Page 40 of Julien (Confessions 2)

He was struggling right now, trying to keep his shit together for what was about to happen. But that was easier said than done when your mind was elsewhere, and his most certainly was.

All day, he had been on his staff. Barking orders, complaining about everything he saw and tasted, and being more temperamental than usual, all under the guise of preparing for this afternoon’s spotlight. But he knew better, and so, he suspected, did Lise.

He was running. Or, at least, he was trying to outrun the memories that seemed to be inundating him whenever he stopped. Whenever he shut his eyes. Whenever there was a second of silence. And he knew why—he’d let her back in.

Julien swallowed around the lump in his throat and put a shaky hand up on the wall. Breathe, he told himself. In and out. Breathe…

This right here was exactly what Julien had been worried would happen when Robbie started asking questions about Jacquelyn. This crippling, soul-crushing metamorphosis that overtook his body without any fucking say from him.

He’d thought that maybe, just maybe, things would be different this time around if he opened up about her in a positive light. That if he started out with the good with Robbie, it would make things easier on them both when he got to the bad—but no. Last night was proof of that, and if he had to work himself to the bone to keep Jacquelyn’s lifeless image out of his head, then he would grind that bone to dust.

Julien checked the time again, and saw it was right on five. Gail should be there at any moment. Oui, think about that. Think about what you’re going to say to her and what questions she might ask.

This was the part he’d thought would eventually get easier when he first shot to stardom on Chef Master. The celebrity side of being on television, of winning a competition that went on to launch his career. He’d thought that the more he did interviews, the easier they would get, but non.

No matter how many he agreed to, written or televised, it never got any easier to talk about himself and yet keep silent about one of the biggest parts—his family. They were, and had always been, off-limits from the very beginning. He’d made sure of it after the first win he had on Chef Master with the infamous cheese soufflé.

That was the day he’d made sure his secrets would stay just that—a secret.

“JULIEN.”

AS HIS name registered with him, Julien looked up from the white ramekin sitting on the stainless-steel counter and stared over the heads of the other contestants to where Graham Boyd, the host of Chef Master, stood.

“If you could please bring your dish down to the front, I’d like to take a closer look at it.”

Julien’s heart skipped a beat, and then it kicked into gear and made his pulse race as he picked up the plate he’d displayed his meal on and carefully walked with it up to the front of the stage.

His workspace was third from the back, and as he walked past the one in front of him, he heard a fellow contestant—Brady Johnson—mutter something.

Julien stopped and glanced over at the blond quarterback from Crosby, Texas, who’d been nothing but a loudmouthed asshole from day one, and wanted to tell him that if he had something to say then he should speak the hell up.

But then Julien remembered why he was there, and the words a certain lawyer had said to him a couple of months ago: “Find something you love, or at least like better than yourself right now, and get your shit together. Once you do that, then come see me, and I’ll give you exactly what you’re asking for.” And Julien decided that Brady Johnson wasn’t worth him missing out on the sinful promise that Priest had made.

When Julien got to the front of the stage, the cameramen moved all around him and Graham, making sure they were in prime position for exactly the right shot, and Julien put his plate down on the black tablecloth and took a step back.

“Very nice, Julien,” Graham said as he reached out and turned it first to the left and then the right. “You’ve kept it simple but stylish. I’m impressed.”

“Je vous remercie,” Julien said, his French automatically slipping off his tongue, and Graham glanced up at him and smirked.

“Right, let’s see if it tastes as good as it looks.” Graham picked up a fork, but before he sank it into the fluffy top of the soufflé, he paused, all dramatic, and asked the question that would inadvertently land Julien—a quiet contender on the show so far—on the radar of everyone in America. “And who did you make your most ‘meaningful’ meal for tonight?”

As the words registered with him, Julien processed them and told himself to just lie.

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