Page 29 of All the Gossip from Paris (Royal Fashion #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The chateau’s main kitchen was nothing short of enormous. Little wonder the Royals had been able to cater for over four hundred wedding guests without a problem. Unlike the last time he’d been here, Liam couldn’t linger outside.
As he walked around the room, he counted four commercial sized ovens. There were five specialized work stations. Not to mention a huge walk in cool room. He’d been inside enough kitchens in major hotels and restaurants to know this place could handle anything that was thrown at it.
“This is a Sauté station for sauces, pan fried food, and sauteed dishes. That one is a Poissonnier station, for fish,” said Sophie, pointing to the other end of the room.
“And then we have the R?tisseur station which is for meat. The Entremetier station for vegetables. And finally the Patissier station. Which is for bread and pastries among other things.”
“And desserts,” added Liam, suddenly swallowing down a lump of dread.
He wasn’t prepared for the painful memories which came flooding back. Memories of the last time he’d been inside a commercial kitchen. Of what he’d seen that night.
Even the joy he found in being with Sophie couldn’t hold back the dark mood which threatened.
Breath. Slow. In and out. Calm.
Liam had to fight the almost overwhelming urge to flee.
Sophie gave him a gentle pat on the arm.
“Don’t panic, Liam. I wasn’t going to ask you to cook.
You’re with the Royal sister who is not afraid to pick up a knife and slice into something.
Cami on the other hand couldn’t cook a piece of toast to save her life.
I’m actually quite handy in the kitchen. ”
Fuck. This could get really weird.
The first sting of tears forced Liam to finally make a decision. There was nothing for it—he was going to have to tell Sophie the truth about why he was so on edge in her family’s kitchen.
“Are you ok, Liam?” she asked.
He sucked in a deep breath and composed himself. “I told you Brooke, my ex fiancée was a chef. I spent a lot of time in kitchens with her. We used to cook up a storm at our old apartment in Queens. I haven’t been near a commercial kitchen since the night I found her and another guy naked…”
Sophie met his gaze, but said nothing. She was clearly waiting for him to offer up more. To share his heartache. To do as she’d done. Trust another person with their pain.
“Brooke cheated on me with someone who I thought was my best friend. Turns out he was a two faced prick. He’d been hooking up with her in secret for over six months, when I finally walked in on them.”
“Merde. That’s low. And believe me, I know a thing or two when it comes to having an unfaithful partner,” replied Sophie.
Her ex Patrice seemed just the sort who would screw around. At the same time he’d still want to keep a woman like Sophie Royal on the end of a leash. Only a damn fool would ever let her go.
She took a hold of his hand. “Let’s not get into a session of trauma dumping—that would really spoil the mood. And my appetite. How about we just agree that we’ve both been burned by other people and leave it at that. A broken heart shouldn’t ruin your love of good food for the rest of your life.”
Liam let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His therapist would be disappointed. He’d spent a fortune on sessions, learning how to deal with his issues in a healthy manner. And at the first real challenge, he’d gone back to clenching his teeth and holding his breath.
“Let’s not give other people that sort of power over us. Though I must confess I’m still holding a serious grudge. I might have gone to their wedding but that didn’t?—”
“What?! You went to their wedding,” exclaimed Sophie, cutting him off. “Non. I couldn’t have done that.”
“I know it sounds ridiculous, but our families are all close. My parents do business with Brooke’s folks. My friend was someone who’d been a part of my life since I was a kid. I think I was still in a state of denial right up until the moment they said, ‘I do’.”
The official line had been that he and Brooke had decided to call off their engagement. She’d only fallen into her now husband’s arms on the rebound. It was a flat out lie, but he didn’t have the strength to call bullshit.
It was one of the reasons why he’d embraced his career as a world travelling photographer. There was safety in international borders. If he was out of the country, he couldn’t run into his ex.
But poor Sophie, she had to face Patrice every day.
I don’t know how she does it.
He was busy feeling sorry for her, but Sophie clearly had other ideas. “Right. So no more talking about broken hearts, or shitty relationships while we are around food.” She held up a hand. “This kitchen is a sacred space, and only good things will be tolerated here.”
Sophie’s words pulled Liam back from the edge. He’d been spiraling. On the verge of sinking into a bad place.
He could have kissed her.
Actually that’s a great idea.
Pulling her into his arms, he held her close. When their lips met, it was in a long and hungry kiss. This could all end in a mess, but he didn’t care. He was going to take this time with Sophie and enjoy it.
He would feast on her joy. Drink in her laughter. And if at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve she called time on their relationship, then at least he’d leave France knowing he hadn’t wasted this opportunity.
* * *
A throat being loudly cleared shocked them from their embrace. As Liam drew back from the kiss, Sophie glanced toward the entrance to the kitchen. Camille and Ryan stood in the doorway.
So much for keeping this a secret. Two minutes into their Christmas holiday romance, and they’d already been discovered.
Heat burned her cheeks. She had a handful of lies ready to offer to her sister and brand-new brother-in-law. The sly look which the newlyweds exchanged between them told her they weren’t in the market for tall tales.
Liam to his credit said nothing. Like her, he seemed willing to wait for what their siblings had to say before speaking.
“We came for bread and cheese,” said Camille.
Her sister could do the deadpan face like a master.
She was giving nothing away. Her husband was equally bland with his expressions.
They’d been married for all of three days, and they were already working in sync. Like the parts of a well-oiled machine.
A tinge of jealousy lit in Sophie’s heart. She longed for that kind of connection with a man.
“Yes, we did. And cold meats. I think there is some wild boar salami in the cool room,” added Ryan. A sly smirk had crept to the edges of his mouth.
They were giving little away. Had they already figured out that something might be going on between her and Liam?
“Yeah, there is some salami. I found a couple of large jars of leftover stuffed olives from the wedding too. You might want to take one of those as well,” said Sophie. The sooner Camille and Ryan were gone, the better. This was so embarrassing.
She and Liam stood silently staring at one another while the newlyweds foraged for treats in the cool room.
When they finally reappeared, Ryan was carrying a picnic basket. He was holding it with both hands. The haul from the cool room must have been a good one. Camille followed closely on his heels, a bottle of Cru Classe St-Estèphe in one hand, and a bottle of Badoit sparkling water in the other.
The loud hum of a motor filled the room. Out the window Sophie spied a silver Sikorsky executive helicopter coming in to land. Francois and Marina would soon be leaving for Switzerland. At least that was one spot of good timing for the day. Her parents wouldn’t be back until after the New Year.
That only leaves my sister and brother in law to deal with.
“We shall leave the two of you to get on with your… cooking,” said Camille, following her husband out the door.
The second they were gone, Liam opened his mouth, then stopped. From out in the walkway came the sound of giggling. “Oh my god! What if we’d been five minutes later?!” exclaimed Camille.
Ryan’s deep voice reached her ears. “I don’t think they would have done it in the kitchen. But yeah, what the?”
The sound of footsteps and voices slowly faded.
“You don’t think they will run and tell your parents, do you?” said Liam.
Sophie shook her head. If there was one thing she knew for certain it was that Camille would take what she’d seen today to the grave. “No. Cami doesn’t confide in our parents. If she is shocked or angry about us, she will deal with it in private. She won’t run out to the chopper to tell them.”
“Not that there is an us. I mean we are keeping this casual, aren’t we? No expectations,” replied Liam.
She’d reacted before she could stop herself. Those words cut deep. Delivering the same pain as rejection had always done.
He was right. They both lived in different countries. Lived two very different lives. This thing was likely no more than a festive fling. Something that would die a natural death after New Years Eve. No one was going into this imagining that they would get hurt.
And yet as Sophie turned away, heading toward the cool room, she found herself blinking back tears. The faint hope that Liam might see their time together as more than just an affair quietly faded away.