Page 18 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas

All Anna could manage was a murmur of agreement.

“I wasn’t sure from your messages if you were dating or if you were bringing a friend.”

“It’s early days,” she said, hating the lie.

“You’ve already met his parents,” she pointed out. “So not that early. How come you didn’t mention him before?”

“I suppose I didn’t want to jinx it.”

Frannie clutched her arm and squeezed. “I’m so happy for you. He seems lovely.”

“He is.”

“Oh, my goodness!” Frannie sucked in a breath. “Hayden is going to flip out when he sees you at the party with Warren.”

The thought of it made Anna feel much more relaxed about lying to her friends. Not that she wanted to make Hayden jealous. She didn’t even think that was possible.

It would just be nice if he didn’t look so smug when he introduced Anna to his latest fling.

Chapter Seven

They made it almost the entire way to the palace before Warren’s mum brought up the inevitable.

“How long did you say you’ve known Anna?” she asked from the back seat, her tone almost convincingly casual.

“For as long as I’ve lived here, but I only got to know her properly over the past couple of years.”

For his first couple of years in Chipping Campden, he’d been certain he wouldn’t stay long. He’d kept his head down and focused on his job. With hindsight, it should have been obvious that he and Lewis would end up becoming friends, given how much time they both spent at the hotel.

He might also have guessed that being friends with Lewis would mean the entire Carrington family would adopt him as a friend by proxy, but he’d never realised some families operated like theirs.

“She’s lovely,” his mum said, clearly dying to say more. “I’m glad we got to meet her.”

In the passenger seat, his dad nodded. “You’ve done well for yourself there. I admire her determination. It seems she has asolid plan for growing her business. Hopefully, some of that might rub off on you.”

Warren’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Dennis,” his mum hissed, a warning note in her voice.

“What?” his dad grumbled. “Anyone with an ounce of business sense knows that working for someone else is a mug’s game. He may be too proud to admit it, but Warren knows it too.”

“I like my job,” Warren said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to run my own business.”

“You’re lining someone else’s pocket when you could fill your own.”

Warren dragged in a breath, thinking about Carla’s anger management strategies. “Not every decision in life should be decided by money.”

“You can also set your own hours. That way, you wouldn’t have to miss out on things like a night away with your girlfriend.”

It took Warren a second to figure that he was referring to the Christmas party with Anna. He hadn’t even registered that his dad had been listening to that conversation.

A voice in his head told him to bite his tongue and not let his dad get to him, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.

“So you having your own business meant that you could organise your own schedule exactly as you wanted it?” he asked. “Am I supposed to assume that you just didn’t want to see your children when they were growing up?”

“We had plenty of family time,” his dad said, in a tone that suggested he believed it.

“Selena and I were practically raised by hired help,” Warren argued. Which was actually fine. The house had always been more relaxed when his parents weren’t around, but it was ridiculous for his dad to claim that being self-employed offered so much freedom when his life proved the exact opposite.