Page 105 of Angel Eyes

He arched a blond eyebrow. “Potential candidates to fill the new event coordinator position. We’ve gotten a ton of inquiries about hosting events at the restaurant ever since the website went live. Amélie’s been doing her best to field them, but it’s encroaching on her other responsibilities. And I’d offer to help myself, but I’m shit at party planning.”

“No, you’ve already got enough on your plate with the opening coming up.” I frowned down at the screen, scanning the list of names. “Have you prescreened these people?”

“If you’re asking whether I weeded out the overqualified, underqualified and past lovers who only applied for the position to have an excuse to stare at your handsome mug all day, then yes, I have.”

“If that last bit was an attempt at humor, then I should warn you I’m not in the mood.”

“I wish it was,” he said, shaking his head, “but unfortunately, I’m telling the truth. Remember Félicité, that go-go dancer from the nightclub we went to back in May? Yeah, you should have prescreened her before deciding to take her home for the night.”

I cringed. “The one we had to ban from the premises because she kept popping up looking for me?”

“The very same. Guess she thought she’d finally found a back-door entrance. You know, kind of how you found her back-door entr—”

“Finish that statement at your own peril, Martin,” I gritted out as he snickered, his lips pulling up in a self-satisfied smirk that reminded me eerily of myself.

Apparently, I had been rubbing off on the kid.

“I’ll take another look at these candidates and come back to you.” I slammed the laptop shut, more than ready to be done with this meeting. “Anything else we need to discuss?”

Caleb scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, there is, actually. I noticed you haven’t really been yourself lately. Something bothering you?”

I bit down on my cheek, internally cursing the fact that he was so observant. Ironically, his observation skills were one reason I’d kept him around after his new employee probation period had ended, offering him a full-time position as assistant manager. He had a singular talent for reading people, and he had successfully applied his talents to proposing several additions to staff as well as advancing the restaurant’s social media presence from virtually nonexistent to having a following of over 20,000 people. But, as invaluable as his talents were for business, I didn’t appreciate when he employed them on me.

“It’s nothing.”

The truth was, I’d been in some kind of mood ever since the morning I left Juliet’s place without saying goodbye. It had been a week and a half since then, and though she’d texted me a few times, I couldn’t bring myself to respond. Not after I realized the way I felt about her no longer had anything to do with some scheme involving Gabriel and Marcel.

I was starting to care for her—and that was dangerous.

People never chose me. Not my mother, not Marcel. Not even Caleb. As much as he shadowed my every move like a puppy, it was only because I paid him to do so. But when it came down to it, people didn’t care about me—they only cared about what I could do for them, and I doubted Juliet would be any different.

If she and lover boy hadn’t made up already, they would soon. Gabriel might have botched things the night of the gala, but I could tell Juliet meant something to him, enough for him to put aside his pride and ask me for help with Elise. Pair that with his unrelenting stubbornness, and I was certain he would stop at nothing to make things right with Juliet. And when he did, she wouldn’t need me anymore.

So, I bowed out early. Why wait around for the inevitable to happen, right? Right. Only, I hadn’t expected walking away from her to suck this much.

“So, who’s the girl?”

“What?”

His eyes glinted like a predator closing in on its prey. “Who. Is. The. Girl.”

I glowered at him, an uncomfortable heat creeping up my neck. “There is no girl.”

“Oh, okay, my mistake,” he said with a shrug. “A guy, then?”

“No.” I rose from my chair, striding over to the liquor cabinet. “I pay you to be my assistant manager, Caleb, not my therapist. So do us both a favor and cease with your pointless questions.” I poured a measure of whiskey, downing it in one go.

“Aww,” he whined. “And here I thought we were friends. Remember that time we went out for drinks in Le Marais and you told that one guy who kept following me to piss off or you would break his nose?” He nodded seriously. “Pretty sure you and I have been friends ever since.”

“I don’t have friends,” I said flatly, refilling my glass before returning to my seat.

“You might if you stopped acting like a prickly asshole.” He shifted forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. “Seriously, though, you’re not going to tell me about whatever girl’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“By all the saints. For the last time, there is no girl.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, there was a knock on the door, followed by Amélie poking her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone here to see you, Cristian.”

“Who?” I flipped through my calendar. “I don’t have any other appointments today.”

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