Page 36 of Sawyer
What if something had happened to her?
Fuck it, he would go. What she thought of it was her deal. He had a right to be concerned. They were best friends. They were roommates. They were?—
He needed to stop thinking. Right the fuck now. “I’ll grab my coat and meet you at the front door.”
Sawyer arrived in the foyer in fresh clothes, and given the water droplets in his hair, he’d tried to clean up some paint. The night was cold when they let themselves out, but that wasn’t a surprise. December had arrived in Paris, and already Thea was talking about her wish for one of Paris’ magical snowstorms.
He got it. There was something pretty damn special about Paris in the snow. Then again, Paris anytime worked for him. Always had.
The walk to the restaurant was quick, what with it being around the corner.
Kyle could feel the ripple of nerves in his stomach as theyreached the back door. How would she react when she first saw him? Would her gorgeous golden eyes narrow in aggravation? Or would a soft smile slip out before she stopped it because she liked that he cared?
Sawyer was opening the back door with his key, Kyle following him inside, as Nanine’s chandelier gave a welcoming jangle. The warmth from the kitchen was a welcome rush to his cold face.
The scene before him was not.
Chef Rico Gurat was standing at a spotless stainless steel counter with Madison, drinking mezcal and looking way too cozy.
Madison’s head swung toward him, her face blanching with shock before it shuttered like a car putting up tinted windows. He couldn’t read her. That was the point.
And it fucking hurt.
“Hey!” Sawyer called out, not breaking stride. “I’ve emerged from my artistic chrysalis and needed food. Bread and foie gras were not enough to fill this hollow human shell.”
Madison gave Sawyer an indulgent smile. “Eat whatever you can find in the walk-in, Doc. You’ve been at it for days. You remember Chef Rico, right? We worked together atLa Fleurin Miami, and he’s head chef at?—”
“Maison Su,which means House of Fire.” Sawyer extended his hand. “I like how you combined French and Basque in the name. Good to see you again. It was great of you to join the other chefs to taste Madison’s menu before Nanine’s reopened.”
The guy’s mouth curved into a self-indulgent smile that irritated the hell out of Kyle. “Clearly our input was useful since all of Paris is talking about Nanine’s.”
“In your dreams, Rico,” Madison shot back. “I’d nailed that baby before you guys came through the door, and you know it.”
“I might be persuaded to admit that—after you agree to go salsa dancing with me.”
Salsa dancing?
Then Chef Rico smiled fuller, what Kyle thought of as a smarmy smile.
God, he was jealous. He hadn’t felt like this when he’d met Rico at the menu tasting. Then again, the chef hadn’t given a hint that he was interested in Madison. He’d merely been another hot shit chef whom Madison had wanted present. That had been enough for Kyle at the time, but now he wanted to toss him out the back door.
“Sawyer, tell your friend here,” Rico continued, “that she has been working too hard and needs to let her hair down. I remember the first week after opening my restaurant. I’d smoked so many cigarettes my fingertips were yellow, and my eyes were red from the lack of sleep.”
“Madison looks pretty good compared to that,” Kyle answered, stepping toward the group finally and extending his hand because that’s what real men did. “Nice to see you again, Chef Rico.”
“You as well, Kyle.” He gestured toward Madison. “You must let your star chef out more, though. I brought celebratory mezcal, but I know Madison from all our time together in Miami. Her soul is restless. She needs more than the jewel of Oaxaca. She needs music and dancing.”
His ground his teeth, hearing Rico talk about Madison’s needs. He stole a glance at her, but nothing in her expression told him what she was thinking. She might as well have built a wall between them. He waited a beat, studying her face. Shedidlook tired and restless. Suddenly he wanted to kick himself. Why hadn’t he asked more pointed questions about what she needed? What she’d done to shake off the pressure back in Miami?
Then he remembered Madison telling him recently thatshe missed speaking Spanish sometimes. Rico did, being half French Basque and half Spanish.
“Madison is the last person I would tell what to do, Rico,” Kyle finally answered. “She always knows what she needs.”
The wall fell. Just like that. Her eyes turned a warm gold, and he could see his friend again.
They shared a smile. It hurt. It reassured him. It made him want—impossible things.
“Maybe some dancing would be fun,” she finally said, turning to where Sawyer was emerging from the cooler with his arms full of containers. “You up for some dancing, Doc?”
