Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Chloé won’t like this, but it’s for her own good.

~ Ethan

ETHAN PULLED INTO the empty lot behind JULIEN and stared at the door that led inside. This was the last thing he’d been planning to do this week, but after what had come to light yesterday, there was really no other choice.

He glanced at his watch to see it was just turning two, and he was hoping against all hope that when he knocked on that door, the people he wanted to talk to were inside.

Chloé’s shift didn’t start until three today, but one thing he knew about running an afternoon/evening business was that someone was always there early—especially in the restaurant industry.

Knowing he wasn’t going to accomplish anything sitting there in his SUV, he pushed open the door and climbed out, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jacket.

This could go one of two ways, as far as he could see. One, what he had to say would be heard and acknowledged, or two, he could be told to get the hell out. It was a crapshoot at this stage, but with reporters no doubt digging into who Chloé was at this very minute, he knew he had to at least try to protect her. Even if she didn’t think there was a problem.

He headed to the back door, noticed a camera above it, and wondered if anyone had seen his approach. But when it remained shut and there was no angry Frenchman demanding he get off his property, Ethan figured so far, so good.

He knocked several times and took a step back, waiting for someone to answer, then a blond woman in a chef’s uniform and apron appeared. “Front door’s around the corner, but we don’t open for a couple more hours.”

“I know.” Ethan flashed his most persuasive smile as the woman went to shut the door, and thankfully it worked. She paused. “I was actually wondering if the owner or manager was available.”

“Oh, um…” She cocked her head to the side. “Are they expecting you?”

“No, but if you could let them know that Ethan Holt is here and would like to speak to them, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

A red tinge colored the woman’s cheeks as she nodded. “Just give me a minute?”

“Of course, take your time.”

With a final look his way, the woman shut the door, and Ethan turned to look out at the city behind him. It was beautiful today, the storm having pushed through the night before leaving behind clear skies, and he hoped that was sign of things to come—because he wasn’t sure how many more surprises he could deal with this week.

Several minutes later, the door opened once again, and this time the woman stood aside and gestured for him to come in.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to them.”

Bingo.“Thank you.”

She smiled and led him down a back hall and into the kitchens. As he stepped inside, the sounds of people laughing and chopping food met his ears, and Ethan stopped for a moment to look around. The kitchen was huge, with stainless-steel appliances and stations everywhere he looked, and he couldn’t help but picture Chloé at one of the oven ranges cooking up a storm.

“This way,” the woman said, and Ethan continued out a set of double doors. She stopped in front of an elevator and pressed a button on the wall. “They’re in the skybox going over some things. They said to send you up.”

Interesting… He too liked the suspense a good elevator ride gave to the unknown. But he hadn’t expected one in the middle of a restaurant.

When the doors opened, he stepped inside and thanked the woman for her time, then waited for it to begin its ascent. He looked down at himself and made sure his jacket and tie were in order. Once he was satisfied he was as put together as he should be to meet one of Chloé’s fathers, he straightened his shoulders, ready to face the music. But when the doors reopened, Ethan’s feet faltered for the first time in years.

He’d been expecting the famous chef Julien, or perhaps the manager of the restaurant, Chloé’s dad. What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was all three of her fathers waiting there for him to remember how to walk.

Fuck.

“Bonjour. You must be Ethan.”Chef Julien greeted him first, getting to his feet. “Welcome to JULIEN. Though I do believe you have been here before.”

Ethan scanned the men at the far end of what appeared to be a private dining space and noted the younger, flashier of the three—Chloé’s dad—was currently seated on the lap of a stoic-looking man with thick silver hair and a closely cropped beard.

Ethan finally returned his attention back to the one who’d addressed him. “Bonjour,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Thank you for seeing me, and you’re right—this is not the first time I’ve been here.”

“We know. Apparently, that was the night you came here to proposition our daughter.”

Ethan’s eyes shifted to the silver-haired fox—though he looked more like a savage wolf right now—pinning him with a stare. Even without Chloé’s description of each of her fathers, Ethan would’ve known in a heartbeat that this was the “scary” lawyer—Priest.

“If by proposition you mean ask her if she’d like to see us again, then that’s right.” He wasn’t about to lie, especially not to this man, though he wasn’t quite sure whether they knew how the three of them had first met, so he decided to leave that part up to Chloé. “Your daughter’s a smart, beautiful woman. We’d met up with her once and didn’t want to let the opportunity of a second chance pass us by.”

“We?”

Ethan could tell Priest was testing him, seeing if he could rattle him, but he had nothing to hide. “Yes. My partner Zayne and I.”

Priest’s eyes narrowed as he stared him down for several silent seconds, and when it was clear Ethan wasn’t about to run—or cry—the man on Priest’s lap moved to his feet.

“Okay. Okay.” Chloé’s dad offered up a smile as bright as his aquamarine shirt and made his way over to Ethan. “Let’s try to start this on a positive note, why don’t we?” He glanced over his shoulder to the other two. “Jules, Joel, behave.” He turned back to Ethan and held his slim hand out. “Hi, I’m Robbie or Robert—”

“Robbie,” Priest growled, making Ethan very aware that “Robert” was special and he should never use it.

“I’m Chloé’s dad.”

Ethan took his hand in a firm grip, and when he shook it, Robbie arched a brow, giving him a very thorough once-over.

“Ooh, you have quite the grip there, don’t you?” It seemed Chloé got her flirty, sassy side from her dad.

“Robert…”

“Oh hush, Joel. I’m just being friendly.” He aimed that megawatt smile Ethan’s way again. “Okay, so let me introduce you to these two. This is the most talented chef in the world, Julien, Chloé’s père, and this is Joel—though most call him Priest—her bodyguard and papa.”

Ethan gave a clipped nod, and Priest eyed him in a way that would send most men packing. Luckily, he wasn’t most men.

“It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Is it?”

“Joel.” Robbie glared at his husband, and Ethan appreciated at least one of these three being on his side.

“That’s okay. I understand his skepticism.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Priest sat back and crossed his arms. “And what would you know about it? Do you have a daughter?”

“I do not.”

“Then you don’t know shit.”

“Mon Dieu,” Julien muttered. But Ethan wasn’t fazed—he’d expected this kind of pushback. He would’ve been more shocked if they’d welcomed him and Zayne with open arms. He imagined her fathers had been picturing this moment for days now, and he wasn’t about to deny them their moment to express their opinion.

“You’re right,” he finally said. “I don’t know what you’re feeling. But I do understand your disbelief in this particular moment, because up until Monday, I wasn’t planning to meet you. At least, not anytime soon. But here I am, and I’m almost happy about it, because in the last five minutes I’ve learned more about Chloé than I ever could’ve imagined.”

“You think so, do you?” Priest said.

“Yes. She’s sassy like her dad, creative like her père, and…headstrong like you. From the very beginning she was an intriguing mix, and now I can see where it all comes from.”

“He’s not wrong, mon cœur.” Julien sat back down at the table, but a small smile now tugged at his lips, showing off a dimple that added to his overall good looks. “Chloé is all those things.”

Priest looked at Julien, frowning. “That still doesn’t explain why he’s here.” He then aimed his eyes back in Ethan’s direction. “We were supposed to be meeting you and your—”

“Zayne,” Ethan cut in, letting Priest know in no uncertain terms that he was just as protective over who he considered his. He’d been through a lot recently, and the last thing he needed to happen here was for his patience to be tested. Something Priest seemed to understand, and maybe even respect.

“Yes. I thought we were meeting the two of you on Saturday. So, you’re either here to back out or to try to win us over before an awkward dinner.”

“Actually…” Ethan walked forward, making it apparent that he was in no way intimidated. “I’m not here for either of those two things. I don’t run from anything, and I don’t care how awkward dinner is. If it makes Chloé happy, then we are going to be there.”

Julien chuckled and shook his head. “Quel homme courageux. Je suis impressionné.”

Ethan didn’t know what that meant, but Priest clearly did, judging by the less-than-impressed look he aimed the chef’s way.

Robbie hurried by him then, trying for a smile. But it looked more like a worrisome grimace as he slid in beside Priest.

“Then by all means, enlighten us,” Priest said. “Why are you here?”

Here goes nothing. “We’re worried about Chloé.”

“That’s rich—”

“Let him speak, mon cœur. I want to hear what he has to say.”

“Jules is right.” Robbie smoothed a hand down Priest’s arm, as though trying to soothe a savage beast. “Do you really think he’d be here right now if he wasn’t telling the truth?”

“I don’t know what he’d do, since I don’t know him.”

“Then let me tell you,” Ethan said, and all three pairs of eyes landed on him. “The other night, at the fundraiser for Zayne’s father, a video was taken of the three of us.”

That shut Priest up real quick, and Ethan could see the wheels turning.

“A video?”

“Yes. Before we ran into the two of you”—Ethan gestured to Robbie and Julien—“you might recall the senator having a discussion with us?”

Julien frowned and shook his head. “Non. All I remember is the three of you.”

“I understand, completely. However, just before that took place, Zayne and his father—who I’m sure you are aware of?”

“Yes.” Priest scowled. “He’s just another piece of this wonderful puzzle our daughter has decided to throw in our lap.”

“They got into a rather heated discussion.”

“Imagine that.”

“Stop it,” Robbie reprimanded his husband as he leaned forward and braced his arms on the table. “What do you mean, heated discussion?”

“If you know of Senator Copeland, then you know his…beliefs.”

“You mean the disgusting diatribe that spews from his mouth every time a camera is pointed his way?”

Ethan’s eyes shifted to Priest. “It’s when they aren’t pointed his way, too. I’ve known him most of my life, and he’s been this way from the very beginning. Zayne and I are used to the repercussions that come with our relationship and his father. Chloé, however—”

“Is not.”

“Correct.”

All three men were laser focused on him as his words lingered in the air.

Robbie frowned. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, repercussions?”

“The press.” Julien sighed and sat back in his seat. “Joel and I dealt with similar issues back in the day, remember?”

“That’s right.” Robbie nodded. “But that was so long ago. I can’t imagine it would be such an issue now.”

“A gay couple wouldn’t be. I’m not even sure that many would bat an eyelash at three these days. But when you attach those three to one of the most conservative mouthpieces on a public platform, it becomes news.”

Priest’s eyes darkened like the sky before a thunderstorm, and Ethan had a sudden flash of Chloé.

They have the same eyes. Does that mean—

“So what you’re really trying to tell us is—not only are you too old for our daughter, but you’ve drawn her into an already established relationship where she is about to be picked apart by rabid reporters?”

Ethan could see why they would be mad about that. Hell, he and Zayne were too, but he wasn’t about to back down now. He was there to protect Chloé from that exact thing.

“No. What I’m trying to tell you is we don’t want that to happen. An article came out yesterday asking who the redhead spotted with us on Saturday night was.”

“Putain.”

Ethan looked to Julien, who was shaking his head. “It should blow over quick enough. These things tend to disappear when no one engages or a new scandal hits the internet.”

“So our daughter’s a scandal now?”

“Your daughter’s amazing,” Ethan fired back, not about to let Priest believe for a second that he thought what they were doing was wrong. “We won’t let anyone talk badly about her. Which is why I’m here talking to all of you now. We know she has several shifts this week, tonight included. We’d like to ask you to keep her home the rest of the week, away from where anyone might track her down.”

Robbie scoffed and then let out a burst of laughter, which had everyone looking his way. He covered his mouth, but his eyes still twinkled.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make light of all of this, but have you met our daughter? She is not going to like being told what she can and cannot do, especially when it comes to work.”

Ethan knew exactly where he was going with this, which was why he was there in the first place.

“That’s why we’re asking you, her boss, to do it. We know how fiercely independent and”—he glanced at Priest—“headstrong she can be. We don’t want to take that away from her, just want to protect her the best we can.”

Julien ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “She’s not going to like this. But I understand where you’re coming from.”

Ethan nodded, thankful that they’d heard him out.

“I won’t lie to her, though,” Julien added. “Not after everything that’s happened this week. If she asks why I’m sending her home, I will tell her.”

In other words, I’m not covering your ass, so be ready for the fallout.

“We understand. We just want what’s best for her. Zayne and I will also be lying low for a while. Which is the other reason I am here. We’re heading out to a place we have in Winnetka tomorrow, and we’d like to invite you for the weekend. We know dinner was meant to be at your house this Saturday, but we’d hate to lead any reporters your way.”

Robbie’s eyes widened. “Is that a real possibility?”

“We haven’t seen anyone yet. But we’d rather not risk it.”

“So you want us to come to your place? In Winnetka?”

“Yes. We would like to invite you to come and stay for the weekend.”

“Stay?”

Ethan nodded. “It would be a good chance for you to get to know us, and vice versa.”

Priest spoke up. “I’m not all that concerned with vice versa.”

“Oh, Joel.” Robbie rolled his eyes. “The poor boy is trying here.”

“He’s not a boy, and he’s overstepping.”

Ethan had to agree—he was overstepping. But he couldn’t think of any other solution right now. With the story about Zayne and his father so hot off the press, it was too risky for them to visit Chloé at work or go to her house on the weekend. Just a glimpse of them anywhere near something she was associated with, and reporters would be all over them.

“I am, but I’m doing it because we really care about your daughter, and she loves all of you. Zayne and I would never try to come between that; we’re just asking for you to give us a chance.”

“Oh, mon cœur.” Julien rubbed a hand up and down Priest’s arm. “How can you argue that?”

Priest grumbled and let out a sigh. “What’s the address?”

Ethan resisted the urge to smile—he had them.

“No need for an address. We’ll send a car.”