Page 39 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
When Nanine returned, Thea gave her the container while Brooke presented her with a fork. Madison paced, and Dean understood. Her praise meant everything. Nanine took her time tasting, her first bite slightly longer than the second. Handing Brooke the fork back, she turned to Madison and took that weird chef’s stance, much like a soldier delivering a report. “This must be on the menu.Absolutement!”
“But it isn’t really French!” Madison protested, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Did you not use French butter, white wine, and tarragon?” Nanine shot back.
She nodded before saying, “Really, guys. I threw this salad together in like two minutes after Pierre and I finished killing the lobsters.”
“It’s true!” Pierre called out.
Nanine walked over and took her hand, gazing at her warmly. “Genius is not bound to time, Fifth Course.”
“But it’s not complex or layered enough!” She grabbed her black hair and pulled. “The Michelin gods will see right through it.”
“No, they will not,” Nanine assured her. “But I will have my old mentor try the salad and see what he thinks. I’ll be back in a while.”
She took the container from Brooke and left through the back door.
“Dean, you’ve totally upset the new menu!” Madison started pacing again. “We’re probably six weeks away from the opening. You don’t just change the menu. I have a staff to train in the new recipes. And do you have any idea what kind of price point we’re dealing with on lobster salad? You guys are killing me.”
“Think of that star,” Kyle told her, jostling her shoulders. She glared, and he stepped back quickly but kept his gaze on her. “This is good news, Madison.”
She gave a dark growl and stalked out of the room.
“So what else did the beautiful Jacqueline say?” Kyle asked, leaning his hip against the counter.
Brooke sidled up next to Dean as the others lined up in front of the stainless steel surface. “Yeah. What else? And don’t leave anything out.”
He had a captive audience, so he decided to go with an idea he’d been kicking around on the way home. The parrot. The cave. The restaurant. Jacqueline. “This might be a little premature… What do you think about talking to Jacqueline about being the sommelier for Nanine’s?”
Kyle tilted his head to the side. “Hire someone who’s worked at a Michelin-starred restaurant and knows a winning dish when she tastes it?”
“Plus, she knows the cave, presuming we win it at auction,” Sawyer added, riffing on his idea. “She probably has stories like Nanine does about how the bottles were acquired.”
“There’d be potential fraternization issues, of course,” Kyle continued, stroking his jaw. “I’d trust you to handle that, Dean, assuming you continue dating.”
“That’s the plan,” he said, smiling, “and before Brooke says anything, I want to remind everyone that I don’t technically work at the restaurant.”
“That makes me feel better,” Brooke said, nodding with herlet’s get down to businesssmile. “Tell us what you’re thinking.”
Music to his ears.
CHAPTERTEN
His roommates had all gathered around the kitchen table, and it was obvious they all meant to fuss over him before his first official date with Jacqueline since the picnic so didn’t count.
Part of him thought it was sweet as he looked at everyone drinking wine. But he was also a little miffed because of their ongoing disrespect. They still didn’t think him capable of balancing the business aspect of the cave with his personal interest in his dream girl. Didn’t they understand it was a good thing that he and Jacqueline were having another date before the cave viewing? This had to stop.
“You’d think I’d never been out with a girl before.”
Brooke stood up and came around the table to where he’d dragged out a chair to sit. “I’ve talked to you before other big dates. I know you get nervous.”
“Unbelievable,” Dean muttered as she reached in to adjust his collar.
“Dean, you can’t help how you feel.” Thea leaned around Brooke, who’d sat down next to him, to pat him sweetly on the arm, her big eyes shot with both earnestness and worry. “You drool over this girl.”
“It’s true,” Pierre squawked happily from his perch.
“Speaking of.” Sawyer pulled out a freshly pressed handkerchief and passed it to Dean across the table. “I got you a fresh one, buddy, in case the slobber problem kicks up. Because you need to be on your game.”
