Her insides liquified like the ice cream always did on his beautiful abs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Once they reached the living area, everyone turned around. She figured the smiles were a good sign. Thea got up, clearly coming in for an exuberant hug. “You did your recipe! Oh, Madison, I’m so glad! You look so happy.”
She hugged Thea back. She was past her yearly quota of hugs anyway. What was one more? “What’s not to be happy about?”
Jean Luc leaned in and greeted her with the usual two kisses.
“You two were gone when the big thing happened,”Madison told them. “I nailed our first special at Nanine’s, and do you know who showed up that night? William Silver.”
Thea’s ear-piercing squeal had Madison wincing. “William Silver! Oh my God! Is he writing a review?”
“He is, and from what he told me table-side, it should really rock.”
Nanine came forward and hugged her warmly, kissing her on both cheeks, followed by Carl. “William does not mince words. Madison, I was so happy you called and left me a message about his visit. I have only met William once, years ago, when Nanine’s first developed a good following.”
Meaning Nanine’s had garnered enough praise for the famous food critic to want to sample a meal. She wondered if his long-ago visit had coincided with the early buzz that Nanine’s might be a place worthy of a Michelin star. Before Chef Auguste Dassault had found a way to stop the committee from awarding it.
Surely history wasn’t repeating itself.
The worry prickled at her as she asked about Nanine and Carl’s trip to Burgundy. She listened with a half an ear as they described the special bottles of wine they’d discovered on their trip, bottles which would be added to Nanine’s new cave, but her diaphragm was tied up in knots. God, it was going to be hard to wait for the Michelin announcement mid-March…
She needed to focus on the now. Cook. Build momentum. Celebrate wins. Do it all over again. She could not afford to worry about the past.
“Once William’s review goes public, Nanine’s is going to be in even greater demand than it already is,” Brooke noted as she grabbed a bottle of champagne from an ice-filled bin containing other bottles. “We need to celebrate.”
“Not yet.” Madison lifted a warning hand. “Most chefs are superstitious. Let’s wait until the review is out. The proof is inthe pudding. Hey, Sawyer! Do you know why people say that?”
He pushed up his gold spectacles. “I believe the phrase used to bethe proof of the pudding is in the eating.From the early sixteen hundreds. It was likely shortened for length. Back then, a pudding was a sausage—originating from Scotland a few centuries beforehand.”
“Aha!” She snapped her fingers. “I get it. You had to make sure you wouldn’t get sick—because of botulism.”
“Likely,” Sawyer replied with professor-like seriousness. “Although entomology can be tricky.”
“So can sausage making,” Madison quipped.
“I find it quite easy actually, once you have the right ingredients for your favorite sausage,” Phoebe joked as she sauntered forward, wearing a fabulous tight-fitting red dress Madison liked, along with red tights and red boots, the latter of which seemed like a lot to buy and then color match.
Thinking of Kyle, she sniggered. “No arguments from me there.”
“So do we fist-bump or do the Parisian kiss routine?” Phoebe asked with her hands out.
Madison extended her fist. “I appreciate someone not wanting a holiday hug.”
“I know! It’s like a hug outbreak,” Phoebe said with a laugh as she executed the greeting. “You look good. Glad the New Year started off well for you.”
The subtext was obvious as Phoebe sent a none-too-discreet look toward Kyle.
“With a bang,” Madison said, because she could fire back subtext with the best of them. “You guys?”
Sawyer finally stepped forward after half man-hugging Kyle. “We’re as happy as the happiest of larks.”
“Oh, Horatio!” Phoebe pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Not larks. Their song was the sign that told Juliet she and Romeo had to separate.”
“My rose, you’re so right.” Doc removed her hands and kissed her sweetly on the lips. “I withdraw my lark comment.”
Madison shook her head as the termlovebirdsfinally made sense. Man, love made people weird. Look at these two. God knew what she and Kyle looked like. “You guys really have your own love language, don’t you? But don’t all couples?”
Kyle snorted. “Speaking of which, anyone want to bet how late Dean and Jacqueline are going to be?”
