Page 15 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
“But serving a dinner-only menu would give you more time, wouldn’t it?” he pressed, knowing she could hear the intensity in his voice and not caring. “Plus, it makes reservations with us more exclusive. Dammit, did you really leave a Michelin-starred restaurant in Miami to keep working the same way? I thought you were also here to be with us, the people you think of as family. In Paris. Where the entire culture is about working to live well.”
A guarded expression came into her eyes. “Maybe I’m not built for that.”
He made himself scoff. “If you weren’t, you would be in another huge food town. You chose Paris. Hell, you’ve told me yourself how crazy it is that a mixed kid from an American and Colombian background from Liberty City took to French cuisine like a duck on a June bug. It’s more than the food, and you know it.”
She looked off toward the windows. “How did this become an argument?”
Because he was too emotional where she was concerned. “Let’s say it’s a healthy callout. You’ve helped me find a better way to balance life and work after Paisley.”
“I have?” Her gaze was more than wary. It was suspicious.
He wondered if he’d just given himself away and reached for a poker face. “You and I are the most alike in some ways, so yeah, when you tell me something, I listen. I was hoping it went both ways.”
She nodded slowly. “So you want to hang out with me more?”
Normally, if he were attracted to someone he couldn’t pursue, he’d avoid them, but she was his friend. He couldn’t cut himself off from her and be happy. Hell, he didn’t want to. He would figure out a way to walk this tightrope until the attraction passed. “I’m sure I’m not the only one. I mean, you might even try talking to me without a wooden spoon in your hand.”
Something flashed in her eyes before she picked at the seam of her black jeans. “I’m menu planning—”
“Which I support,” he was quick to add. “I’m your business partner. But I feel like I’m watching little children hand sew carpets by bad light when I watch you work all the time.”
The grimace wasn’t just for show. “That bad? Your therapy elephant is looking better and better.”
He appreciated the levity. “Too bad it won’t fit in here next to Sawyer’spetit atelier.”
She lowered her chin to her chest. “You’ve already started looking at places, haven’t you?”
He tensed, his mind fixating on one thing: God, did she know him. Better than anyone. “I plan for success. It’s who I am.”
“The dreamer below has brought a parrot into our lives who will get us some major media attention.” She huffed out a serious breath. “You’redetermined to create a personal and business environment in which everyone can have space and balance in their lives. Like Sawyer said, who am I to stop you from being you?”
Few people had supported the true him, and her admission brought back that dangerous feeling that hadn’t really gone away. “So you’ll consider what I said while I pitch these topics to the others, Nanine included?”
Her nod was slow but powerful. “You asked me to trust you, and I gave you my word. I don’t break my word, Kyle.”
That was one of the things he loved best about her. “Great. Glad that’s decided. Now about the cave…”
Her wary expression transformed, her eyes shining with intensity. “We are so going to get that cave. And guess what? We have the perfect space for it!”
She was such a smart-ass. “Even if we have to use Dean’s boyish charm? Because maybe we’re looking at this wrong. Perhaps his winning personality will actually help our cause.”
She gave a feral grin. “If I have to take a photo forLe Mondewith Pierre the talking parrot, Dean can sweet-talk his dream girl, who happens to be selling a Michelin-starred cave.”
He held out his hand, which she took and shook with as much strength and confidence as any man he knew. “In fact, why don’t we go see the cave as soon as possible so he can meet her? I’ll circle back with Brooke to get it planned.”
“Good thinking. After my photo shoot with the parrot. To show Jacqueline what a good home we’ve given her beloved Pierre.”
Damn but she was a good sport. “I can already see the announcement of our three Michelin stars on the new website Dean is designing.”
Her grin slipped a little and pure fire flashed in her eyes. “Three, Kyle? Straight out of the chute?”
“I always aim for home plate, Madison. So do you.”
Another moment of silence had him wanting to look away, but since she didn’t, he didn’t. God, how was he supposed to handle caring about her so much and this new awareness of her as a hot and beautiful woman?
After staring at him for another long moment, she swallowed thickly but managed a crisp nod. “Then three it is. But you’re so going to buy me a drink when the news comes in.”
He’d buy her the moon and all the stars in the universe if he could, and that thought was as scary as all the feelings coursing between them. “First round, sure, but you might consider buying me a drink too, you know. I’m not just a silent investor here. I’m going to pull my weight with the parrot, after all. He can’t monopolize your time while you’re menu testing or training the staff on the recipes. I’ll take him to a movie. Get him out of the house.”
