Page 57 of Angel Eyes

“You’re twenty-five,” I said dryly.

“Well, maturity-wise, he’s twelve at best.” Amélie hurried along at my other side, matching my pace despite her small stature. “Did he tell you he left me in your office with that awful man?”

“You asked if you could help,” Caleb quipped. “You helped. I don’t see what the issue is.”

“He asked me if I was over eighteen,” she shot back.

My mouth tightened as I unlocked my office door. “And to think, all this time, I thought I was running a restaurant. Imagine my surprise to find it doubles as a daycare.”

Caleb snickered as he entered the room behind me, followed by a thwacking noise that sounded suspiciously like Amélie’s clipboard against the back of his head. I rounded the mahogany desk at the center of the room, eyeing the liquor cabinet in the far corner as I lowered myself into my high-backed leather chair.

No time for a drink, more’s the pity.

“Enough fooling around,” I said. “Let’s get started.”

Amélie glanced up from her clipboard. “Will she be joining us?”

A muscle in my jaw twitched as I flipped open my leatherbound diary, uncapping a fountain pen. After a long beat of silence, I looked up again. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Amélie’s rose-gold hair shimmered as she shook her head. “First on the agenda is we need to decide what artwork will be displayed in the dining room. Our buyers have sent over a selection of traditional pieces, including a few landscapes of the French countryside, but …” She hesitated, her eyes flitting to Caleb. He returned her gaze, raising an eyebrow.

I blew out an exasperated sigh. “If you two are done eye-fucking, I’d like to get through this meeting before I die of old age.”

Amélie’s face flushed. “Sorry, I was just going to say I think we should consider featuring some pieces from local artists instead.”

“And why is that?”

She smoothed a hand over the front of her fitted blazer. “When guests come to Marcel’s, we want them to have an authentic encounter with our beautiful city, to experience Paris in the best way possible. From the fresh cuisine to the vintage décor to the panoramic views. But Paris is more than the sum of its history and culture. It’s also the people who live here. They are the true lifeblood of this city. So, we—”

“She,” Caleb interjected.

She pursed her lips. “I suggested that, rather than going with the current offerings, we pivot and seek out some unique original pieces that truly capture the essence of Paris.”

She lifted her chin as I regarded her for a moment.

My lips twitched. “Good work, Amélie. You’ve clearly put some thought into your proposal. You should apply for the assistant manager position when it becomes available. I heard there may be a vacancy soon.” Caleb straightened in his chair, his face twisting in horror. I arched an eyebrow at him. “Next item on the agenda.”

Amélie laughed into her wrist as Caleb scowled, muttering under his breath as he powered up his laptop. “Here is the current website. I would say it’s just about finished.”

I looked at the screen. “The home page looks good, and the design accurately embodies the restaurant’s brand.” I paused, clicking through to the menu page. “But this needs a bit more work. Technically, all the menu items are here, but—”

“We need professional photos,” he said, swiveling the computer screen back toward him. “If we could get a few shots of the restaurant’s premier dishes, perhaps the filets de sole cardinal or les ravioles au foie gras, it would liven up this page. Not to mention food imagery on digital menus can increase sales and generate new interest. I’ve already prepared a list of photographers for you to consider.”

“Very good. Email it to me. Otherwise, the website is coming along nicely. Good work.” Glancing up, I caught the tail end of Amélie’s eye roll as Caleb sneered at her.

I pressed a finger to my temple.

These two and their childish rivalry would be the death of me.

“Anything else?”

Amélie flipped through her notes. “The new executive chef arrives tomorrow, but you already knew that. He’ll want to meet with you to finalize the menu. Other than that—”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

A shard of ice slid through my veins as my gaze landed on the figure standing in the doorway, her amethyst eyes piercing beneath a fan of dark lashes, her crimson lips curling. I could feel the weight of Caleb and Amélie’s twin looks of horror, but I kept my eyes straight ahead.

“Dismissed.”

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