CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
For the last two weeks, he and Madison had holed up in their Romance Shrine when they weren’t working their asses off.
He sat in his study sipping a glass of red wine, a truly excellent vintage Jacqueline was considering for the launch of Pairings by Pierre, which was opening on St. Patrick’s Day. Breathing out a satisfied sigh, he picked up his favorite Mont Blanc pen and signed the contract for the new restaurant with Chef Marcel.
He would celebrate this milestone with Madison when she came home, which he estimated was in about forty-five minutes given it was a Saturday night closing.
Damn but it felt good to be expanding his empire here in Paris—under the company he’d created with his Paris roommates. Sure, this baby was more his than anyone else’s, but everyone had already volunteered to help in any way they could. Brooke and Axel were especially interested in helping on the decorating and design side.
He had resources here in Paris now, and he was gaining influence as a restaurateur to know. People wanted to work with him, and even though his mind was reaching for future opportunities, he knew to focus on what they needed now.
Nanine’s topped the list for him.
The work had been grueling, from dealing with the restaurant’s increased fame, extended construction hours, and Nanine’s move, but the proposed renovation of the restaurant—his biggest task—was progressing well. Brooke and Axel had both contributed some invaluable ideas, being especially creative with Nanine’s top-floor addition.
The coveted outdoor garden space would be a showstopper with eye-catching exterior lights, plants, and water features. Outdoor seating would be a prime draw, and a clever glass ceiling and walled space would allow for year-round use.
Then there was the exterior elevator Axel had proposed. The man knew his engineering too.
Jean Luc was rushing the appropriate permits. Their A-list reservations had helped there, along with some highly placed contacts in the French government.
With the additional three floors being added to Nanine’s, they would be able to host private groups at a premium price, which would please the A-listers and their desire for privacy while also giving Madison and the staff a chance to prearrange an exclusive set menu from the current offerings. She’d signed off on the plans and agreed on their proposed new hires for both the front and the back of the house to handle the expanded space.
Private rooms with limited seating would keep them from expanding too rapidly—a sure way to mess up things like consistency and excellence. The strategy also wouldn’t overload the kitchen, whose current space he and Madison felt could handle the expanded seating.
Knowing the plans were progressing at Nanine’s, he was already looking forward to a new challenge in creating yet another award-winning restaurant here in Paris. Once Chef Marcel, as he was now calling him, countersigned the papers,they would put in a bid on the property he’d been eyeing in the FirstArrondissementnear the Louvre.
Sipping his wine, he reached for his phone to review the photos he’d taken of the neighborhood where he’d gone by yesterday. His hand tightened on the crystal stem when he caught sight of a new text from his mother.
Congratulations on the restaurant. All our friends are talking about you! Dad and I thought we’d come over to see what all the fuss was about. Our good friends Tina and Tripp are game, and so is Ivey. You remember her? She was that sweet little girl who used to give you the Easter eggs straight out of her basket. Her parents thought a late graduation present to Paris would be perfect. You two would have a chance to reconnect. She’s absolutely lovely, Kyle. We’ll see you in a few weeks.
He set his wine and phone aside and planted his hands on his desk, taking deep breaths to offset his anger. She expected him to find her a table for five people on short notice, and she wanted to set him up with a girl fresh out of college?
Like hell.
He remembered Ivey. When she was a cute little five-year-old, she’d followed a teenaged Kyle around in her yellow-and-white polka dot Easter dress, giving him her colored eggs. Totally embarrassing, but he’d been sweet to her because she was a little kid.
He started to type and tell his mother reservations were completely out of the question, despite knowing her reply would be a sugary kiss-off likeYou’ll figure something out, honey.
Then he paused. Texting in anger was stupid. He knew better. He deleted his message and sat back.
After cooling down, he was ready to examine the issue from all angles. How serious were his parents about a potentialtrip really? The only country they’d ever visited had been Mexico—Cancun specifically, on their honeymoon. They’d never gone anywhere else, and they’d always talked down on France, rehashing tired stories about the French being rude.
When he’d told them he was returning to France, they’d doubled down on what a terrible place it was, according to their friends.
Cooler-headed, he shook his head. His parents were likely only talking a good game to their friends, boasting about his success because it made them look better. Nothing new there. They’d been doing that his whole life.
If they actually came, he’d control it, starting by setting up an itinerary for them that didn’t include a reservation at Nanine’s. He could get them into other coveted places that’d appease their vanity.
Ifthey actually came—and he doubted they would.
Right now, it was better not to reply. Yeah. He liked that course of action better. You didn’t wave a red cloth in a bull’s face unless you wanted trouble. He didn’t.
Maybe a banal thumbs-up emoji response would be especially off-putting.
Finished, he rubbed the spot between his brows before turning to the tension at the back of his neck. His parents were the only two people in the world who made him feel powerless, and he hated them for it as much as himself.
