Chapter 4

CHAPTERFOUR

Ethan drilling into a hole is something

I need to see more of in my life.

~ Zayne

“BONJOUR!” CHLOÉ CALLED out as she walked through JULIEN Saturday morning, then headed through to the kitchens and locker area.

It was just turning eleven, and after the last few days off, it was time for her to get back in the groove of things. Now that she’d finally moved and settled in her new place, she was ready to hit the ground running.

She stored her bag and quickly tied her hair up out of her face before starting her rounds. Since she was on opening duty today, she had a list of things to get through before her dad and père would show up for service later.

A lot of people were under the impression that being the executive chef of the restaurant meant that you showed up an hour before opening, went straight to the kitchen, and started cooking. But that was not the case if you were on opening shift.

She had to make sure everyone who needed to be there was. Did the dishwasher show up? The line chefs, the sous chef? Then she needed to make sure there weren’t any last-minute changes needed on the menu, and that the bar was fully stocked.

Once that was all checked and under control, she’d make sure food was prepped, the meat was seasoned, and all the vegetable and poultry was washed. Her job was all about lists, checks, and balances, and when she was happy, she moved on to the next part of her day—problem solving.

It didn’t matter how many days, months, or years they’d all been working here—no day at a restaurant was ever the same.

No day ever went smoothly, either.

“Chloé… Oh thank God.” Kayla, her sous chef, wiped her hands on her apron and rushed over.

“Uh oh. That sounds ominous.”

“Yeah.” Kayla grimaced. “The poultry order is running late.”

“How late?”

“Won’t be here until afternoon/evening.”

“Merde. That is not good.”

“I know.”

Chloé rubbed at her forehead, already thinking of what to do next. “How much do we have on hand?”

“Enough for maybe…half a service?”

“And the rest won’t get here until we’re mid-service at least? That won’t work.”

“Agreed.”

“Right. So let’s see what we have that we can substitute for it.” Chloé pulled open the fridge and walked inside, scanning the shelves. “Hmm, okay. Let’s do this. We’ve got beautiful filet mignons back here, and I know we have black truffles. So why don’t we take off Père’s duck and replace it with beef tournedos Rossini?”

Yes, that would work. The dish was always a favorite with the toasted sourdough and sautéed foie gras. Add in the Madeira sauce and it would be golden. That was one crisis averted, but there was still another main and appetizer to replace.

“We have fresh sole, right?”

“Yes, it came in early this morning.”

“Okay, let’s add sole meunière to the mains. It’s simple but classic, and always looks impressive too.”

“You got it. And the app?”

Chloé looked over the shelves in the fridge and landed on the shellfish. “Go with a creamy seafood bisque. We’ve got plenty of shellfish and cognac, and who doesn’t love a good bisque?”

“Perfect. We’ll get that all going.”

“Everything else is good?”

“Everything else is great.”

“Right, well, if you need me, I’ll be in the office cussing out our deliveryman.”

Kayla shook her head. “Better him than me.”

Chloé sighed and headed back to her dad’s office, where she took a seat and switched on the computer. It might seem strange to some, but this was the kind of thing she loved about her job, because when unexpected things happened, you had to think on your feet. You had to be flexible and a problem solver, and there was something so fun about that, the unexpectedness of it all.

The phone call to a longtime supplier who’d let them down, however? Not so fun. But it was all part of the job, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

IT WAS AN hour before opening, and Chloé was back in the kitchen. Prep work was all but complete, and the menu was taking shape, and by her calculations, her dad and père should be there at any—

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

“Bonsoir.”

—minute.

Her fathers made their way through the kitchens with smiles as bright as the day outside as they greeted their staff like they were family instead of workers—and that was another reason she loved what she did.

This place, JULIEN, was an extended family to her. It had been since the moment her père first brought her to the kitchen and introduced her as his newest sous chef, age four. Most of the staff had been there long enough that they’d watched her grow over the years, and she knew they would be years from now. That was the kind of atmosphere her fathers had created both here and overseas. JULIEN was a job no one ever wanted to leave.

“Mon ange.” Père winked as they stopped by her station. “How are you doing today?”

Her dad hugged her into his side and added, “Have you settled into your place? Or are you still getting used to your new men?”

“I settled in just fine. I’m not sure they’ve settled into having me there yet. I have lots of…things they’re not used to.”

Dad waved a hand in the air. “Oh, I totally get it. A princess moving in with princes must allow them an adjustment period for all the glitz and glam. Remember that and you’ll be just fine.” He batted his lashes at her père. “I was.”

“Noted.”

Père chuckled. “Other than that, how has your morning been?”

“Busy. Oh my gosh. Let me show you.” Kayla stepped in to finish off tying the last few strings around the filets as Chloé led her fathers out of the kitchen and toward the office. “I had to give Pauly a call about a missing delivery.”

A frown pulled at her père’s brow. “Oh? That’s unlike him. Was there a problem, or…”

“He was a little strange about the whole thing, actually, but he took it in stride. They were running late. He apologized and said they’d have our usual order here tomorrow—early.”

Pèrelooked at her dad, and they both nodded.

“That’s very good,” Dad said as he took a seat and opened the ordering forms on the computer. “And I see you updated everything and the pricing.”

Chloé narrowed her eyes. “Of course I did. I’ve been dealing with the vendors for a couple years now, Dad. I promise, I didn’t mess up your system.”

“Oh, I know.” He grinned at her. “No need to be defensive. I was complimenting you.”

“That’s right.” Père wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “I assume you updated the menu?”

Chloé pulled back from him, disbelief on her face. “Seriously? What’s with all this double-checking all of a sudden?”

“Not double-checking. I would ask the same of anyone. I need to know what I’m cooking tonight.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Then maybe just ask that. Do you really think I’d let JULIEN open three meals down? Without changing the menu out front?”

“Non, but—”

“There’s no but, just non. I would never embarrass you that way. I added beef tournedos Rossini, sole meunière, and a seafood bisque.” She wasn’t sure why, but the impressed look on her père’s face only fueled her annoyance.

Here she’d been feeling all sentimental earlier in the day, and in a matter of minutes the two of them had stomped all over her—apparently—fragile ego.

Did they think she was incapable of looking after this place? Well, not about to stick around and find out, she decided the best thing she could do was leave before she got her feelings hurt even more.

“If that’s all,” she said, angling her chin high. But before she could make her exit, a hand clamped on to her arm, halting her.

“It’s not, actually.”

She turned back to see a different kind of expression on her fathers’ faces now, ones full of…pride. Confused, she was about to ask what the hell was going on when her père took both her hands in his and said, “It’s time.”

Uh, what?“I don’t understand. Time for what?”

Père’s smile widened, a mischievous light twinkling in his jade eyes. “It’s time for your test, mon ange. Your evaluation.”

“My evaluation?” In all her years working for her fathers, she’d never had to pass any kind of evaluation. What was he talking about?

“That’s right.” Her dad beamed at her from behind his computer like she should be pleased with what they were telling her. “We wanted to test you a little bit today, and you passed with flying colors.”

“Test me?”

“Yes, we had Pauly miss his delivery on purpose.”

Chloé’s jaw hit the floor as she thought back to some of the things she’d said to the man. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because we wanted to see how you would handle it,” her dad said.

“And you did beautifully, bichette.”

“Are you kidding me? I was horrible to Pauly, and now you’re telling me he was…was in on it?”

“I’m sure you weren’t horrible,” Dad said. “Even when you’re mad, you’re really very sweet.”

Chloé blinked, trying to wrap her head around all of this. “But…but why? Aren’t you happy with what I’ve been doing here?”

“Of course.” Père chuckled. “This was just a little test to see if you were ready for more, and you are. It’s time for your evaluation from your peers.”

“I…” Still have no idea what’s going on.

“We’d like you to create your own menu for JULIEN. One that can be showcased and one that I can present you to the culinary world with.”

Wait… “What?”

“Your dad, papa, and me agree that it’s time for you to spread your wings and be recognized for the wonderful chef you have become. The way to do that is to show off your skill to fellow chefs and critics. So, what do you say, mon ange?”

For once in her life, Chloé had no idea what to say. But as her père and dad’s faces began to blur, the shock turned to happiness and then—sheer, unadulterated panic.

“Are you sure? I don’t think that I’m—”

“Ready? Capable?” Dad stood from his chair. “Weren’t you just the one telling us you knew what you were doing?”

“Yes, but—”

“And that you’d never embarrass us?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Chloé?” She heard Père’s soft voice and felt his gentle hand on her arm. “You’re ready for this.”

She looked into his earnest eyes, and the love she saw staring back had her doubts easing and her conviction setting in. He wouldn’t set her up to fail, and everything he’d taught her over the years was for this very moment. He was right. She was ready for this. This was her chance to show him everything he’d taught her.

“Okay. If you think I’m ready.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t think you are. I know you are.”

She swallowed around the lump in her throat and looked up at him, squeezing his hands.

“I’ll make you proud.” She looked past his shoulder to her dad and added, “I’ll make all of you proud.”

Dad dabbed at the tears under his eyes and smiled. “You already do, angel. You already do.”

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU think? Three or four shelves?” Zayne glanced over his shoulder to where Ethan stood looking at the bookshelf they were building under the stairs.

He had a tape measure in one hand and a drill in the other as he eyed the plank of wood Zayne held in place.

“I think there’s enough room for four. What do you think?”

“I think that’s perfect. She’ll love it.”

“Agreed.” Ethan walked back over and started to measure and mark where each shelf needed to go. “That way she’ll have room for more if she wants it.”

Zayne stood aside, a grin on his face, as he watched Ethan work. In a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, it was a version of Ethan he didn’t get to see very often. But he might come up with more projects around the house after witnessing this—because holy hell, Ethan in a pair of jeans wielding a drill? That was a fantasy Zayne didn’t even know he had.

The high-pitched whir of the drill startled him out of his daydream. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“That I love the way you’re looking at my ass right now.”

Zayne scoffed. “Arrogant.”

“You look like you’re two seconds away from ripping my jeans off.”

“Actually, I was just thinking how good you looked in them. So you’re wrong.”

“Uh huh. Well, if you’re not going to tear my clothes off, could you bring over that box of screws?”

Zayne grabbed them and stepped over the extra planks of wood lying across the floor. “Do you remember the last time we built something like this?”

Ethan reached for the screw Zayne held out to him. “Like this? I don’t think we’ve ever built a bookshelf.”

“No, I meant built something in general.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes, searching out the memory, then his lips tipped up into a devious smile. “The cabana at the estate.”

“Mhmm.” Zayne sidled up close to Ethan’s side and hooked a finger through the loop of his jeans. “You made me build that fucking bench.”

“Fucking being the operative word.”

Zayne leaned in and dragged his tongue up the side of Ethan’s neck. “We haven’t used that in years.”

Ethan turned his head until his eyes locked with Zayne’s. “That’s because we opened the club.”

“Maybe we should revisit it. Introduce our little wildcat to it.”

“I thought you said you weren’t trying to get me out of my jeans.”

Zayne chuckled, lowering his eyes to the very distinct bulge behind Ethan’s zipper. “I’m not. But watching you drilling into things has gotten me all hot under the collar.”

Ethan’s brow arched. “You’re not wearing a collar. Maybe we should change that? I might get more work done if you were stripped and chained up to the coffee table over there.”

Zayne glanced over to the table that had last been decorated with Chloé’s naked body and grinned. “You think you could resist me?”

“Feel like testing me?”

Zayne almost caved but then took a step back. “On second thought, why don’t you go back to drilling and I’ll go and stand over there somewhere?”

Ethan smiled as Zayne ducked out of reach.

Of course he wouldn’t mind getting Ethan out of those jeans. But at the same time, he was smart enough to know who had the most patience out of the two of them—and it sure as fuck wasn’t him.

So while the idea of getting naked with Ethan had his cock begging to come out and play, the notion it would be allowed out only to be tortured for a good thirty minutes made him hold back. He didn’t think he could last that long right now, and he didn’t want to let Ethan down. Even if that did mean his balls were now turning blue.

“Since you seem to be taking a little walk down memory lane right now…” Ethan drilled several screws into the bracket that would hold the shelf in place. “We need to talk about what’s going to happen with The Office going forward.”

Right. The two of them had discussed what their professional lives might look like now that Chloé had entered the picture permanently, and it was time to make a decision.

For so long it had just been the two of them, and they’d been in agreement that they would—and could—take a third together as part of their sexual relationship. But now that Chloé was part of their lives and had filled their desire for a willing submissive, there was no longer any need for…outsourcing, as Ethan called it.

Not to mention, they’d fallen head over heels for their feisty redhead and couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

“Yeah, you’re right. Were you thinking a replacement?”

“I was. I think that’s for the best. Don’t you?”

“Definitely.”

“I’m open to the two of us—or three when Chloé’s of age—dabbling in some exhibitionism down there. But no outsiders.”

Zayne nodded. “No one touches her but us.”

“Agreed.” Ethan secured the last bracket then slid the shelf into place.

“You have someone in mind?”

“I do, actually.” Ethan’s eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall. “They should be here any minute now. Feel like taking a break?”

* * *

ETHAN STARED AT Zayne from across the elevator as they made their way down to club level. Ever since their trip to Paris, he’d been thinking about the best way to proceed with this element of their establishment without stepping on Zayne’s toes.

He knew what his man liked, knew his sexual proclivities, but after a lengthy discussion, Zayne had made it clear he would not do any demonstrations on anyone other than Chloé.

To say Ethan had been shocked was an understatement. Zayne was always such a showman, lived for the eyes that were on him under a spotlight. But Ethan also knew how loyal Zayne was, and now that they’d found Chloé, he knew the only way Zayne would get back on a stage for others was with their girl.

They headed through the foyer and downstairs to the club, and Ethan spotted the one he’d called standing over by the bar. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in an immaculate grey suit, Bennett was one of their most sought-after doms, and exactly the right man for what they had in mind.

The only question was, would he want the job?

Zayne leaned in to Ethan’s side. “Nice choice.”

“Thought you might appreciate it, since you’ve always admired the way he handles his whip.”

“You think he’s gonna want to do this? He’s a dom, yeah, but an exhibitionist?”

That thought had definitely crossed Ethan’s mind, but so had the fact that, as a dom, Bennett got off on control. What was to say he wouldn’t get off on controlling an entire room?

“Let’s see, shall we?”

They made their way up to the bar, and Bennett turned. “Gentlemen.”

“Bennett,” Ethan said.

“Afternoon.” Bennett’s shrewd gaze landed on them. “It’s not every day I’m summoned somewhere. Let alone here.” He looked around the empty floor of The Office. “This must be important.”

“I like to think you were invited more than summoned.” Ethan gestured for their bartender—Hayden—who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Your usual?”

Bennett nodded. “I’m not going to say no to your top-shelf bourbon.”

“Smart man.”

“I like to think so.”

Ethan indicated three glasses, and once they were placed on the counter, Hayden melted into the background as quickly as he appeared.

“Okay, so color me intrigued.” Bennett took a sip of the alcohol. “Why have I been…invited here today?”

“We have a proposition for you.”

Bennett’s eyes landed on Zayne. “And what might that be?”

Ethan shifted in front of Zayne. “Not him.”

A wolfish smile curved Bennett’s lips. “My mistake. Can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I’m also not surprised.”

“As hot as this is”—Zayne stepped up beside Ethan, chuckling—“my ass isn’t what’s up for grabs. My position is.”

Bennett’s eyes widened a fraction, then he looked to Ethan. “I don’t switch.”

“We’re not asking you to.” Ethan took a sip of his bourbon. “We want you to be our new exhibitionist. We want you to show off your many skills.”

“Publicly.” Zayne flashed a wide grin.

“Why the sudden change?”

Ethan shrugged. “We’ve recently taken a full-time sub, and—”

“You fell in love.”

Ethan was about to refute that comment, but instead nodded. “We did.”

Bennett shook his head. “I don’t know, that’s not really my scene.”

“You’re a dom.” Ethan stepped forward. “You like control. Are you trying to tell me the idea of controlling a crowd of eager, sexually aroused people with your every move, every word, doesn’t appeal to you?”

Bennett drained his drink and placed the empty glass on the bar top. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Ethan smirked. They had him.

“That’s what I thought. Hayden?” Ethan gestured for their bartender. “Another round, please, and pour yourself one. Help us celebrate our newest employee.”