Page 15 of Fake Fiancée, Real Baby
Leopold didn’t have the media to contend with.
The sun was warm, and despite trying his best to concentrate, Adrien found his eyes closing. He was feeling sleepy, and, allowing himself to drift off, he was awakened by the clearing of a throat. Looking up, he found the steward standing in front of him.
“Lunch is served, Your Highness.”
“Ah, very good. I’ll be there shortly,” Adrien replied.
He returned to his cabin to freshen up, emerging onto the deck just as the maid appeared from the galley below, carrying a plate of what looked like tacos. She had a sulky look on her face and set the plate down at the table as Adrien sat down.
“They’re fish tacos with pineapple salsa and chipotle,” she said.
Adrien wondered what had upset her — or who.
“It looks delicious,” he replied, feeling somewhat disappointed Claire hadn’t been the one to deliver it.
The maid nodded, retreating below deck and leaving Adrien alone. The tacos looked delicious, and went perfectly with the cold glass of wine the steward had served him. Life on board theAurorawas proving pleasant, if a stark contrast to his normally hectic life. He’d seen no sign of paparazzi or photographers — there weren’t even any other boats moored in the bay. Grieg had remained below deck, and with his phone turned off, Adrien almost felt like any normal person enjoying a vacation in the Mediterranean.
Except I’m not normal, am I?
He’d just finished the first of the tacos when footsteps on the steps leading up from the galley announced an interruption. Looking up, he expected to see the sulky looking maid returned, but, instead, he was pleasantly surprised to see Claire, holding a dish in her hand, and looking somewhat nervous, as though she feared interrupting him.
“I wondered if you’d like some more fish? There’s plenty here. I always make too much. Mr. Bellagio has a good appetite.”
“It’s delicious. I would, yes,” Adrien said, beckoning her forward.
He hadn’t yet finished the tacos, and he wondered if this was but an excuse for her to come on deck. If it was, he was glad of it, for he’d found himself thinking about her a great deal over the past day. There was something about her — something different, intriguing, even. Adrien was bored with the same kind of woman — women like the princess, with their self-entitled ways and unforgiving attitudes. He liked Claire. She was pretty, but more than that, she interested him, and he was curious to know more about her, as much as he knew what his mother would say if she knew he was taking an interest in a cook…
“It was fresh from the market in Monaco. I just cooked it with some herbs and olive oil. I love tacos. I grew up eating Mexican food — my best friend’s mom was from there. She made the most delicious tamales,” Claire said, as she placed another piece of fish on Adrien’s plate.
“I’ve been to Mexico — unofficially. It was when I was younger. We went to a resort on the east coast. I couldn’t get enough of the food — tacos, tamales, burritos, enchiladas,” Adrien replied,smiling at the memory of a happy vacation spent with his parents.
“I’ll have to make more. I follow a few Mexican chefs on social media. It’s an incredibly diverse cuisine, so it’s no surprise how popular it is. There’re so many Mexican restaurants opening up — in Europe, too,” Claire said.
She had an obvious love of food — it animated her — and Adrien was curious to know what had led her to become a chef.
“What’s your favorite cuisine?” he asked.
Claire thought for a moment, sighing and shaking her head before she replied.
“Well… it’s stupid, I know. And it’s never going to happen. But I’d love to open my own restaurant — Mediterranean cuisine. Not a specific country. It’s more the style of cooking — Spain, France, Italy, Greece — simple food, cooked well. The best ingredients. Bold flavors. If I had my own restaurant, I’d pick a dish from here, and a dish from here. There’d be no one country on the menu, but lots of influences. That’s my favorite cuisine.”
There was enthusiasm in her tone — an enthusiasm Adrien found endearing. He liked people with passion, people who had ambitions and dreams. It made him think back to the princess at Le Paradis.What were her dreams? What was she striving for? Nothing — apart from a new Chanel suit and another handbag. But to hear Claire talk brought with it a sense of real drive and determination.
“It’s not stupid at all. And why shouldn’t it happen? You’ve got real talent. Everything you’ve made has been delicious. I can’t fault it. I’d pay good money to eat in your restaurant,” he said.
Claire blushed, but she seemed pleased at the compliment. “You’re just biased because I made that dessert for you.”
There was a mischievousness in her tone — a flirtation, even — and she held Adrien’s gaze as he laughed.
“Well, if you were going to open a restaurant, you’d have to put it on the menu. Then I’d be your first customer.”
“A royal endorsement,” Claire said.
She appeared visibly relaxed. Adrien was glad. He didn’t want her to behave formally with him. He liked it when those around him could be free and easy. There was no reason to stand on ceremony. He, too, felt relaxed in her company — she had such an easy way about her. There was nothing false or difficult in their conversation. What a refreshing change it was from princesses.
“If you were my first customer, I’m sure I’d get plenty more. But… it’s not going to happen. I know you’ll tell me not to be defeatist, but… I just know it won’t. I’m happy here, and when I’m not, I’ll get another job and move on.”
Adrien shook his head. “Don’t give up on your dreams. People like me aren’t allowed to have them. There are days when I wish I could dream,” he replied.
