She didn’t want to have to choose!
She looked at Brooke, who was slowly stirring sugar into her café. Sawyer was seated at the head of the table, looking between them as if they were opposing players in a tennis match.
“If Nanine knows,” Brooke began, “and you know Nanine knows, that means you two have talked.”
“You been watching Sherlock Holmes with Axel?”
Sawyer was bobbing his head like a turtle now. “Which means Nanine has told you how she’d like you to deal with the situation.”
“My guess is she gave you her blessing to follow your dream somewhere other than Nanine’s,” Brooke continued, clinking her spoon against the inside of her cup before setting it aside.
Madison hadn’t opened her sugar yet, but she hastily picked up her spoon, knowing she’d blanched like a head of broccoli.
“Kyle doesn’t know!” Sawyer breathed, sitting back and running a hand through his curly black hair. “Oh God! No wonder you lost it.”
“Exactly,” she managed over her achy throat. If she didn’t know better, she would swear she had the flu coming on.
Silence descended, as hard to ignore as the smell of bad fish. Sawyer tore open his sugar, scattering crystals across the table. Brooke made no move to help him clean it up with his handkerchief. Neither did Madison.
“I don’t envy your situation,” Brooke said with complete neutrality. “What are you going to do?”
“No podcast advice?” She ripped open her sugar for the sheer pleasure of tearing something apart. “Nowhat does your heart tell youbullshit? Because my heart has taken so many hits, I don’t even feel it.”
Except she did when she was with Kyle, especially when she was in his arms. Or with Spike, when he gave her those silly puppy kisses. Or cooking with Pierre by her side.
Sawyer laced his hands together in his lap and simply sat there, like he was listening even when nothing was being said.
“What?” she pressed. “No famous quotes from philosophy to illuminate my situation? Come on, Doc. Do your thing.”
God, were those tears in his eyes? “The only thing that comes to mind is that my life is better because you are in it. I’ll be sad if you leave, but I understand you wanting to follow your dream. If I couldn’t become the painter I wanted to be here, I don’t know what I would have done. It’s a horrible choice you’re facing.”
“No one is talking about Madison leaving Paris,” Brooke spat out with one of her dragon breaths.
Madison busied herself with dumping her sugar into the cup.
Brooke reached across and grabbed her wrist. “God! You already have an offer.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve had a few since theLe Mondereview that put Doc on the map, but word has gotten around about us not getting a star. A really big chef got in touch with Rico. He wants to talk.”
Brooke swallowed thickly. “Who is it? Where is it?”
Speaking the words made it feel real. “Chef Joan Manuel Fort, and it’s for his restaurant in Barcelona.”
Her face went blank along with Sawyer’s. “Oh my! That’s… He’s got a ton of Michelin stars at his restaurants around the world. I’ve been to a few myself. Major player.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, wanting to hurl her stirring spoon against the wall.
“Barcelona isn’t that far from Paris,” Sawyer squeaked out before coughing loudly. “Oh… But Kyle is the head of The Paris Roommates Group. Paris?—”
“Yeah, that about sums it up.” Madison pounded his back. “You guys are bound here too.”
“But we aren’t your soulmate, your life partner, your…” Sawyer wisely trailed off before she blew a gasket.
“No, but you’re my family.” She gripped the cup handle.
“Long distance would be hard with your job,” Brooke added, their eyes meeting head-on.
She’d already checked the distance when Kyle was still out with Spike. Five hundred and sixteen miles. Nearly seven hours by train. A couple of hours by airplane. Regardless… A large part of the day would need to be spent traveling—and she’d be lucky to have one day off a week starting at a new place. BecauseLos Cuatros Elementosalso served lunch.
