Page 54 of All the Gossip from Paris
She tapped a finger gently on the tip of Liam’s nose. “And if you are a good boy, you can put on an apron. I’ll let you play chef de jour.”
As she went to pull her hand away, Liam drew her back. The look on his face had turned less playful. “I haven’t been in a commercial kitchen for a while. I might need a bit of time to get my head around the idea.”
She didn’t want to pressure Liam into doing anything that made him feel uncomfortable. “We can go later. When you’re ready,” replied Sophie.
“Thanks. I’ll leave you to get dressed. I need to find Camille and check with her on something. It’s urgent.”
Liam headed for the door, leaving Sophie alone in the atelier. As she slipped her shirt back on, she pondered the obvious question. Why would he need to get his head around being in a kitchen?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The chateau’s main kitchen was nothing short of enormous. Little wonder the Royals had been able to cater for over four hundred wedding guests without a problem. Unlike the last time he’d been here, Liam couldn’t linger outside.
As he walked around the room, he counted four commercial sized ovens. There were five specialized work stations. Not to mention a huge walk in cool room. He’d been inside enough kitchens in major hotels and restaurants to know this place could handle anything that was thrown at it.
“This is a Sauté station for sauces, pan fried food, and sauteed dishes. That one is a Poissonnier station, for fish,” said Sophie, pointing to the other end of the room. “And then we have the Rôtisseur station which is for meat. The Entremetier station for vegetables. And finally the Pâtissier station. Which is for bread and pastries among other things.”
“And desserts,” added Liam, suddenly swallowing down a lump of dread.
He wasn’t prepared for the painful memories which came flooding back. Memories of the last time he’d been inside a commercial kitchen. Of what he’d seen that night.
Even the joy he found in being with Sophie couldn’t hold back the dark mood which threatened.
Breath. Slow. In and out. Calm.
Liam had to fight the almost overwhelming urge to flee.
Sophie gave him a gentle pat on the arm. “Don’t panic, Liam. I wasn’t going to ask you to cook. You’re with the Royal sister who is not afraid to pick up a knife and slice into something. Cami on the other hand couldn’t cook a piece of toast to save her life. I’m actually quite handy in the kitchen.”
Fuck. This could get really weird.
The first sting of tears forced Liam to finally make a decision. There was nothing for it—he was going to have to tell Sophie the truth about why he was so on edge in her family’s kitchen.
“Are you ok, Liam?” she asked.
He sucked in a deep breath and composed himself. “I told you Brooke, my ex fiancée was a chef. I spent a lot of time in kitchens with her. We used to cook up a storm at our old apartment in Queens. I haven’t been near a commercial kitchen since the night I found her and another guy naked…”
Sophie met his gaze, but said nothing. She was clearly waiting for him to offer up more. To share his heartache. To do as she’d done. Trust another person with their pain.
“Brooke cheated on me with someone who I thought was my best friend. Turns out he was a two faced prick. He’d been hooking up with her in secret for over six months, when I finally walked in on them.”
“Merde. That’s low. And believe me, I know a thing or two when it comes to having an unfaithful partner,” replied Sophie.
Her ex Patrice seemed just the sort who would screw around. At the same time he’d still want to keep a woman like Sophie Royal on the end of a leash. Only a damn fool would ever let her go.
She took a hold of his hand. “Let’s not get into a session of trauma dumping—that would really spoil the mood. And my appetite. How about we just agree that we’ve both been burned by other people and leave it at that. A broken heart shouldn’t ruin your love of good food for the rest of your life.”
Liam let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His therapist would be disappointed. He’d spent a fortune on sessions, learning how to deal with his issues in a healthy manner. And at the first real challenge, he’d gone back to clenching his teeth and holding his breath.
“Let’s not give other people that sort of power over us. Though I must confess I’m still holding a serious grudge. I might have gone to their wedding but that didn’t?—”
“What?! You went to their wedding,” exclaimed Sophie, cutting him off. “Non. I couldn’t have done that.”
“I know it sounds ridiculous, but our families are all close. My parents do business with Brooke’s folks. My friend was someone who’d been a part of my life since I was a kid. I think I was still in a state of denial right up until the moment they said, ‘I do’.”
The official line had been that he and Brooke had decided to call off their engagement. She’d only fallen into her now husband’s arms on the rebound. It was a flat out lie, but he didn’t have the strength to call bullshit.
It was one of the reasons why he’d embraced his career as a world travelling photographer. There was safety in international borders. If he was out of the country, he couldn’t run into his ex.
