Page 12 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
He turned slightly on the couch to make eye contact again. “Actually… That’s a good lead-in to another piece of news. I told Gustave I’d be his point person for the article, and he called me from his cab right before you got up here. The guy can’t wait to do another feature with Pierre in it, saying it’s going to pull in huge readership. He wants to send a photographer from the newspaper over for a couple photos of you and Nanine and some of us in The Paris Roommates Group with—”
“Our new pet, right?” She put her face in her hands. “This is now a total Freddy Krueger nightmare.”
“I always thought Jason was scarier.”
“Seriously?”She dropped her hands. “I don’t know if I can be your friend anymore, but I’m probably going to have to suck it up because the people I know in the business are going to give me so much shit about this when they hear about my new love, Pierre. They’ll unfriend me on Facebook and delete any texts we’ve shared…”
He knew she was being a little funny, but he could tell she wasn’tonlybeing funny. He hadn’t thought of the impact on her career or even that she might genuinely care. “Will they see it? It’s a French newspaper.”
“Hello!” She flopped back against the back of the couch. “The chef I worked for in Miami is Parisian. He readsLe Mondeevery day. Trust me. Word will get out. That guy Gustave said it was his most-read article across his whole career.”
Yeah, Kyle felt like a cat licking cream when he thought of the media implications, but he didn’t like seeing Madison this upset.
“I’m going to be a laughingstock, Kyle, and while I don’t care what people think of me as a woman or person, I do care what they think of me as a chef.”
Shit. He tossed his phone aside. Being there for Madison was his number one goal right now. When she’d confessed in a moment of rare emotion that she had a ton of pressure on her shoulders with creating the new menu for the restaurant, he’d been extra diligent about making things easier for her. “If the parrot is nonnegotiable for you, we’ll find it another home. Make up some spin for Gustave so he doesn’t give us a hard time.”
He would miss the media attention, but he believed you made your own buzz. They would find another way.
“You’re serious?” she asked, looking him straight in the eye.
“Absolutely,” he answered, their gazes holding until she finally broke the stare and looked away.
Her heavy sigh filled the room, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if it chased away the dust motes dancing in the afternoon sunlight. He stared straight ahead, waiting for her to collect her thoughts. When Madison spoke, you listened. Especially when she voiced how she felt about something.
They were the same that way. Raised to be tough and protect themselves. Only he’d put on the glossy façade of the Golden Boy while she’d donned the rebel coat of complete badass. He sometimes envied her for her insistence on calling a spade a spade. Adding a sugar coating was so natural he sometimes didn’t even taste it anymore. Madison reminded him, and he needed that. Just like she needed him to sand the rough edges off her words and actions sometimes. And it was these thoughts that rolled through his mind at night when he fought the urge to go hang out with her in the kitchen, because he couldn’t help but think they could have a chance at something special. But God, the risk…
“This one is hard for me,” she said quietly, her usually flat or snarky voice rough with emotion. “Nanine made her opinion known.”
“She’s not the only one to consider here.” He made himself say words he couldn’t sugar up no matter how much sweetener existed in the world. “It’s your kitchen now, Madison. If Nanine’s receives a star, it’s because of you.”
She stomped her feet in frustration as she sat up straighter. “Dammit, I know that. I hate that. I want her in her kitchen, winning a star. One she should have been given years ago.”
He crossed his arms in reflex, feeling her tension beside him in every sleek muscle. “We all do, but that’s just not how it is. Let’s get back to the parrot.”
She turned to him and tucked a leg under herself. “Kyle, being a serious chef is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Some women want the big day, the life, the kids, the house, and the picket fence. Not me. I want a Michelin star. Cooking was my way out, and that star is my life plan. It’s my path to making sure I’m never condemned to a rat-infested shithole apartment in Liberty City where I grew up.”
Suddenly he had her shoulders and was gripping them tightly, looking into those vulnerable but determined eyes that made his emotions go haywire. “That’ll never happen! I swear to you, Madison. If I were close to my mother, I’d swear on her grave or something. I know you can take care of yourself and do anything you want, but if something ever happened, I’m there. Got it?”
She had to look away, and truthfully, he was glad. When they got like this, he floundered. He cared about her. Hard. Yes, he cared about all his roommates and Nanine in a way he’d never cared about anyone else, his parents and former fiancée included. But his relationship with Madison had an extra edge. Sometimes all that emotion didn’t feel so good. It felt scary as hell. Like climbing up a cliff covered in ice.
“My cleaver is there for you anytime too, Kyle.” She blew out a healthy breath, and he let his hands fall away despite wishing they could stay there. “We’re all in this together, all the way. But let’s get back to the parrot. I can’t unhear what Gustave said about Pierre actually helping with the Michelin committee. Even if it’s insane, if that parrot will help me win a star, I’ll do it. Because I don’t know if you looked it up, but Chez Papa had a star, won by Chef Beaumont when he had the brilliant Pierre by his side.”
He loved that she’d checked that out. “You caught the not-so-subtle drop about August Dassault interfering with Nanine receiving a star, right?”
“Yeah, that bastard.”
He would have spat on the ground if he could. “He misused his role as her teacher in culinary school—”
“I can’t take hearing that dark tale again, okay?” She rubbed her arms, and he wondered, not for the first time, how many men had made moves on her and tried to hurt her. “But if that bastard has been interfering with the committee, then one thing is obvious. Their daughter got her meanness from him. Because continuing to mess with her is a total scumbag move. I mean, he screwed her over three decades ago, and what? He felt some pressing need to hold her back too? I mean…he may be retired now, but his old restaurant still has his name. His oldthree-starMichelin restaurant, I might add. And he’s been inducted into the hoity-toityMaître Cuisiniers de Francethat Nanine will likely never be invited to join. You’d think he has a big enough slice of the pie.”
Kyle had grown up around those kinds of people, so he knew their shtick. “People like him aren’t satisfied unless they’re fucking with other people’s happiness. We’ve always wondered why Nanine’s hadn’t won a star. This makes sense. You think she’s known all along?”
“Yes.” Madison ground her palm into her fist. “She’d never say outright. You know her. Plus, she’s French. Private. She might consider us her chosen family, but she still has secrets. We all do.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “I don’t want there to be secrets between us.”
Something flashed in her eyes. “Whoa! Let’s not get super heavy here.”
