Page 123 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas

“But you do know what you’re doing.”

“Winging it,” he said again.

“No,” she replied sternly. “You might have been winging it to start with, but you absolutely know what you’re doing now.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Michelin gave you a review, for goodness’ sake! How can you think you’re not good at your job?”

“I think I’m lucky they came on a day when everything was running smoothly.”

“That’s most days. And I thought they visited more than once.”

“I think they usually come more often.”

“Probably not a fluke, then. And kind of funny that you think Michelin don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“It was great to get the review,” he said.

“But you don’t think you can get a star?”

“The restaurants that get Michelin stars are run by top chefs.”

Standing, she went and got his coffee. Then stared pointedly at the writing on the mug when she gave it to him.

“I think it would be weird if they didn’t give a Michelin star to the world’s best chef,” she said, smiling.

He set the mug aside. “I think it means more to me that your brother thinks I’m good at my job than a Michelin star would mean.”

“Nice sentiment,” she said, sitting on his knee again and draping an arm around his shoulders. “Fairly sure it’s not true, though.”

His lips twitched in amusement. “A Michelin star would be great. But it genuinely doesn’t matter to me. I get to do a job I love, and I work with great people. That’s enough for me. I just hope your brother doesn’t fire me when he finds out I lied.”

“There’s no way Lewis would fire you.” She ran her finger through the short hair at the back of his neck.

“Aren’t you annoyed with me?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling.

“Why would I be?”

“Because I kept this from you. I outright lied to Lewis, but I essentially lied to everyone I’ve become close to since I moved here.”

“You’re being really hard on yourself,” she said. “It doesn’t matter to me how you got your job. I’m only glad youdidget the job.” She flashed him a flirty smile, and he tightened his arms around her.

“How am I going to explain this to Lewis?” he asked, burying his head in her neck as he hugged her.

“You’ll figure it out. And you have a week for him to get back from London. I’d say worry about it in a week.”

“Very wise,” he said, drawing back to look her in the eyes. “I may need a distraction though, so I don’t drive myself crazy worrying about it.”

“There’s always work,” she said, stifling a smile.

“And when I’m not at work?”

She swept her lips over his. “I can probably distract you.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Anna spent three nights in a row at Warren’s place. On the third morning, she woke with his arm draped across her. From his shallow, even breaths, she was sure he was fast asleep, but the moment she tried to slip out of bed, his arms clamped around her waist, drawing her to him.