Chapter 15

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

My future is going exactly the way I planned.

I think…

~ Chloé

CHLOÉ PEEKED AROUND the end of the hall and into the main dining room and tried not to panic over how many people were seated out there ready to experience her dishes—yes, her dishes—for the first time.

Katrina, their hostess for the evening, had come back around ten minutes ago to let her know that everyone had arrived and was accounted for, and what tables certain people were seated at.

Yes, I asked. Of course I did.

There was no way she was going to blindly send out plates with this crowd. She had to make sure that the dishes going out to certain people were absolutely perfect, such as Fiona McKenzie—she was table four, guest three. Then there was Grant Irvine, one of her père’s friends and colleagues. He owned a restaurant on the other side of the city. He was table eight, guest five. Charlene Waters was the top food critic in Chicago and one of the toughest in the nation. She’d been around when her père had first come off Chef Master, and he’d had to work extra hard to get her to take him seriously, so Chloé knew she had her work cut out for her there. Table thirteen, guest six.

Not to mention her most important guests tonight, her family—table one.

So if that meant obsessing over every sprig of thyme and every dollop of sauce decorating the plate, that was what she’d be doing. Nothing was going out to that dining room tonight without her seal of approval, and that started now.

She wiped her hands on her apron, straightened her shoulders, then turned and headed back into her bustling kitchen. The delicious smells coming from the ovens and stovetops made her smile as she stood there for a second and took in the controlled chaos unfolding in front of her.

God, she loved her job.

“Right.” She clapped her hands and waved everyone over to the main pass. Once they’d gathered around, she looked at each and every one of them.

“We have a full house tonight, and expectations so high that no one believes we’ll touch them. But you know what? I’ve been proving people wrong my whole life. They said I was too young to be an executive chef. That I’m not formally trained. That I’m a girl… But you know my fathers—they weren’t going to let me believe that. I was told to reach for the stars, and they’re pretty damn high. So let’s put our heads down and hit this night out of the park.”

Everyone whooped and let out a whistle, and with a laugh Chloé shooed them all away as Todd, one of their waiters, came in with the first ticket, and the starting gun went off.

The next four hours flew by so fast that Chloé barely stopped to breathe. Her menu was an ambitious and intense one that had everyone working overtime to get each order cooked, plated, and ready to go in perfect sync with the other orders at the table.

She was lucky, though—her team was incredibly talented, and as each ticket was filled and sent out, Chloé ticked it off in her brain as one more success story.

When the final ticket of the night came in and everyone got to work on it, she allowed herself a moment to step back and look around at the place she’d spent so much of her childhood. There were so many memories here.

Her père teaching her how to knead dough for pasta when she had to stand on one of the stools to reach the counter, or how to make her very first cheese soufflé. She remembered her dad and papa dancing around the kitchen, as her and Père cooked together for them the first time. She also remembered how proud she’d felt when they both asked for seconds.

Then there was Justin.

She looked over at the back door, her vision blurring a little as she thought about the first time she’d ever seen her brother—

“Order up!”

Kayla’s voice snapped her back to the present, and Chloé blinked, shaking the memories off. She stepped up to the pass and inspected the final plate of the night, and with a nod she handed it off to Todd and sent him on his way.

Everyone in the kitchen fell silent then as Chloé stared at the stainless-steel doors, and as they swung shut behind him, the entire kitchen let out a loud cheer.

They’d done it. They’d pulled off dinner service without one dish being sent back. It was a miracle, and for the first time in over four hours, she breathed.

Chloé started to laugh and hug her staff as she congratulated them all. As she let the enormity of what she’d just done sink in, the doors to the kitchens swung open and her père walked inside.

His smile was so wide it almost slid off his face. He held out his arms.

“Bravo, mon ange. Bravo!”

Chloé ran over to hug and kiss him. The pride and pleasure on his face made her eyes begin to blur.

“Where did you learn to cook so well, huh?”

Chloé grinned up at him, sharing in his joy. “Oh, I don’t know, here and there. But one thing I can tell you: I had an excellent teacher.”

“Oui, you did, and I had an excellent student.” His jade eyes sparkled at her, and Chloé gathered her courage to finally ask him the one thing that had been on her mind all night.

“So… What did you think of the squab?” Yes, she’d ended up going with her first choice as the main star.

“I think it was one of the most exquisite dishes I have tasted in a very long time. It was parfait.”

She smiled so hard her face hurt as he shrugged.

“But then again, so was the beef tartare and the squid with the black truffle and ink.”

She chuckled, already knowing her père would’ve tried a little bit of everything. “The squid ink was for Zayne. Did he try it?”

“He did, actually, and then he ate half of Ethan’s.”

Chloé’s jaw hit the floor at that, then her père took a step back from her, his expression turning serious.

“Don’t you want to know how certain other people reacted?”

She knew what he meant. That he’d been watching the foodies close enough to know whether or not they were impressed, and while she could ask him, she decided she’d rather not know—at least not tonight.

Tonight, she felt amazing, like she’d climbed the tallest mountain around and stuck her flag at the very top, and she wasn’t going to let anyone bring her down.

“Nope. I don’t want to know anything other than my family enjoyed themselves and I made you all proud.”

“Well, then, bichette, you can rest easy.” Père squeezed her hands. “In fact, before you run off with your men for a well-deserved night of celebration, your dad and papa would like you to come up to the skybox and have a glass of champagne with us.”

“I’d love that.”

“Bien. Justin is taking care of Ethan and Zayne, and I told the rest of the family we wouldn’t be long.”

“Oh, okay. Let me get rid of my apron and wash up really quick.”

“Of course. Take your time.” With a final kiss to her cheek, he headed out the doors.

Chloé bade farewell to her team, who were now signing out and leaving the rest of the cleanup to the crew who’d come in after them.

She hurried into the locker room and got rid of her apron and shirt then pulled on a clean one and tied up her hair. A few sprays of her favorite perfume and she was a little more put together than she had been minutes ago. She made her way to the elevator that would take her up to the skybox.

She could still hear loud chatter and laughter coming from the dining room as their guests finished off their dessert, and as she stepped inside and the elevator began its ascent, Chloé found she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

Tonight had been incredible, a night she would never forget.

As the doors to her father’s private dining area opened and she stepped inside, the looks of love and respect plastered all over their faces told her they’d never forget it either.

“My beautiful baby girl,” Dad said. He took her face between his hands and kissed both cheeks. “You were magnificent tonight. An absolute star. I’ve never been prouder in all my life.”

Papa smirked as he came forward. “I don’t know about that, princesse—there’s a whole lot of pride in you. But I will echo his sentiment. It was wonderful to see your talent on full display tonight, Chloé. I find myself in absolute awe of you.”

She swallowed around the lump of emotion she was feeling and tried to hold back the tears of happiness.

“That means so much to me. All I’ve ever wanted is to make you all proud.”

“We know,” Papa said. “And even if you’d burnt every single meal you brought out tonight, we still would’ve been proud of you.”

She nodded as they all hugged her again, and then Papa walked her over to the wall of windows that overlooked the main dining room and bar area below.

“Once upon a time,” he said as he looked down to the bar where Ethan and Zayne sat laughing with Justin, “I stood up here and watched my future unfold before my very eyes.”

He looked over her head to where her dad and père stood.

“I saw the two men I wanted in my life and the possibility of what that life could be. I saw my future.”

Chloé could hear the love and affection in her papa’s voice, and she looked over to see the two of them smiling back.

“Which brings us now to you, and your future.”

Huh? What about my future?“I… I don’t understand. Things are going great with Ethan and Zayne.”

“We know. That’s not what we mean.” Priest nodded at the guests finishing off their drinks and desserts. “What do you see when you look down there?”

Chloé’s brows knitted together, and her heart beat a little faster. She’d thought the menu and cooking for her peers had been the test she needed to pass tonight.

But what if that wasn’t the case at all? What if the true test was what was happening here and now? What if what they were really trying to decide was whether she still wanted this? Whether or not she still wanted to run JULIEN for them one day?

“I see my father’s restaurant. A place I love and enjoy working at every time I set foot inside it. I see happy guests that make me want to do this all over again tomorrow night.”

She paused and looked to the bar, where Justin had disappeared and Ethan was now leaning in to kiss Zayne’s cheek.

“And down there, I see the two men I want to go home to and share that with each night. Like you,” she said, looking back to her papa. “I see my future.”

Papa nodded, then his gaze shifted over her shoulder to her dad and père, and he said, “What if you could have a different future?”

“I…” She turned her back on the scene below as all three of them stepped in front of her. “I’m confused. A different future? I love my life. I love who’s in it and what I do. I thought you were happy with my performance tonight.”

“Oh, we are.” Her dad grinned.

“Then I—”

“We want you to run JULIEN.”

Chloé’s eyes widened. “Now?”

“Oui,” Père said, and immediately her brain thought up the worst possible scenario. Was something wrong with him? Because nothing else was making any sense, until he added, “In Paris.”

And then she figured she was dreaming. She must’ve passed out hard after cooking all night.

“Chloé?”

She stood there in stunned silence as they all stared at her, waiting for something—probably for her to start screaming with excitement. But she was still stuck on… “You’re sending me to…Paris?”

Papa smirked. “Well, only if you want to go.”

“To Paris?”

“Oh dear. I think we might’ve shocked her.” Dad rushed over to the table where a bottle of champagne was chilling on ice. He poured a glass and thrust it into her hand, and Chloé didn’t care who saw—she chugged that shit down.

“We thought this would be a great opportunity for you to expand your craft.” Père touched her hand gently, as though soothing a stunned animal. “You could learn from some of the culinary greats. Travel through Europe and taste all the wonderful food. Every chef should experience that. Plus, you’re so close to Italy and Germany, and we just wanted to give you a chance to explore.”

“We don’t want you to think that this, Chicago, is your only option,” Papa said. “That you don’t have choices.”

“But Paris? What are you trying to do, get rid of me?” Kidding… Kind of.

“No.” Dad laughed, but was quick to add, “This isn’t an either/or decision. If you go and decide you hate it, you can come straight back home.”

“But we all know how much you love Paris.” Père reached out and drew the back of his fingers down her cheek. “This is a big decision. One you’ll need to discuss with your men. But think about it, and let us know. JULIEN, Paris, would be lucky to have you, bichette.”

Chloé wanted to say something, but she was so blown away by what they’d just offered, she was speechless.

Instead, she turned back to look down at the bar, and this time Ethan and Zayne were looking up at her, smiles on their handsome faces.

Her future looked exactly the way she wanted it to. Loving partners, a wonderful job, a family she couldn’t imagine being away from longer than a few weeks a time, and it was all right here in front of her.

But now all she could hear in her head was her papa’s question: What if you could have a different future?