Page 37 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

Opening my eyes reluctantly, I meet her gaze. “Because I am.”

That man may drive me bonkers and make me want to stab him with my kitchen knife…but he knows how to create an incredible restaurant space. As much as I complain about fine dining, he’s done it right. It’s elegant yet rustic. Stunning and comfortable without being stuffy.

She offers me a sympathetic smile. “Sorry.”

I offer a laugh I don’t feel and wave her off as I climb to my feet to walk her to the door. “You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

“I know. It just felt like the right thing to say. I mean…I don't want my husband's business to fail. But I don't want yours to, either. There has to be some middle ground.”

For a brief moment the other night, I thought perhaps that was true. When Jameson's hand brushed over my cheek so tenderly. When he stared into my eyes and sent my heart fluttering. But then, just as quickly, his mask of assholeness slipped back into place and he walked out of here without a glance back like he owned me.

Well, no man has ever owned me or ever will.

I have no intention of letting Jameson Fury win this restaurant battle or me. “I appreciate any help you can offer, Sylvie.”

She pats me on the shoulder and steps out into the warm summer air and sunshine. “I'll do my best. Now, the boys are waiting for me. Let me see what I can find out.”

With another wink at me, she makes her way next door. The thought of following her in is very tempting. And honestly, I doubt they would kick me out if I tried to get a peek of what they’ve done since the last time I was in there.

It's not like I could copy them even if I wanted to steal any of their ideas. I don't have the kind of money or resources to do anything even remotely like what they have going on.

But my feet remain planted as she disappears inside. Sylvie offered to be my eyes and ears over there. I'm going to let her.

It's best that I keep my distance from Jameson.

For his sake and my own.

* * *

JAMESON

The door to the restaurant opens and closes, the sound echoing through the vaulted ceilings and off the empty tables back to me in the kitchen.

I stick my head out and see a familiar red shock of hair. “Hey, Sylvie. We’re back here.”

She waves and makes her way across the hardwood floors, her heels clicking on the surface as she takes in everything in a way that makes me hold my breath in anticipation.

Shit. I didn’t think I’d be this nervous for her to see the place.

I wasn't kidding about what my “friend” said about Sylvie. The woman is shrewd, and she knows exactly what she likes when it comes to interior decorating, food, and men and certainly isn’t afraid to speak her mind about her feelings. She doesn't make things easy on Grant, and there's no way she is going to here, either.

If she doesn’t like something, she’s going to let us know quickly and without mincing words.

She reaches me and leans in to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Hey, where's my husband?”

I tilt my head toward the kitchen. “Stuffing his face with various menu items.”

With a laugh, she follows me back to where Grant sits on a stool pulled up to the counter, several dishes spread out in front of him.

He glances up at her and waves his fork. “Hey, babe.”

Sylvie leans in and gives him a kiss that would definitely not be appropriate if children were around, and I offer an exaggerated gagging noise as I return to the pot on the stove.

“Oh, stop it!” Sylvie chuckles. “We’re all adults here. And we get so little time alone without the kids that we need to take advantage.” She scans all the items on the counter. “I thought the menu was already set?”

Grant gives a bemused grin. “That’s what I said when I got here.”

I just scowl at them. “It is. It was.” This is difficult to explain to anyone who doesn’t share my obsession. It has to be perfect. And now, I’m second-guessing everything. “But after my little moment on the morning show, I'm starting to reconsider.”

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