CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Madison was late.
Spike was sleeping in his lap, snuffling like puppies did. Normally he’d find it adorable, but he kept checking his watch. She knew 12:01 a.m. was the start of their time.
Where was she?
The puppy twitched in his arms, his brown eyes popping open. He was off Kyle’s lap the moment the front door opened. Kyle followed. Madison’s face looked haggard as she sent him a strained smile before petting an excited Spike pawing at her feet.
“Sorry. I got caught up. Let me put Pierre to bed.”
“I’ll take him if you’d like,” he said, kissing her softly even though all he wanted to do was pull her to his chest and soothe them both.
“Thanks.” She held out the cage before bending down and letting Spike pepper her face with kisses. “Yeah, I know you missed me.”
When he returned, she was hugging the dog to her chest with her eyes closed. Sadness colored her face despite the pure show of love. He was going to change that look. He had to.Thiswas not their life together.
He wrapped his arms around her and the puppy, holding them in the silence as more love than he’d ever known he was capable of filled his heart. God, she’d been spot-on about Operation Kyle. He hadn’t even known what he was missing; she’d known.
Now he needed to do his part for Operation Madison. Her goal had been a Michelin star. He had to find a way to get it for her.
“I have great news,” he began, drawing out the sentence.
“Yours would be the first I’ve heard today,” she muttered.
As he’d thought. “Would you be happy to hear that three of your favorite Latin singers are coming to Nanine’s next week when our upstairs VIP suites open?”
She drew back, her eyes wide with anything but sadness now. “You’re kidding!”
“Nope.”
He’d decided she needed someone she admired to be one of their VIP guests. She needed something to charge her fire up. So he’d reached out to their agents and asked if they wanted the most coveted restaurant reservation in the world. He didn’t care that Rico and Chef Marcel were downers about him changing Dassault’s influence. There were so enmeshed in the system they couldn’t see a way out of the maze. He planned to. Even if that meant hacking his way out with Madison’s cleaver.
When he named the singers, her mouth transformed into a grin. She shook him, making Spike start wildly barking. “You’re absolutely incredible! Did you know that?”
“Thank you.” He kissed her softly. “That put some color in your face. Brooke is working a few more angles. Phoebe has the Big Apple’s top food critic coming.”
“What?”
“Dean spilled the beans, but the result is positive. We’re talking Thomas Malba.”
“Big fish.” She blew out a heavy breath. “And I thought William Silver was my critic for the century.”
“I’ve also finally hired a first-rate publicist as of todayandmade a competitive offer to a new social media manager for PRG. You might kill me for having him film you and your staff in the kitchen and the front of the house, but he’s going to tell the public a great story about Nanine’s.”
“Good thing I have my new hairdo,” she said with an eye roll.
“We’re also going to have a celebrity guestbook online. Mad, we are going to be so in-your-face, the Michelin people won’t be able to hold their heads up if they don’t show up at Nanine’s and give us a star.”
She traced the hard line of his jaw. “And if it doesn’t work? Kyle, you can’t shame these people. Today I realized they’re not so different than gang leaders back in my old neighborhood.”
Rico had mostly said the same, but he wasn’t giving up. “You let me take care of that.” He kissed her softly. “Now, how about some ice cream and you and me time? Or do you want to go dancing for a little while?”
“Our Dirty Dancing Club might be too much for me tonight.” She patted Spike on the head, biting her lip. “Kyle…”
He knew that tone. “What?”
