Page 36 of Eat Slay Love

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 attwo. 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.”

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