CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Nanine’s famous chimes clanged sharply as the back door blew open.
Madison swung around from the stove, turning toward their visitor along with the rest of her staff. Pierre released a startled squawk from her shoulder.
Thea was breathing hard, her cheeks pinkened by the winter wind. “Madison, can I talk to you?”
Madison waved a hand telling her staffnothing to see here, even though clearly there was cause for alarm. They returned to their preparations as she strode quickly toward the door, Pierre flying off toward his perch.
Thea was practically shaking in the winter coat she hadn’t bothered to button over her bakery uniform.
“Come with me,” Madison said. Grabbing Thea’s hand, she dragged her up Nanine’s circular stairs to their newly private second floor. “What happened?”
Thea bent over at the waist. “I ran the whole way. I couldn’t reach Kyle. My call went straight to voicemail.”
“Meaning he’s on the phone…”
“Right! This couldn’t wait!”
She grabbed her friend’s shoulders, bringing those shocked brown eyes to hers. “Thea, talk.”
“The man I sent the breadbasket to—Christophe Flaubert—was waiting outside my bakery today when I closed to thank me. He introduced himself. Goodness, he was wearing the most incredible rose-colored velvet suit, and he had a walking cane with a carved leopard on top.”
What the hell was she blubbering about? “Thea, I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Kyle didn’t tell you? Oh, of course not! He wouldn’t want to raise your hopes. Well, I think it’s time to get your hopes raised.”
Okay, now her diaphragm was hard as a rock. “Thea, English, please. Who is this Christophe guy?”
“It’sChristophe Flaubert,and he’s the man behind the scenes. The guy on every major food- and wine-related committee in France. He advises French presidents on the Legion of Honor. Like Dassault. Except he’s nothing like that a-hole. He was nice really.”
Her entire body suddenly felt like it had been pinned down by Thea’s baking beads. “Thea, I’m still having trouble following you.”
“Oh, I’m so flustered.” She pushed some flyaway chestnut hairs back off her forehead. “I wanted to contribute, so I talked to some people.”
By the time she’d filled Madison in on her thinking, Madison wanted to kiss her. “Thea, that’s brilliant. So he showed up at the bakery today and wasnice? That’s something. What happened next?”
“Like I said, he thanked me.” She settled her hand over her heart, her brown eyes shining. “Profusely. He said my bread was the most beautiful ode to the French soul. That he’d never had such an incredible assortment of flavors and textures. I almost fainted right then and there.”
“So would I. It would have at least made me light-headed. Then what?”
She laid her hand on Madison’s shoulder, gripping it with an accompanying grin. “He said he wanted me to know how deeply he appreciated the gift and that I need not fear my breads would go unappreciated. He had shared his impressions with some of his friends, and they were eager to enjoy my creations with the meals they’d been paired with. At a restaurant he’d been hearing about.”
Light-headedness had arrived. “Holy shit!”
“I know!He said he knew it would be challenging given our incredible bookings, but he wondered if we might be able to accommodate him and two other guests tomorrow night.”
This time she gripped Thea’s shoulders. “What did you tell him?”
She sucked in a huge breath. “I told him I would call and find out. But then I couldn’t reach Kyle, and you didn’t answer your phone?—”
“Thea!” She shook her gently. “You told him you’d check? Oh my God! We need to find him a table. I don’t care if I have to have a family of four eat in a corner of the kitchen with their little kids running around, we’ll make room. Please tell me you have his number.”
She gasped. “I forgot to ask.”
“Oh God! Tell me you’re kidding.”
