Page 91 of Chloé

“Nothing,” Chloé was quick to say. But Zayne wasn’t about to let her get away that easy.

“Red’s avoiding her reviews.”

“Is she now?”

“Yep. Won’t look online, won’t check her phone.”

“Because I don’t want to know.”

“Really?” Ethan walked over. “So you don’t want to know that you’ve missed six calls and over fifteen text messages in the last fifteen minutes?”

Seriously? Oh God, that meant the reviews were out—or at least starting to show up online. But no, she still didn’t want to know.

“They’re probably all calling to make sure I haven’t hurled myself off a building.”

“And why would you do that?”

Chloé crossed her arms and looked anywhere but at Ethan and Zayne. She’d never been one to shy away from the spotlight, but for some reason this felt different.

Last night had been monumental, a huge step in her career as a chef, and while she knew that reviews and critics were part of that job, was it really so bad that she wanted to ride the high of such an epic night for a little while longer?

“Chloé?” Ethan pressed.

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I don’t want to know if people didn’t like what I served.”

“And what if they did like it?”

“It doesn’t matter, because I might accidentally see the ones who didn’t.”

“Assuming thereareones who didn’t.”

Chloé let out a sigh, and Zayne wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Aw, it’s going to be all right, Red. Where’s that confidence from last night? I hardly think your family is going to send you bad reviews.”

He had a point. Her family would never send her a negative review. But the pressure she felt to live up to herpère’s standards was making her second-guess herself. He’d taken this country by storm when he burst onto the scene as the winner of the most popular cooking show, and then went on to become one of the most recognized chefs in the world.

He had Michelin stars, award-winning restaurants, contacts all around the world, and, well, Chloé knew that if she tanked last night, it would beeverywhere.

“You’re going to make me read them, aren’t you?”

“No.” Ethan headed through the patio doors, leaving her and Zayne to follow. “I’ll read them for you.”

Ugh, that was almost worse. At least if she was reading them, she could scroll through the shitty ones and just give them the CliffsNotes.

“Chloé?” Ethan reached over on the outdoor couch and squeezed her knee. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Fine.” She blew out a breath. “But just the headlines. You can always tell the tone by the headlines.”

Zayne tugged her into his side as Ethan opened her phone.

“We were right—the messages are from your fathers and Justin, and a couple from Shayla.” He opened it up and then looked over at her. “Ready?”

No.“Yes.”

“‘Like father, like daughter. It appears that the Thornton-Priestley name is synonymous with fine French cuisine…’”

“Hey now.” Zayne’s eyes widened in excitement. “That’s pretty fucking great.”

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