Page 6 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
Her nude-painted mouth tipped up to the right. “They are, as a matter of fact. We are brokering the auction. In a month’s time. Would you like to see the inventory?”
His heart pounded in his ears as he glanced at the list she handed him. Nanine had had some of these very bottles! It was like he was being led to exactly where he needed to be today.
Dean let his grin fly. “Well, I just bought their parrot. Why not their cave?”
CHAPTERTWO
Dean was carrying a birdcage!
Brooke’s already tense stomach trembled as he walked in. What in the world was he doing? Redecorating? That was her forte. Nanine’s famous chandelier gave a loud jangle at the interruption as if to say,weren’t things going badly enough?
The reporter fromLe Mondewho was doing her a favor by talking to Nanine and Madison about the restaurant was clearly a bit bored. Since Nanine didn’t want anyone to know she’d been scammed by her own daughter, they’d decided to combat the speculation by giving a feel-good interview focusing on the return of the Paris Roommates, now a new hospitality group, and their longtime relationship with Nanine, whom they were helping renovate and run the restaurant after her heart attack.
But either the feel-good aspect wasn’t pinging this reporter’s interest or he wasn’t excited by news of yet another brasserie reopening, even one with such an august history.
And now this…
She forced a smile at Gustave, whose face tightened with near disgust at the rude interruption. God, he was so French. Sure, the sleek middle-aged reporter had seemed interested in certain aspects of the story, including the angle about them going into business together, led up by Kyle, who’d had so much success in restaurant entrepreneurship in the U.S. Then there was Madison’s history, as a chef in a Michelin-starred restaurant in Miami, and the puzzle of what had happened to the restaurant itself. Nanine had cracked a rare joke about believing for a moment that the infamous Paris rats had eaten the front of her restaurant while she was on vacation, which must have cost her dearly. They’d offered no more details than that, and thank God Gustave hadn’t pressed. But the overall tenor of the talk had been that he didn’t wish to be here, and whatever Dean was up to wouldn’t help.
Sawyer cast her adon’t kill melook, and all she could do was clench her hands in her lap as the group walked closer to the kitchen’s worktable, where she, Nanine, Kyle, and Madison were seated with the reporter.
“Hi!” Dean called out to their party, looking way too pleased with himself. “Don’t mind me. I just need to—”
“Take our new parrot upstairs,” Sawyer broke in with a tight smile.
A parrot?What in the—
Dean pulled off an ugly burgundy throw with ancient fringe, revealing a gray-feathered parrot, sure enough. Someone sucked in their breath. Nanine? The parrot used his beak to open the door and then left the cage. If that wasn’t enough of a shock, the gray bird alighted on Dean’s arm as if they were best friends, nodding its sloped head enthusiastically.
“J’adore votre cuisine.”
He liked their kitchen? Brooke snapped her mouth shut and shot Gustave another polite smile. The decision to restrict the interview to a smaller group had been wise, apparently. Because one of their partners was a lunatic!
Dean must have sensed her unease because he upped the wattage of his easygoing grin. “Sorry to interrupt the interview. I thought it was later—”
“The time changed,” Nanine grandly informed him in English, raising a regal brow. “Dean, I am sure you have a very good reason for having a parrot in my kitchen.”
The wattage dipped only a few volts before he punched it back up. “Nanine, this little guy is—”
“Is that the parrot of Chef Beaumont?” the reporter interrupted in English.
“Chef Beaumont, of the Chez Papa restaurant?” Brooke asked as she rocked back in her chair.
Nanine’s brow rose higher. Madison pressed her hand to her forehead. Kyle’s brows slammed together. They all knew the name and the restaurant, of course—and about the parrot, which had been Beaumont’s not-so-secret culinary ally. Her father had taken her to Chez Papa a few times, and she’d even taken a photo with the bird. He’d been a major draw, but this development couldn’t have come more out of left field.How could Dean have pulled off this coup? And why?
“Well, yes, it is!” Dean tickled the parrot’s neck and grinned, digging an article out of his pocket. “I only bought him moments after a family member deposited him at the pet store. It was kismet, as they say.”
She loved Dean like a brother, but kismet and Dean were a dangerous combination.
But then the reporter took the newspaper clipping, his previously polite yet bored visage changing into one of amused warmth. “Why, itisPierre!” he exclaimed in French, thrusting the clipping back at Dean and coming to his feet. “And I was the one who wrote the article you are holding. In fact, it remains one of my most read articles.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Dean playfully tipped to the side as if the news had literally bowled him over.
Suddenly, the energy in the room was vibrant, and Brooke had been in enough press interviews to know a game changer.
“C’est moi, Gustave,” the parrot confirmed, using the reporter’s first name.
Holy—
