“One wonders if Nanine knew Gustave would make such a move,” Sawyer mused, taking off his spectacles and cleaning them.
Silence permeated the room.
Dean started to smile. God, that would be just like Nanine. Could she have known Dassault would back down? Regardless, she was brilliant and would always be the smartest, classiest woman in the world—and he was standing amidst some of the most awesome women around.
“Well, I, for one, don’t really care what happened.” Madison looked around the room with her usually scary flat glare. “We don’t even know if we’re going to win. Being considered is the first step, and I’ll admit it’s a leg up from where we were. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Practical Madison to the end. Just once, he’d love to see her blubber with happiness. “Does that mean wearen’tpopping the champagne? Because I have a little brunch gift I want you two lovebirds to open.”
“Dean, no one in Paris does brunch,” Brooke said with one of her beloved dragon breaths.
“You are Americans,” Axel replied sardonically. “I do not see a problem.”
“This from a man who’s from a culture where people only drink coffee for breakfast except on rare occasions,” Brooke said with a laugh.
“We have lunch at eleven in the morning usually,” Axeladded. “Now, are we popping the champagne first or having Kyle and Madison open their gifts first?”
“Pop the champagne,” Dean decided. “My gifts will go perfectly with the toast.”
Madison gave an audible groan as Kyle kissed the top of her head. “How bad can it be? You liked the stuffed cleaver he gave you.”
“You did?” Dean clutched his chest. “You never said.”
She flipped him the bird, causing their friends to laugh. After that, a trio of champagne corks popped in the kitchen, making Spike bark and Pierre ruffle his wings. When everyone had their flute, he walked over to the happy couple and extended the gift bag.
“You can open it together since it’s for you both,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at Madison’s puckered expression.
Kyle took the bag. Madison waited for him to look inside. When he did, Dean heard his friend’s muffled chuckle. “You might want to make a run for it, Dean, if this is what I think it is.”
Madison gave a full body wince. “It’s something sappy, isn’t it? I told you last night I’ve totally become a big ball of mush,” she told Kyle. “Everyone knows it!”
“What is it?” Thea gestured excitedly.
Kyle unfurled two T-shirts wrapped in a red ribbon.
Dean patted Spike affectionately when he tried to leap out of his arms toward the event.
“Madison’s is the black one,” he told them. “Now, on the count of three, undo the ribbon and hold them up for everyone to see. One, two, three.”
Nudging Madison, Kyle unveiled the word SOUL on his white T-shirt.
Madison groaned like someone with the flu. “Oh, no! You didn’t.”
Kyle took over, and soon Madison’s T-shirt was proudly displayed. The word MATE was smack-dab in the center, and Dean patted himself on the shoulder again at his brilliance because even Brooke was biting her lip to keep from laughing.
“I figured you two could wear them at home like the happy couple you are now.” He set Spike down, watching as the puppy sprinted across the room toward them. “I couldn’t figure out what to do for Spike yet. BABY MAKES THREE seemed a little off to me.”
Madison’s gaze hardened, that scary glint entering her eyes. “Dean, you do that, you’re a dead man.”
His world was complete. The Paris Roommates were back and better than ever. God, that Shakespeare dude really had it right.
All’s well that ends well.
