Epilogue

EPILOGUE

One Month Later

Paris

“RED?” ZAYNE’S VOICE echoed up the large staircase and into the bedroom where she stood in front of the full-length mirror. “You almost ready up there?”

Yes, I think I am.

Chloé gave herself a final once-over and then headed for the stairs. Tonight was the night, her first evening as executive chef of JULIEN Paris, and she was equal parts excited and nervous.

No, that wasn’t right—she was definitely more excited. This was what she was born to do, what she’d been training her whole life for—and her fathers entrusting her with the French side of the family business meant more to her than they would ever know. She just wished they’d been able to take the time off to come to opening night.

For the last month she’d been planning and prepping this menu, teaching the staff the new meals and the plating of them. So when Zayne asked if she was ready, she felt confident in her answer that yes, she really was.

As she came down the flight of stairs to the ground floor of their apartment, it was to see both Ethan and Zayne waiting at the bottom, and the sight of them dressed to the nines in tailored tuxedos had her close to tripping over her feet. The two of them were absolutely devastating.

“Look at you.” Zayne gave her a thorough once-over. “So fancy in your chef getup. The jacket, the pants, the little black buttons.”

She chuckled and looked down at herself, smoothing her hand over her pressed black jacket. “I don’t know, compared to you two, I suddenly feel underdressed.”

“Are you kidding? You look so…” Zayne searched for the right word.

“Professional,” Ethan said as he stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “You look like a beautiful, professional, world-class chef, which is exactly what you are.”

She smiled and reached up to smooth a hand over her braid. “Thank you, both of you. That’s the highest compliment.”

Ethan turned and looked out the front door. “The driver just pulled up, so whenever you’re ready.”

“The driver?” Chloé frowned. “We could’ve walked—it’s just a couple of blocks.”

“We know.” Zayne hooked an arm through hers as Ethan opened the door, and when she spotted a limo, her feet faltered. “We just thought you should arrive in style this evening.”

“Seriously?” She laughed and shook her head, loving their over-the-top ways. “A limo? Really?”

“Well…” Ethan shut the door behind them and took her other hand. “You aren’t due at the restaurant for another twenty minutes, so we thought we’d do a little Paris-by-night drive.”

She stopped and turned to face him, about to protest, when Ethan put a finger to her lips.

“No arguments. You’ve been preparing for this night for the last few weeks. You spent all day in the kitchen today. You can take twenty minutes to relax, have a glass of champagne, and take in the city you are about to win over.”

Her lips twitched as she stopped by the car door. “Is that an order?”

“It is.”

“In that case, yes, sir.”

Ethan’s eyes creased at the sides, and a smirk played at his lips. Then he opened the door for her and she climbed in. After Zayne and Ethan got in, she giggled and put a hand on both their thighs.

“This is nice. I like being in between my men.”

“And we like having you there.” Zayne interlaced their fingers and leaned in to press a kiss to her temple. “We weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to make your big night special.”

“Hmm, well, who’s going to complain about that?” She aimed a flirty wink his way. “Certainly not me.”

Ethan signaled to their driver they were ready to go, and as the car pulled out from the curb, he reached for the bottle of Dom that had been chilling.

Chloé’s smile widened. “Wow, you really are spoiling me. It’s not like I’m opening a brand-new restaurant.”

“You might as well have.” Ethan handed her and Zayne glasses. “Don’t underplay what you’ve accomplished over the last few months. Not only did you win over the Chicago scene, you’ve reimagined an entirely new menu for tonight, moved countries, taken on a new job—”

“And you taught me how to speak French.”

“‘Speak’ being a polite way to describe his pronunciation of things.”

“Hey, I try, and that’s what counts.” Zayne winked at her, and she had to laugh. His pronunciation really did have a long way to go. But like he said, he was trying.

Ethan shook his head. “That alone deserves celebrating.”

Chloé grinned at the pair of them, thinking that if anything needed celebrating, it was her amazing luck in finding the two of them. For so long she’d been looking for direction in life while searching for a place that felt like hers, and this right here—between the two of them—was it.

They not only gave her the freedom to go out and be who she was, but they also proudly stood beside her as she shined.

Their love story had been a complete and utter whirlwind. Her life had changed in so many ways. But through it all, Ethan and Zayne had been there holding her up. They’d seen her at her best, and at her worst, and loved her through all of it—and now here they were, about to embark on the next chapter of their story.

She sipped at her champagne and leaned her head on Zayne’s shoulder, and when Ethan brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, she smiled at him.

“You look very content.”

“You told me to relax.”

“That I did.” The car turned onto a bridge, and as it crossed the River Seine, Chloé looked out the window to the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower.

Sometimes she had to pinch herself to remember this wasn’t a dream, but her real life. But with views like that outside the car, and views like Ethan and Zayne in it, it was almost impossible to believe.

They drove around the streets, past the Palais Garnier, and finally back to the street JULIEN was on.

As the limo slowed, Chloé took in a deep breath and handed Ethan her glass. While this little distraction had done its job in calming her, it was time to get her head back in the game.

Unlike her “debut” in Chicago, where the restaurant had been full of fellow chefs and food critics, tonight was going to be judged on a very different scale. The French were very particular and opinionated when it came to their food, and it was important to her that the locals were the ones who were impressed tonight.

There was a small crowd gathered around the front entrance of the restaurant, and when the limo drew to a stop, she peered outside.

“What are they waiting for?” She knew it wasn’t her. She wasn’t some kind of celebrity, and they hadn’t done any kind of press for the restaurant’s change over. So the crowd made no sense. “There should be plenty of tables inside.”

Zayne shrugged. “Don’t know—maybe we should go and see.”

Ethan pushed open the door and climbed out, then held a hand out for her, and as she stepped out, Zayne followed. As the limo drove off, several of the people in the crowd turned to try to get a look inside—and that was when she saw them.

Three very familiar men stood amongst the small gathering of people. One in particular was hugging everyone and doing the traditional French double kiss to each cheek.

“Père? Dad? Papa?”

Her fathers turned, and when they caught sight of her, their faces lit up.

“Mon ange.”

“Angel.”

“Chloé.”

Chloé’s mouth fell open, and she blinked several times, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

Her fathers were here? In Paris?

That definitely seemed to be the case, as all three of them rushed over to hug her.

“What are you—? When did you—? How are you here?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Her dad kissed her cheek and then hurried over to Ethan and patted his arm. “Your lovely boyfriends flew us on your private jet.”

Chloé turned accusing eyes on Ethan. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Ethan smirked, and Chloé’s heart skipped a couple of beats. “It was a surprise.”

“You and your damn surprises,” she said, even as the grin on her face told him that this was the best one ever.

Her papa smoothed a hand over her braid, and eyed Ethan. “Well, don’t just be mad at him. Zayne was the one who called us up and arranged it all.”

Her eyes flicked to Zayne, who winked at her. “We love you, and we wanted to make your big night special.”

Chloé couldn’t have loved them more than she did in that moment, and it was all she could do to blink back her emotions. “Thank you.”

Her père came up on the other side of her to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Aw, bichette. Don’t cry.”

“I just…” She sniffed. “I don’t know what to say.” She swiped at a tear that slipped free. “I didn’t think you could be here, and now you are, and I’m just so happy.”

“Tant mieux.On t’aime, mon ange. C’est tout ce qu’on souhaite.”

“We were never going to miss your opening night,” Dad said, slipping an arm through Ethan’s elbow. “But before we could talk to your men about it, they had already contacted us. We were just lucky that Justin had some vacation time too.”

“Wait… Justin’s here too? I didn’t see him.”

Ethan nodded. “He’s here. All of your men are here tonight.”

She looked around, trying to spot him, then heard—

“Well, it’s about time you showed up, kiddo. You are cooking tonight, right?”

She whirled around to see Justin stepping out of the restaurant with…the staff members behind him.

She almost stopped to ask what was going on, but before she could, he’d wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a tight hug.

His kissed her on the side of her head then said by her ear, “You deserve all of this and more,” then he let her go and moved over by their fathers.

It wasn’t until she was left standing on her own that she realized quite the crowd had gathered.

Ethan and Zayne moved up beside her as her père walked over toward the main window of the restaurant, and that was when she realized that she’d been so distracted by her family’s arrival that she hadn’t seen the black covering across it.

“Wait—what’s going on?” She looked over at the staff, worry stamped all over her face.

“Chloé.” Père reached up for the corner of the black material. “Tonight, we’re not only unveiling a new chef here at the restaurant, but a new name. Your fathers and I are proud to announce: JULIEN by Chloé Thornton-Priestley.”

As he pulled away the cover, Chloé’s breath left her. She took in the beautiful scrollwork that decorated the restaurant’s window.

It was everything she’d ever dreamed of as she looked around at the crowd of people she called family and saw them all smiling as they celebrated with her.

Then she zeroed in on Ethan and Zayne. Two men she never could have imagined, but who completed this dream.

They were her heart.

They were future.

And now that she’d found them, she planned to never let them go.