Page 92 of The Chef

“Sure.”

“Don’t worry,” Cleo coos, patting me on the cheek. “Don’t fret. I’ll keep you as co-owner, but that means you won’t have to be here often. Actually, that means you won’t have to be here at all, we’ll hire someone to take care of this place, a professional restauranteur from Sydney or Melbourne perhaps? I can afford them. That means you can spend more time with me.”

“Is that your deal?”

Cleo chuckles. “Oh, yes. That’s my deal.”

“Anything else to it?” I ask.

There’s always more with Cleo.

“Of course, we’ll have to get married, and soon. My first Vindicator movie comes out next year, and I’ll have to have the ring on my finger well before then.”

Ah, I knew she’ll talk about a wedding sooner or later.

But this is exactly what I wanted in the Paris hotel room, exactly what I wanted when I went on my knees in front of her in that luxury suite.

Why would I be afraid of her talking about it now?

But it’s like our marriage is part of this deal to take Rockpool off my hands, it’s like I’m being used.

“Married?” I ask.

Cleo smiles. “I was thinking somewhere back home for the celebration. New York? Or maybe Los Angeles. We’ll invite a lot of other famous people, and you can get your family to bring in all their big business pals. I’m sure you have a lot of connections in the States that would kill for an invite to this wedding.”

I don’t know how to reply. My mind’s a mess.

“Right.”

“And, naturally, we’ll hold it somewhere glamorous, somewhere perfect for Instagram,” she says.

What?

“Instagram?” I blubber out.

“Of course,” Cleo sighs like I’ve said something stupid. Like she’s talking to a child. “We’ve got to have the press on board for our little ceremony. Well, it’s not exactly a little ceremony, I’m actually planning something quite big, aren’t I?” She giggles at her own comment, but I’m not really listening anymore.

Instagram? The press? Celebrities?

This isn’t what I’ve wanted. But, seeing the greedy glint in Cleo’s eye, I know it’s what she wants.

She wants something completely different from me.

When she speaks about New York and extravagant parties I’m reminded of something - someone - very different.

Bay Dover.

I’m reminded of the last few days together, and all we’ve done together. Us two being a little team. The little life we’ve shared in the last few days and what we could see in the future together. Running a new Rockpool in this sleepy small town. Surfing. Living the simple, quiet, and rewarding life.

That’s what I really want.

Not international weddings and social media and Paris suites and diamonds.

Just Bay Dover and I working hard, together.

That’s what I truly want.

I bore my soul to Bay, and she didn’t laugh at me as Cleo had done back in Paris. She didn’t laugh at my exposed emotions or my sincerity, in fact, she embraced me for it. She made me a better man in all the time I’ve spent with her.