Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
All Madison wanted to do was rush home and celebrate with Kyle.
But she made herself do what good bosses do.
After they’d cleaned the kitchen, she passed around a really fine bottle of Pineau des Charentes, a French digestif Jacqueline had raved about, and thanked them for their service.
They joked about the drama resulting from Silver’s review.
Everyone understood. She and her staff needed to stay grounded and keep doing the job.
Then Rico walked in…
He clearly was ready to celebrate as Nanine’s chandelier gave a sultry jangle, judging by the dashing suit he’d changed into and the coveted bottle of Armagnac in his hand. She’d bet he’d also splashed spicy cologne on. Terrific…
Her staff got the message. When a Michelin-starred chef like Rico Gurat of Paris’ Maison Su appeared, her old La Fleur colleague from Miami to boot, it was time to say good night. Like they’d done on the multiple other occasions he’d stopped by over the past few months.
Madison only grabbed her coat, a polite smile on her mouth. “I’m on my way out, but obviously you heard the news.”
“Everyone has heard the news. Chef Marcel even called me. He was practically in tears, he’s so proud of you. He thinks Silver’s review means you’re a shoo-in for a Michelin star.”
She made a show of rubbing her stainless steel counter down like she’d spotted an errant stain, all while trying to clamp down the rising swell of emotion rushing up her throat.
“We will see,” she ground out. “You know the job.”
Besides, she still worried about what Silver had said about the past. That could prove to be a problem, despite the hubbub following the review.
Despite the fact that a crown prince had called for a reservation today.
Now that was something she hadn’t even seen at the famed restaurant she’d worked at in Miami.
If those kids in Liberty City could see her now…
“Still, a Silver review is like the Mona Lisa of culinary reviews.” He held up the bottle. “Chef Marcel also said he’s talking to your restaurant group about opening a place here in Paris. That would be another huge coup for you and your roommates.”
Noncommittally, she said, “It would,” even though she hadn’t been part of Kyle and Chef’s discussions this week. They’d agreed she had enough on her hands.
“Lots to celebrate.” He held up the bottle, his gaze razor-sharp. “Do you have time for a drink?”
She winced. Letting him down easy was on the menu, it seemed. “Unfortunately, no. Rico, I need to get home. To Kyle.”
He rubbed his fine jawline. “I see. I had wondered when you didn’t respond to a few of my texts around the holidays. Well, I do not like losing to him, but I will not let it affect our friendship.”
No, they’d worked elbow-to-elbow night after night in the kitchen. He’d always treated her with respect, unlike many other male chefs. “Good. I mean, we’re professionals besides friends.”
Pierre joined him in a low chuckle. “Indeed. Still, I hope when things calm down you will join me for some professional events. You’ve been invited into a few of the chef circles I attend.
For after-shift drinks. For a Sunday dinner where everyone brings something.
To a who’s-who in the Paris cooking scene dinner. ”
She’d been to a few such events in Miami. So far she’d kept her own company here in Paris, mostly filling her spare time with her roommates, Nanine, and of course, Kyle. “I appreciate the invite. Sure, when time allows.”
Although she had no idea when that would be.
Right now, she wanted more time with Kyle, and she couldn’t remember ever wishing for more personal time away from the job before.
Then again, Kyle was setting new records in her life.
More importantly, she was starting to believe.
In him and them and all her dreams coming true.
“Come on, I’ll walk you out. I noticed some people clustered out front.”
“Yeah, Claude mentioned that.”
Rico opened the door to the front of the house and waited for her to make Pierre comfortable in his cage before heading out.
When they exited the restaurant, a camera flash blinded her. “Chef Garcia, what is your reaction to William Silver saying you would redefine an entire generation of restaurants?” a male voice called out in French.
She set Pierre’s cage down as she locked the front door. Standing on the sidewalk were a cluster of people huddled together in the cold. Clearly, she’d underestimated the number of people waiting when Rico had originally mentioned it.
“We’d like to make a reservation,” another man cried out in English, thrusting his hand out to her in entreaty. “We’ll pay anything you want. We’re only in Paris for our honeymoon for another two days. Please! It would be something to tell our grandkids.”
She tensed. Grandkids? Paying? What the hell?
“Chef Garcia, how do you receive your inspiration?” a woman in a dark blue coat called out in French.
“We want a reservation too,” a woman demanded in French, practically elbowing the newlyweds.
Rico shot her a glance before she could speak. “Chef Garcia has had a long and taxing day,” he said first in English and then French. “Call the restaurant tomorrow with your demands. Now, we must go.”
Taking Pierre’s cage, he grabbed her elbow and led her down the street. A few people called out after them, but thankfully no one followed.
“A taxing day?” She gave a short laugh. “Are you taking poetry lessons instead of cooking lessons now?”
“I’m almost envious of you, Madison,” Rico murmured in Spanish, ignoring her joke.
“Don’t be. Now, we’ll need another plan for stalkers and pushy journalists.”
“Success is its own mistress,” Rico said smoothly, “and I am happy to be wrapped in her embrace. Do you want me to call you a car or walk you home?”
He hadn’t walked her home before. She’d made sure not to lead him on when they’d gone out dancing a couple times before she and Kyle became a couple. “No, I’m only a couple of blocks away. Rico, thanks for coming and for understanding how things are. I didn’t want things to be weird between us.”
Handing her Pierre, he gave a Gallic shrug. “Neither do I. Good night, Madison.”
“’Night, Rico.”
“Here’s wishing you get your star.” He reached up to the Paris night sky as if plucking one down and holding it out to her. “And that I garner another. Good luck bringing Chef Marcel to Paris. It would be great to have him here, where I could beat him head-to-head.”
“Seriously, Rico?”
“The student always wishes to beat his master to know when he has truly come into his own,” he only replied. With a wry laugh, he gave a slight bow and headed across the street.
She stood there a moment, smiling even though she didn’t agree with his logic. But keeping him as a friend was a win.
When she arrived at home, she stopped short at the note taped to the front door and set Pierre’s cage down.
Great. First, she’d had people waiting for her outside the restaurant. Now this…
The handwriting was Kyle’s, she noted with a warm feeling in her chest.
Everyone is inside, waiting to celebrate. Didn’t want you to be surprised. Love, K
She practically sighed like a schoolgirl at the whole Love, K part before closing the note.
Had he thought she might start undressing at the door again?
Heck, it had been tough not being able to rush across the kitchen earlier and give him a big whopping smooch, but she’d needed to remain professional.
Letting herself inside, she heard the happy laughter and sparks of conversation from her found family. Walking to the kitchen, she found everyone sitting around the island with a beverage in hand. Kyle was laughing as Phoebe gestured wildly in the air with her hands, Sawyer grinning beside her.
Then Kyle looked over as if sensing her, and his warm smile made her heart explode in her chest.
“There she is!” Dean shot out of his chair like a rocket, spilling his champagne. “All hail the conquering heroine.”
She lowered Pierre to the floor and did her best to evade her friend’s way too enthusiastic hug and kiss. Then everyone else was surrounding her, and it was like the holidays all over again. Hug Fest was back, and right now, it didn’t seem so bad.
Kyle was last, she imagined on purpose, and when he leaned in to embrace her, his arms loose and casual, he whispered, “Congrats! I’m so happy for you.”
She gave him a hearty squeeze, wishing she could do more. “Me too, but it’s a zoo. There were people waiting for me outside the restaurant after I locked up.”
His entire frame went rigid as the conversation died down around them. “What? Are you okay?”
Waving a hand, she scoffed. “Please. I grew up in Liberty City. Besides, Rico was with me. He came by after the restaurant closed to congratulate me. But I don’t like thinking about people harassing the staff.
I want us to hire security for the front and back.
Only temporarily, and only around closing.
I don’t want diners thinking there’s a reason to be scared. ”
The happy light in his blue eyes was gone, along with his smile. She knew it wasn’t jealousy of Rico that had done it, because the same was true for everyone else. She’d killed the party.
“I’ll find someone tomorrow,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m glad you weren’t alone tonight. I’ll also arrange for cars to take staff home. Tell them a new plan will be in place by the start of the dinner hour.”
At times like these, she wanted to kiss him in front of everyone.
He always understood. Even about Rico. “Thank you. It’s going to die down.
I’ll call a couple of chefs I know who’ve dealt with the media circus and see if they have any other ideas for how to handle things.
But you’re here to celebrate. Where’s the champagne? ”