Page 99 of Still Yours
It’s the number ofC’est Trois.
Confused, I rise on my elbows. If this is Stone’s way of getting creative and tricking me into answering the phone …
“Stop calling me,” I say after I answer the call.
“Interesting, considering I’ve never contacted you before,” Saint’s voice drawls.
“Oh! Shit—I mean, oh, hi.” I pop up, pressing the phone hard into my ear. “How can I help you?”
Saint’s deep chuckle resonates through the phone. “That’s a funny thing to ask, considering you’re the one in the hot seat at the moment.”
I slump forward. “So, you’ve heard.”
“I haven’t been a small-town resident for long, but yeah, the grapevine here is faster than any winery I’ve been to.”
“Yeah.” I rub my eyes with my free hand. “It’s likely the juiciest gossip Falcon Haven’s had since, well, since Stone’s fame.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“Thanks.” I chew on my lower lip. “Is that why you called? To check on me?”
“No, actually. I was wondering why you’re not in class this evening.”
“I would think that’d be obvious.”
“Silly me, I took you for a woman of determination and focus, not one who scurries into a corner as soon as the shit hits the fan.”
I straighten. “Excuseme?”
“Maybe it’s the chef in me, but anyone who puts as much practice into the perfect plate as you have also had the gonads to continue her learning despite her personal life blowing up in her face.”
“Has anyone told you that you donothave a way with words?”
“Why do you think I choose to spend most of my time with food? Get over here, Chef.”
The way he says a title I don’t deserve completely derails what I was about to say next. “I—I drove too far away.”
“How far?”
“Uh…” I pull the phone away from my ear and check the maps. “Maybe an hour?”
“Class starts in forty-five. Be there.”
“No—wait!” I say before he can hang up. “How can I get through the paparazzi? They know Stone and I go to your restaurant every Tuesday.”
“There’s a back way. Park in the lot behind the restaurant, near the dumpster. Text me on my cell—I’ll send you my number—and I’ll meet you and sneak you in.”
“Okay, but what about Stone? I cook with a couple. With another person, I mean. With Stone.”
Ouch, it still scratches my throat to say his name.
“We’ll work around it. I’ll be your sous chef tonight.”
“Huh? You? My couple cook?”
“Don’t make me change my mind, Chef. Be here in forty-five.”
Saint clicks off without saying goodbye, essentially denying me the chance to tell him where to shove it and that there’sno way I’m returning to the lion’s den, whose resident lion I narrowly escaped.
