Page 13 of All Mine
Isabella: Don’t worry, I actually had a little taste of something naughty earlier. . .
Chapter Six
Etienne
Etienne grinned every time he thought of it over the next few days. The way her mouth had fallen slightly open as his lips had touched her wrist. The way he’d heard her quick intake of breath– a real-life gasp– as he had opened his mouth and pressed his tongue against that gorgeous olive skin. How those blue eyes of hers had widened and the pupils had darkened even as he watched.
‘What’s put a smile on your face then, mate?’ Mickey asked. He was in early, apron over his chef’s whites, preparing for the new seasonal menu, chopping vegetables at a million miles an hour. Autumn was on its way and it was time to move away from the chicken braised in mustard and on to the beef bourguignon. Every season, Etienne made a slight variation to a starter, main and dessert, to ensure all the regular customers had something new to try when they came in. Over the past four years he had built up a solid customer base. However, with no catering experience himself, he relied on Mile End Mickey to bring the dishes to life. And he’d never failed him yet. The chef came from the East End of London, but he nailed French cuisine as if he’d been born in Paris.
‘Get lucky last night, did you?’ Mickey nudged him in the ribs with a meaty elbow and Etienne grunted, shaking his head. Funny. He’d not responded to anyone on his dating apps. Not since he got the message from Alex. Or since Isabella turned up on the square. Although the two things were unconnected, he felt that they were both giving him issues. He was slightly off his game.
‘I don’t see it myself, mate,’ Mickey continued with a wink. ‘All these women that throw themselves at your feet. Or into your bed. I mean. . .’– he paused and looked him up and down– ‘it’s not like you’re a six-foot-three sex god, is it!’
Etienne rolled his eyes and passed him a serving plate. Mickey spooned out the beef and handed him a fork. They both took a mouthful and stared at each other for a reaction as they ate. Etienne caved in first, making a long, low moan of appreciation. Mickey then smacked his lips together and broke into a smile of victory.
‘Right, out of my way then. I’ve got a batch to make for tonight.’ Mickey pointed at the door. Etienne swiped another forkful of meat before he left.
The restaurant was empty. The places were set. Etienne wandered aimlessly between tables for a moment, looking for something to do. Not wanting to think about the text he’d had, the one he’d been waiting to see for four years, but unable to focus on anything else.
Alex: I want to come home.
After all this time. More than 1,500 days of calling or checking for messages. Over fifty months of hoping to hear something. Anything.
Etienne had replied, almost immediately. His fingers trembled as he typed the message.
Come back.
It was only as he pressed send and exhaled that he realised he’d been holding his breath. But since then, nothing. He pulled out his phone and looked at the stream of messages he had sent since.
Hello?
Are you okay?
Hello?
Did you get this?
Talk to me.
And then, again, in desperation last night.
Just come back. We can sort it out.
Nothing.
He flicked to the WhatsApp that was always busy instead.
Brothers from Another Mother WhatsApp group
Walker: Seen the new restaurant owner again, Etienne?
Etienne: Saw her yesterday. Long story but licked her arm.
Walker: I wouldn’t expect anything else.
Fox: Has she fallen into your bed yet?
Etienne: No. Although happy to keep trying.
