyes were dark chocolate brown and he eyed them both intently.
The woman at the man’s side was slightly taller than Staci and had reddish brown hair that was perfectly coifed.
She wore a Lily Pulitzer sundress and looked altogether way more chic than Staci could ever hope to.
“Do you know them?” she asked under her breath.
“Yes,” he said. “They’re my parents.”
“Mom and Dad, this is Staci. Staci, this is my mom and dad.”
“Hello,” Staci said holding out her hand to the couple who each shook it in turn.
“I’m Alain,” his father said. “This is Betsy.”
“It’s so nice to meet you. Remy has told me a few things about you,” Staci said.
“That’s good to hear,” Alain remarked. “We know nothing of you.”
“I suspect that’s because we’re not supposed to make any calls home,” Staci said.
Remy seemed as if he wanted to run away. She gave him a what’s up look, which he ignored.
“Why ever not? Most boys who run away from their responsibilities aren’t forbade from calling home,” Betsy said. “Unless the world has changed.”
“What are you talking about?” Staci asked, dropping Remy’s hand. Clearly there was more going on here than she understood.
“That our son walked out of his job and has been missing for the last three months,” Alain explained. “Not a single word in that time.”
She faced Remy and demanded, “What are they talking about? I thought you lost your job.”
“Not exactly,” he said.
“Then what is the exact story?” she persisted. “Because the picture I’m getting is of a man who hasn’t been honest with me.”
“I’m sorry, my dear, but who did you say you were again?” Betsy asked.
“Staci Rowland, Mrs. Stephens. I’m a competitor on a cooking show that your son is also participating in.”
“Mrs. Who?”
Staci swallowed hard as the truth slowly sunk in. This wasn’t one lie but something much bigger. And this guy had some serious problems if he thought...what did he think?
“Isn’t that your last name? Remy has presented himself as an out of work cook from New Orleans...Remy Stephens.”
“He’s not out of work,” Alain said. “He was promoted to Chef Patron at Gastrophile and his last name is Cruzel.”
“Wait. Staci I—” Remy began.
“Too late!” Staci blurted. “Stay here and explain it all to your parents. I’m going back to the hotel. I’ll give you until tonight to inform the judges of your duplicity.”
“Staci!”
“No. I don’t want to hear any more of your carefully concocted stories. To you they might seem amusing, but to someone who had believed them, I can assure you they aren’t.”