Page 35 of You Had Me at Chocolate

Jude supressed a horrified laugh at her snobbery. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re living at Clem’s house, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“It’s terrible what’s happened to poor dear Trina,” she tutted. “I do hope she’s recovering, well.”

“She’s… stable.” Jude was suddenly wary at questioning that had taken on an almost salacious tone.

Carol dropped her head on her side and regarded him for long moments, pursing her lips. “You’re the one who proposed to her, aren’t you?”

“Yep.” Right there in front of everybody.

“But she said no, right?”

He grimaced. “Uh-huh.”

“And do you think it’s appropriate to be living in her house after she rejected you?”

Jude blinked. Okay then. This was actually happening. Paris might well be full of French people but they were French people who minded their own damn business. No random busybodies pulling him up in the street to go all judgy on his ass.

His teeth ached to tell this woman to mind her own damn business but he took a steady breath instead. “It’s just until I find a rental. It’s okay,” he assured with a smile, “we go way back.”

“Be that as it may,” she said with a stern glare. “This isn’t Paris. It’s a small town, young man. People talk, you know?”

Oh yeah. He knew. He was pretty sure he was staring directly at people right now.

But she’d plowed on before Jude got a chance to answer. “She needs a good man in her life. The poor thing was heartbroken after Reuben and her split up last year.”

Jude wasn’t sure this was any of his business. He certainly didn’t want to hear it from a gossip on the streets of Marietta. But if Carol whatshername thought for a second that Clementine needed a man in her life then she really didn’t know the younger woman at all.

“She doesn’t need another man using her and leaving. If you know what I mean.”

Jude almost laughed out loud considering how thoroughly she’d used him night. “As I said,” Jude assured through tight lips, “it’s nothing like that.” The last thing he wanted was the old harridan passing around more gossip about them. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for an appointment.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond or wait for the signal to change to allow him to safely cross, he just turned away and strode across the road, anger propelling him all the way to the Graff. Taking a breath to shake off his irritation, he stepped into the plush lobby and headed directly for the kitchens looking for Edwin—another one of those French people.

They’d met last week when Jude had used the Graff kitchens for the wedding cake and he’d liked the man instantly. They hadn’t talked a lot but, as a fellow chef, he’d understood the man immediately. Edwin was all about the food and that made them cut from the same cloth.

The kitchens were in that lull between breakfast and lunch when Jude entered. Spotlessly clean stainless-steel counter gleamed under the downlights as he greeted some of the staff he’d met last week before spying Edwin. The other man welcomed him enthusiastically and they exchanged pleasantries in French as Edwin ushered them outside to the coffee machine where he made them both espressos.

Indicating they should sit at the deserted bar, Edwin switched to impeccable English—way more impeccable than Jude’s French—as he launched into his spiel.

“I know you’re looking around for some property to open an inn and I gather that working is off your radar for the moment but I was hoping to interest you in doing some decorative work for me, which should only take an hour or so each day?”

Jude took a sip of his espresso. “I’m listening. Go on.”

“I was impressed with the chocolate baskets you made for the individual cake slices at the wedding. It’s obvious from watching some of your decorative flourishes on Yes, Chef—”

“You watched Yes, Chef?” Jude interrupted. It had been his experience that working chefs were not fond of TV chefs.

Edwin grinned. “I streamed the first season over the weekend and fast forwarded to your bits.” Jude chuckled and Edwin continued. “You’ve clearly had a lot of experience with chocolate art and I’m wanting that extra something that can be added to the plate to really make our dessert menu stand out. The flashier and more intricate the better.”

“Okay.”

“There is a lot of culinary competition from Bozeman, particularly as we come into this time of year with Halloween, Thanksgiving, the Marietta Stroll in the first week of December, and then Christmas, of course. The Graff has always prided itself on standing out. Something like zis—” His first hint at an accent. “Could make all the difference.”

Jude liked the way the man thought. Food was about the eye as well as the stomach. “Surely you have someone on your staff who could perform that role for you?”

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