Page 7 of Eat Slay Love

Chapter five

Top Secret and Tempting

Rae

What could he be hiding?

I tried not to let my anticipation show, but my fingers curled subtly into my lap as I watched him pull the wallet open.

My nerves buzzed with an unexplainable energy.

And then—I saw it.

A sleek black ID card, crisp white lettering at the top and his sexy picture.

Then, I read the words.

Stellar Star Inspector.

My jaw damn near unhinged.

“No way.” My voice wasn’t a whisper, but it wasn’t loud either.

Still, my shock was palpable .

He didn’t move, didn’t react—just let me stare, let me process, let me marinate in this revelation.

My knowledge of the Stellar Star process wasn’t vast , but it was enough.

Enough to know that no one ever knew who these inspectors were—not the restaurant owners, not the chefs, not the staff, not even the guests who unknowingly sat around them.

And that secrecy was everything.

Because Stellar stars weren’t just awards. They were golden fucking tickets in the culinary world.

One Stellar star?

You had an absolutely great restaurant that was better than the rest in your area and definitely worth stopping by.

Two Stellar stars?

Exceptional .

A place worth altering all travel plans to experience this once in a lifetime dining adventure.

Three Stellar stars?

A masterpiece .

The kind of dining that made grown men and women cry.

The kind of place where reservations were booked years in advance and chefs became legends.

I looked at Fabien again, this man who had effortlessly made my body betray me multiple times tonight.

“You—” I blinked. “You’re a Stellar Star inspector.”

He nodded.

Then, with the same smoothness that had been testing my self-control all night, he slid the wallet back into his pocket.

I sat there, stunned.

I had known he was wealthy—that much was obvious. The suit, the watch, the entire aura of someone who was used to being catered to.

But this?

This was power.

Real power.

A serious wealth flex.

Because a single review from him could change the entire fate of this restaurant. A good one would mean sold-out tables, worldwide recognition, and a seat at the industry’s most coveted table.

A bad one?

Could be a death sentence.

I swallowed, leaned in slightly, and kept my voice low. “So. . .Alchemy already has one Stellar star. Is this like a yearly review to see if they keep it? Or. . .are you about to give them a new one?”

His lips twitched. “You know this is classified information?”

I smirked. “Yet, you’re going to tell me.”

His green eyes flickered with amusement. “And why is that?”

“Because. . .” I leaned in even closer. His naughty gaze went to my breasts then lifted back to my eyes.

I winked. “Because, I’m nosy and awesome.”

And then he smiled.

Not the smirk, not the polite curl of lips he had been teasing me with all night.

A real smile.

A knee-weakening, gut-punching, full-on heartbreaker of a smile.

I almost reached for my drink just to cool the hell down.

“Yes. I will tell you because you’re awesome for sure.

” He let out a peaceful sigh like he was absolutely enjoying himself.

“And yes, Alchemy has one Stellar star. But the prior inspector believes it should now be at two . Under Stellar policy, a second inspector must confirm if the change is deserved.”

I let out a low, impressed breath. “Wow. So this could be a big night for the chef and staff, but they have no idea.”

“Exactly.” His gaze dipped to my breasts again, before lifting back up to my face. “Not that I’m going to be. . .truly paying attention to the dishes as much as I had initially intended.”

Oh.

Warmth flushed through me like champagne bubbles.

I picked up my drink and took a sip, because this man was going to ruin me.

Lust laced his next words. “I have suddenly become distracted from my mission tonight. Let’s hope the food can somehow wow me as much as you.”

Damn.

I cleared my throat. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Twenty years.”

“Wow. Is it fun?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering his answer. “Many would think so. I spend three weeks every month, daily, eating two full meals at various high-end restaurants all over the world. Basically, I don’t have a lot to complain about.”

“And how does one even get this job? Like. . .I’m probably going to apply.”

He chuckled. “Well. . .I went to culinary school. After graduation, I worked as a chef in a Stellar-starred restaurant for a few years. Had tons of articles written about me. Made my parents proud. Felt good. Then, I got bored with being a chef, quit, and became a food critic. I found that it was much more fun to be at the table, than in the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.”

He shrugged. “Eventually, I was approached by Stellar to be an inspector.”

I tried to do the math in my head. “So you’re. . .in your forties?”

“I’ll be hitting fifty this year.”

My brows lifted. “Really? Well. . .you look more like you’re about to hit forty.”

“Oh no, I’m not as young as you.”

I nearly choked on my drink.

He continued, completely unfazed by my near-death experience. “In fact, here’s some advice, young one , enjoy your thirties as much as possible.”

“Thirties?” I set my drink down, shaking my head. “Fabien, I am forty-seven.”

For the first time, his smooth seducing mask cracked.

Genuine shock flickered across his features. “Really?”

“Yes.”

His head tilted slightly as he assessed me. Then, with a slow, indulgent glance, he murmured, “Remarkable. Skating around the beach and surfing all day must really keep the youth in one’s skin.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t with you.”

His lips curled. “And what do you do, Rae, my California girl?”

The way he said my . . .it sent something warm curling low in my belly.

I cleared my throat. “I’m an intimacy coordinator in Hollywood.”

His brows lifted slightly. “An intimacy coordinator?”

“Yep. I choreograph sex scenes in films.”

He blinked.

Then, blinked again. “Oh my.”

I snorted. “Yeah. I’ve got a dope job too.”

He let out a slow breath, as if recalculating everything he thought he knew about me. “Oh no. Your job beats mine.”

“No way.”

“It really does. What’s a film you’ve done?”

“Have you ever seen Seven Days ?”

“I believe the entire world has seen that movie and I’m sure a lot of babies were made after that.”

I chuckled.

His eyes darkened immediately. “Very steamy.”

I lifted my glass, pretending not to notice how his voice dropped a full octave. “Well, I coordinated all four sex scenes. So. . .you’re welcome.”

He stared at me like he wanted me naked.

I nervously finished my drink.

Then, suddenly, he exhaled and said, “I have so many questions, but none of them are appropriate.”

I raised a brow. “Oh really?”

“Oh yes.”

“Tell me them.”

“No.” His smirk was almost devastating. “I’m a gentleman.”

“Are you?”

He placed a hand over his heart. “Absolutely.”

“I feel like that’s a lie.”

He leaned in slightly and his voice shifted to a low purr. “Perhaps in a few weeks or months, I’ll ask you those very ungentlemanly questions.”

Weeks. Months. Oh he’s trying to put in some serious time with me. God yes.

“You’ll ask me later because. . .” I swallowed. “I’m going to give you my phone number?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “If you do not give me your phone number, I know people who can get it.”

I snorted. “That sounds very spy-like.”

“I’m basically an international spy.”

I laughed, but the anticipation in my veins buzzed.

Because this man—this French, sinfully smooth, dangerously confident man—was already planning to see me again.

And I wanted him to, but before I could respond, Cosmo reappeared, smiling as he presented the first course to the whole room and tons of waiters began to bring the plates over.

I checked out the one that our waitress placed in front of us.

Interesting.

It was a glistening, indulgent plate of something rich, sauced, and sensual.

"Hello, Alchemists," Cosmo said. "For this course, we have a special rule from the chef on this Valentine’s Day evening."

He scanned the room with a mischievous smile. "No utensils allowed. You must use your hands and you also must absolutely feed each other."

A ripple of laughter and hushed excitement spread through the space.

And just like that, he was gone, leaving us with a plate of food and nothing but our fingers.

Fabien exhaled, slow and amused.

"This should be fun." And with that, he lifted a single ball from the plate. Something warm, drippy, and decadent.

“I have no idea what this is, but I am absolutely amused.” He turned it slowly in his fingers, letting the sauce glide over his skin.

Then, he looked at me and slowly brought it toward my lips. “Chef’s rule.”

I leaned forward, let my lips just barely brush his fingertips as I took the bite.

The way his fingers glistened with sauce.

The way his emerald eyes locked on my mouth, waiting.

It all made me wet.

Slowly, I opened my lips wider and he tenderly fed me.

The entire moment was pure foreplay.

Mmmm.

I swallowed.

The bite was warm, savory, rich, and sinful, but the food was the last thing on my mind.

Because Fabien hadn’t moved those fingers from my lips and his gaze remained on my mouth too.

Oh my.

Then, with excruciatingly sexy deliberation and his piercing gaze fully on me, he lifted his hand to his mouth and licked the sauce off his fingers.

Mmmm.

I couldn’t have coordinated a better intimate moment.

I clenched my thighs, suddenly realizing how big of a mistake my saying yes to enjoying the evening with him was because. . .I was in deep trouble with this man.

And the night had only just begun.