She said it half as a joke, eye roll included, but it occurred to her that there was something nice about a holiday celebrating love.
She remembered those stupid little Valentine’s Day candies that said things like Be Mine or XOXO. No one had given her those in school. She supposed she would have knocked a guy’s head off if he’d tried.
But now?
Valentine’s Day seemed kind of wonderful, because of Kyle.
Who knew?
Later at the restaurant, Madison and her staff put their heads down and did their job. Only this time she imagined they were doing a service to lovebirds everywhere, making the holiday even more special with their food.
At the end of the night, the clock seemed to tick slower than it ever had in her life. She couldn’t blame it solely on the holiday vibe. Normally, she wasn’t aware of outside time, only cooking time. The three minutes she’d pan roast her duck or the two minutes it took her to prep a dish from sauté pan to plate.
Her professional life was defined by minutes.
Her personal life never had been.
It was unnerving to care this much about getting home to Kyle. Okay, and Spike too.
And then Rico walked into the kitchen when she was cleaning the stove. His usual confident smile was absent, although he was dressed to the nines as usual. In fact, he looked positively jangly, like he needed a cigarette.
Nerves? Rico? That wasn’t like him at all.
Her first reflex was to squeeze the sponge, dribbling water on the floor.
He’d come by once after she’d broken the news about Kyle so they could celebrate their mentor coming to Paris to open a restaurant at last. It had felt like old times, with none of the awkward flirting stuff. They’d had a drink, and he gave her some chef gossip, stuff she’d have heard if she got out more and met other chefs here.
But it felt really weird for him to show up tonight.
Her staff gave him respectful nods as they continued cleaning around her.
“Hey, Rico,” she called in Spanish. “I thought you’d be knee-deep in lovebirds at your place.”
His frown was massive and portended trouble. “I was, but I decided to stop by. Can we talk?”
Her stomach dropped. “Sure. Why don’t you grab yourself a drink? We’re closing up.”
Nodding, he found a snifter and poured himself a cognac. She gave Pierre an almond, watching as Rico pulled out his phone, tapping his foot agitatedly.
The mood in the kitchen had shifted. Everyone seemed to know something was off. The staff started heading out quickly after Claude came from the front to tell her they were locking up. All the guests had departed. She wished him a good weekend, then she turned to Rico.
He set down his snifter and put his phone away, facing her. “I’ve gone back and forth about coming here a million times, but I can’t live with myself if I don’t.”
Oh no! He wasn’t going to make a Valentine’s Day declaration, was he? “Rico, we talked about this?—”
“No, hear me out, Madison.” He stalked forward, his hands fisting at his sides. “We’ve known each other a long time, and I cannot betray what we feel for each other, personally and professionally.”
Here we go. “Rico, really this isn’t?—”
“I thought you’d want to know.” He stopped inches away from her, his dark eyes narrowed and searching. “I know I would.”
Oh jeez! Was he going to plant one on her? She took a step back. “Now, hang on, I told you?—”
“There’s no easy way to say this.”
She held up her hand, ready to knock him back if he came any closer. “Then don’t. Really.”
“I have to.”His voice crackled with emotion. “Madison… You are not going to win a star.”
