“Good.” He could already imagine wrapping Madison up in his arms. “I’m so happy, I don’t know what to say. But I want to get over to Nanine’s—even if Mad throws us out.”
“I love hearing you call her that.” When he came around the desk, Brooke threw her arms around him. He hugged her tightly.
“I love seeing you two together,” she continued. “And I’ll never be happier to get herget lost I’m cookinglook. Oh, Kyle! Remember when we were worried about whether Nanine’s would ever reopen? Look at us now!”
He could hear the tears in her voice. “Yeah. Glad we’ve kicked those dark days to the curb. God, I need to call our contractor. We’re going to have to move faster on the private rooms upstairs. Because you’re right. We can’t turn down a crown prince, can we?”
“Axel says we can set up some screens and freestanding lighting and furnishings upstairs to make the space usable sooner while the contractors deal with the more complicated installation.”
Way to go, Axel. “Great idea.”
“He also mentioned that we can’t turn a prince down without making an international incident. He told me a story about one that happened in Monaco, and we so do not want that drama.”
He rubbed the area between his brows. “Right. Royals come with big drama.”
“So do A-listers.” She took a couple deep breaths. “I’ll run point with you until we hire a publicist. We also might need a concierge type. I’ll have to ask some of my own A-lister contacts how this kind of thing is handled. Who they call. How the reservation is made. They don’t go online and fill out a form with their phone number.”
This situation went beyond all his former experience as a restaurateur, and like he’d reminded Madison, he’d owned fourteen successful restaurants. “I can make some calls as well for best practices. Now let’s go.”
A harried Sawyer was coming in with a poleaxed Thea as they were leaving the house. “What do you need us to do?” Sawyer asked. “Dean texted us the news. He says the restaurant is getting a beating on the reservation side. He’s trying to keep the system from going down because of the number of hits.”
Kyle hugged both of them before taking them by the shoulders. “Everyone take a breath. This review is exactly what we were hoping for. Thea, your breads?—”
“I know!” She started half crying as a heartbreaking smile stretched across her face. “Jean Luc said the same thing. But it’s so much to take in. Dean said my online bread selection has sold out for six months now. It’s only about a third of what we’ll make every day, but I can hardly believe it. My bakery hasn’t even opened yet.”
“We’re going to figure it out. But this is fucking awesome, guys! We celebrate this hard. Let’s go to the restaurant.”
“Are you sure?” Sawyer grimaced. “Madison hates interruptions during prep. That’s why we came here.”
He laughed heartily. “Let her kick us out.”
When he came through the back door of the restaurant, he was glad he’d followed his instincts. Nanine’s chandelier gave a nonchalant jingle, clearly taking its lead from her chef. While the staff continued their work, he noted a few people stole glances their way.
Madison gave their arrival party a cutting glance, but her golden eyes were sparkling. “You too?I hope you’re here to tell me that you’re taking care of the circus out there because we have dinner service to prep for and tonight’s dinner to execute.”
The hard edge of her voice had him grinning. “I thought you’d appreciate knowing we’re taking care of everything.”
Their other friends nodded as well.
“See that you do!” Madison crossed her arms over her black apron, a dark goddess of no nonsense who made his heart drum faster in his chest. “We’ve had to unplug the phone. Some very aggressive diners were being rude to my staff about reservations, and I won’t have that.”
Her protective mode didn’t surprise him. He realized he would need to protect her a little, too, from this avalanche of interest. “So that means you probably don’t want to fly to New York and go on one of the morning shows. With your famous culinary parrot sidekick.”
Her eyes widened briefly before she gave an audible huff. “I’m a chef, not a culinary poodle. Same goes for Pierre.”
Quiet chuckles erupted from her staff as they continued prep. He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.
He wished he could kiss her.
He wished they could take a break and eat ice cream off each other’s bodies.
He wished he could mouthI love youand tell her how happy he was for her.
Letting the silence gather, he made sure she read his mind before he said professionally, “Noted. We’ll leave you, then.”
She flicked a hand in the air. “Good. Because people are going to be coming tonight thinking they’ve died on a Friday and gone to heaven to eat, thanks to that review. Their expectations are going to be impossible to meet.”
They shared a final quiet look, their friends beaming around them.
Then she gave a slight smile, making this moment one of the best of his life.
