Page 21 of All the Gossip from Paris (Royal Fashion #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY
Once they were outside of the atelier, Sophie headed quickly for the stairs.
Liam hurried after her. He got the distinct impression that she wanted to be as far away from Patrice as she could get in a short time.
When they reached the bottom, Liam turned to Sophie. “So that’s Patrice, is it?” he said.
He wanted to say more, but held back.
“Yes. I’m sorry about the way he spoke to you. He means well. But he can also be a bit full of himself.”
And here was me thinking he was just a rude pig.
She shouldn’t have to apologize for Patrice’s behavior. But Liam didn’t know anything about the dynamics of Sophie and her ex’s relationship. It would be careless of him to go getting involved.
He checked his watch. “It’s almost three o’clock. Are you still interested in going into the village and seeing if we can find somewhere to eat?”
Sophie screwed up her face. “All the boulangeries will be closed by now. I hadn’t realized it was that late. How about we go over to the kitchen and see what food we can beg from the head chef.”
“You don’t really beg for food here, do you?”
“They are in full prep mode for the wedding, so yes, this week we do.”
The main kitchen was located on the ground level of the chateau. The building itself was separated from the residence by a covered walkway. Liam followed Sophie to the door, then stopped. He hadn’t been inside a commercial kitchen in several years. Not since Brooke.
I’m not sure if I can go inside.
Liam could admit to being worried. Worried that he might actually lose his cool if something inside the kitchen triggered him into having a panic attack. None of it made sense, but then again who could explain how the brain reacted to emotional trauma.
He hadn’t looked at a cookbook in over two years. After the bitter breakup with his chef ex, he’d boxed up all his kitchen stuff and stored it away in the attic of his parent’s garage.
Through the windows of the kitchen, he could see many people moving about the space. The door might be closed, but the sound of raised voices still reached his ears.
“If you want to go talk to the chef, I can wait out here if you like,” he offered.
Sophie glanced at the window, then nodded. “Yeah. Papa has brought a few international chefs in. From the sounds of it I expect our resident team are having to make some concessions.”
Those concessions sound more like yelling, but ok.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said.
While Sophie disappeared through the door and went in search of food, Liam took a moment to rest. He leaned back against the hard stone wall of the chateau and closed his eyes. He’d slept on the plane, but it wasn’t the same as being in a proper bed.
“And they want us to go out for dinner tonight,” he muttered.
He’d be at risk of falling asleep at the table. Hopefully his parents would hit the wall before he did. They had better not be having a sneaky afternoon siesta.
Hands resting by his side, he took a moment to clear his mind. The day with Sophie had gone better than he’d hoped. Their earlier awkward greeting was little more than a memory.
She’d danced for him. Shown him her free and wild side. And been far more patient with him over the legacy of the world’s biggest designers than he really deserved.
I’m glad she came into the city. Now we can both enjoy the wedding.
The first sign of something being out of place was the touch of wetness on his hand. Figuring it was a drop of rain, Liam didn’t bother to open his eyes.
Then came something warm. Licking. Snuffling.
Liam cracked open an eyelid, and glanced down. Through a beige shaggy fringe a pair of dark eyes studied him.
“Either you’re a small long-haired bear, or you are Rollo,” he said.
The Royal family pet, stood tall. Rollo’s head reached past Liam’s hip height. The friendly Briard, gave Liam’s hand another warm, wet lick.
He bent and gave the dog a good scratch behind the ears. As he did, two large paws settled on his shoulders. Liam dropped to his knees. “Well hello to you too,” chuckled Liam.
The door of the kitchen swung open, and Sophie appeared. She was carrying a small plastic box in hands. On top of the box was a plate with what looked like freshly minced meat on it.
Steak tartare perhaps?
“Down boy, let Liam up,” said Sophie.
The dog did as he was ordered, and Liam got to his feet. He took the plate from the top of the box.
He was about to sample the food, when Sophie nodded in the direction of the dog. “That’s for him. Our chef loves to spoil the family dog. Rollo has to be the best fed Briard in all of France.”
Liam set the plate down in front of the Briard, then stepped back while Rollo got busy with his meal.
Sophie flipped open the lid of the box, and Liam peeked inside. “An apple, some bread, and a chunk of cheese. Seriously?” he said.
“Chef said it’s our fault if we missed the formal lunch today. The cheese is Brie which has been allowed to come to room temperature. It will spread nicely on the bread. He gave us napkins and a knife.”
She pointed to the door on the opposite side of the walkway. “We can go eat in there out of the wind.”
Liam glanced at the meagre lunch offering.
He should be disappointed, but he couldn’t help but smile.
He was with Sophie, and they were going to have a makeshift picnic in one of the chateau’s ground floor rooms. It was far from the lavish hotel suite he would be sleeping in tonight.
But its simplicity was what made it so perfect.
These little moments with Sophie made him happy. Liam couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt happy. Whether she realized it or not, Sophie was helping to fill the cracks in his heart.
He turned to check on Rollo. The Briard had already licked the last morsel of meat clean from the plate, and was now nudging at Liam’s leg. He wanted more.
Liam bent and gave the dog a friendly pat. “How’s this for a deal? If you don’t beg for any of the Brie, I’ll make sure Sophie brings you a doggie bag home from tonight’s dinner.”
Rollo gave him a ponderous look. It all but said he didn’t know what a doggie bag was, but if it sounded as good as he hoped it did, then he was in.