Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Madison dragged herself out of bed.
She needed to get a grip. Life went on. So she wasn’t winning a star. That was out of her control. The only thing she could control was how she reacted. How many times had she picked herself back up? Only this time the star had felt so close some nights she could have sworn her fingers grazed it.
Stupid.
What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger…
Blah, blah, blah.
She headed into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, taking in her perfect hair. She touched the thick waves falling in graceful lines on her head. Some women would be squealing at their hair luck.
This morning she wished it were her. But she didn’t want freaky perfect hair. She wanted that Michelin star, dammit. Forget about it, she told the pale version of herself staring back at her.
She left the bathroom and headed across the hall to her own bedroom, cocking her ear for noise.
None. She dressed in all black—today she felt the funeral vibes strong.
Forcing herself to open her desk drawer, she drew out her recipe card and angrily scratched out the part about winning a Michelin star.
Reading the recipe again, she drilled down on the positives.
Kyle topped the list. On impulse, she added Spike as an ingredient on the card, along with Pierre, before tucking it away.
She needed to go find her friend first and foremost after how upset she’d left him in Kyle’s office.
A high-pitched whine sounded, and she turned sharply to see Kyle and Spike watching from the doorway. “How are you feeling?”
“Getting there.” She pointed a finger to her hair and then to Kyle. “Some things in my life are still perfect. Isn’t that great?”
His mouth twitched, most likely at the false note in her voice, but those baby blues were as serious as the proverbial food critic sitting down at a table. “You don’t have to put on a brave face, you know. I’m upset. I’m sure you are.”
“Being upset doesn’t change anything.” She stomped her way over to an excited Spike, who leaped into her arms. “I blew hot last night, but I gave myself a talking-to this morning. A couple hours of chopping with my cleaver today will have me right as rain.”
That made her lift her arm and sniff herself. Yep, she still could smell the onions. Spike wormed his way up to her face and gave her puppy kisses, which she allowed. Then she realized she hadn’t kissed Kyle. He’d kissed her before leaving to take Spike out, but still…
He’d been gone. He’d returned. They were supposed to do the whole kiss thing.
She leaned in and lifted up, kissing his unshaven jaw—she wondered if he hadn’t shaved because he hadn’t the energy. “You guys have a good morning?”
Lifting her chin, he kissed her softly on the mouth despite Spike trying to get in on the action. “We did. I thought Pierre might benefit from a little Dean time, so I dropped him off.”
Her insides crawled with guilt. “I was just going to see him, but spending time with Dean is probably a good idea. Did you…ah…happen to mention anything?”
“Like that fucker Dassault continuing his reign of terror on Nanine’s?” He nodded with a tight smile, running a hand through his ash brown hair. “You’d better believe it. I wanted to get Jacqueline’s take and see if she had any suggestions for how to fight it.”
Her stomach gripped. “There’s no fighting, Kyle, and trying will only perpetuate this string of suckiness.”
His brows drew closer—so not his usual calm veneer.
“I told you to trust that I would figure out a plan. That’s my job.
I’m not only doing it for you—although you’re top of the list. I’m doing it for Nanine, too, because she should never have had to deal with this crap in the first place.
I’m also doing it for The Paris Roommates Group and our family. ”
Family…the word thickened her throat and made her shift on her feet. The others were going to be so upset. She realized she would do anything to spare them.
“Speaking of… Do you plan on telling everyone? Because Thea needs to stay in her happy place. And don’t even get me started on what this would do to Nanine…”
Kyle’s flinty look would have made the bullies back in her neighborhood step back.
“I want to protect people as much as you do. I told Dean I’d hold off on telling them, but I plan on bringing in Brooke and Axel.
They’ll have ideas. I’m still wondering what to do about Sawyer.
He’s also in a new relationship and painting his heart out for his gallery show.
I don’t want to mess with his creativity. ”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
“We usually are,” he only responded, his gaze direct.
She was not going to feel guilty for being realistic. “I’m also not telling any of my staff. It’ll destroy their spirits.”
“I agree on the staff.” His voice held a tight edge that made her jittery. “I’ll only share my plan with those necessary.”
Plan? What good was a plan? She could feel herself wanting to fight him, but what was the point?
Her focus needed to be on doing her job.
She wouldn’t let this situation affect her performance.
The restaurant would open again on Tuesday night, and she would hunker down and perform with just as much excellence as usual. It’s what professionals did.
And in four weeks, when the Michelin guide didn’t award them a star, she’d say it was because she was a woman since only six percent of those awarded were female. They’d buy it.
Well, not the older ones who knew Nanine’s had been screwed by Dassault before.
God, she couldn’t think about what she’d say now. Not when Kyle was looking like her not backing him up was hurting him. She couldn’t take that.
“All right.” She waved her hand and crossed to him. “You go on and fight. I’ll cook. Can we agree on that for now? Because I really love you and don’t want you to be mad at me.”
He sighed deeply and wiped his brow with a free hand. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Yes, you are.” Where was his smile, the warmth in his eyes for her? He was retreating right before her eyes. “And if you can’t talk about it, fine. I’ll go make breakfast.”
In the kitchen, she decided to make omelets given the chopping it involved.
Attacking some onions, peppers, and ham would work wonders for her mood.
She cracked her back and got to work. When Kyle arrived and started playing tug-of-war with Spike, she was finally able to breathe. At least he wasn’t leaving the house.
By the time they finished eating, mostly in silence, she knew Kyle was still steaming mad but doing his best to put a lid on it.
She speared the last piece of green pepper, thinking he should be grateful she was even out of bed, dressed, and eating like a civilized person.
Then she shifted her perspective: he was upset, and as his best friend and partner, she needed to do something about it.
“So I chopped about thirty-one onions last night and crossed the whole star thing off my recipe card. What do you need to do? Because I don’t want us to be like this.”
“Neither do I.” He met her gaze, his jaw tense. “What if I told you I need you to fight?”
She reached for his hand, relieved when he took it. “I get it. Kyle, I’ve fought my whole life. But this time you need to trust me. I know when the odds are in my favor. This time they aren’t.”
“I can’t accept that.” His grip tightened on hers. “I frankly don’t believe you can. You’ve wanted a star for your entire career, and you’re just going to lie down?”
Spike gave a pitiful whine, so Kyle leaned down and winged the puppy’s toy across the room.
A yipping Spike gave chase. Madison wished her life were as simple as the one Spike had, but Kyle deserved an answer.
“Look, yes, it’s been my dream. Do I like it?
Not one bit. Would I punch Dassault in the nuts if I could?
You bet. Listen, sometimes life isn’t fair.
Nanine had to make peace with that fact. That’s what I have to do.”
By the end of her speech, she was gritting her teeth. When he looked off, she tried to swallow the bitterness in her throat. Of course it wasn’t easy. She was hanging on by a thread.
“I don’t like feeling powerless,” he admitted in a tight voice.
“That’s the worst part for me. The only people who make me feel like that are my parents, and I finally took care of that.
Now, I’ve got this fucker putting his foot to our neck.
I’m taking this very personally. I know it.
But there it is. I’m not going to take this lying down. I can’t.”
Spike ran over with a whine, setting the rope at Kyle’s feet.
She watched with an aching heart as he picked up the dog and held him against his chest. Great.
Now their puppy was upset too. “Look, I know how sucky it feels. But surely you’re the kind of person who knows that you’re the one who decides how to feel. ”
His baby blues met her eyes head-on. “I do. Mad, I hate feeling like I can’t help you get what you want. I mean, you’re cooking your heart out. William Silver said so and so have plenty of others. This isn’t right, and if I can’t help you—”
“Right this wrong?” Comprehension came, and her entire body started to tremble with it. “Then you won’t be the Golden Boy.”
“Dammit! Partly. But I also won’t be a good partner to you. I love you so much. I want you to have everything.”
There was a sudden drop in her stomach. Her heart thudded with love and hurt—emotions she’d run away from her entire life. She rose on trembling legs and came over to his side.
Gesturing to his lap, he eased his chair back to make room, and she hopped onto his thighs and wrapped her arms around him.
His arms tightened around her as he pressed his face into her neck.
They clung to each other, sharing their anger, their grief, and that damn bullshit powerlessness that wrecked even tough guys like them.
Spike started whining, so she reached down and lifted him up, fitting them together like they had been last night.
Like a family.
“Do you want to rumba or something?” she whispered in Kyle’s ear. “Get freaky in the kitchen? Take a walk? The awful Paris winter weather probably won’t mess up my perfect hair.”
His muffled laugh was strained. She gripped him tighter. Spike edged his way up to Kyle’s neck and proceeded to lick it. He jerked, sputtering out a laugh.
“Oh, did that tickle?” she said with a smile. She figured Kyle needed something to laugh about—they both did—so she eased back and let the little dog do his thing.
Kyle laughed and squirmed as she held the little dog in place, letting him continue his lick attack. The sound made her heart feel lighter, and soon she was laughing because he was. God, they were so weird.
When Spike finally grew tired and jumped down, picking up his rope, Kyle’s face wasn’t as tense. He cupped her face with a tenderness she was still getting used to and smiled. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
She had to bite back a clever comeback like It’s my perfect hair, right? Instead, she gave an answering smile and touched his jaw. “Yeah. And for some reason, I’m crazy in love with you, too.”
“Thank God.”
He kissed her softly and oh so slowly. She was sure an earthquake could have split Paris in two, and they wouldn’t have noticed.
“How long do we think we can leave Spike unsupervised?” she whispered against his lips.
“With his toys, I think we’ll have enough time for what I have in mind.”
Her belly tightened. “Great. You take care of our little buddy here. I’ll head upstairs and try and rub off this onion smell. You must feel like you’re making love to the winner of an onion rings competition.”
Smirking, he brushed back a strand of her stellar hair—yeah, she knew he liked it, although he wasn’t treating her any different. “I don’t mind it when it comes with you.”
“Gosh, sometimes you’re so funny.” She kissed him fast to cover up how touched she felt. “Maybe afterward, we can go for a drive in your snazzy sportscar and pretend we’re in a Fast and Furious movie where the good guys always win.”
He pulled her in for a heartbreaking kiss. “Get ready to have your engine revved.”
She backed out of the kitchen, wagging her finger. “Promises, promises.”
He was smiling like his normal self as she rushed to the stairs, so that was a victory.
But he’d given her a lot to think about.
She’d known he had layers. Today, he’d confessed to feeling powerless.
Another item to work on for Operation Kyle.