Page 38 of Building Romance
We bid goodbyes to our competitor teams who are all still cleaning. As we walk back to the main house, she looks over at me. “You know your way around a kitchen,” she states.
I nod.
“How?”
I smirk. “Don’t look so shocked,” I say.
She groans. “Are you going to tell me or not? You already said you didn’t have that many skills from the competition you did with your grandmother when you were little.”
I clear my throat and open the side door to the manor house. She steps through but glances up at me with curiosity as she does. Part of me still isn’t sure I can trust her. Should I give her any personal information? Hell, why not? This life detail doesn’t really matter and half of my life is already splashed all over the internet, which I’m sure she’s seen.
“I spent a summer interning with one of our chefs,” I explain.
“Seriously?” she asks as we walk upstairs.
“Yep. François was…a tyrant in the kitchen,” I say with a laugh as I remember his antics.
“Damn. François Leroy?” she asks.
I nod. He’s a very renowned baker who had a show on a food channel. My father offered him money he couldn’t refuse and he took over our Paris bakery. He also made a training program for several of our other flagship stores.
“The very one. He was merciless,” I admit.
She giggles. “I can only imagine. His reputation precedes him,” she says.
I unlock our suite door and she steps inside. I watch her release a long breath and I wonder what she’s thinking.
“I’m going to take a shower before dinner. See you down there?” she says as she opens her bedroom door.
“Sure. I need to do the same. I think I have flour in places it shouldn’t be,” I say with a chuckle.
She pauses and turns back to me, a wide grin on her face. “You surprised me today, Fletcher. I don’t surprise easily,” she confesses.
I shrug. “I suppose I’m the king of exceeding people’s expectations.”
She frowns. “Why’s that?”
“When they don’t think you have any capabilities, you tend to shock them,” I explain as I recall all the times people thought I was just a spoiled, playboy jerk who couldn’t do anything because he walked around with a silver spoon in his mouth.
Her frown deepens. “I didn’t mean to insult you like that.” Her lips twitch a little as if she’s fighting a smirk. “I mean, under normal circumstances, I would, but since we’re…in a truce and all…” She trails off with a shrug but I see a look of concern in her eyes and that surprises me. There’s no way Camryn Tanner would care about me. Is there?
“Go shower,” I command and I shut the door to my room.
Pulling out my phone, I decide I need to try to help her. No, I want to help her. Fuck. What is she doing to me?
“Al?” I answer when he picks up.
“Fletch?” he says.
“I need a favor,” I start. “We have a missing saltshaker situation.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cam
I’m feeling calm this morning as I get dressed. Yesterday surprised me. Hell, really, it was Fletcher that surprised me. He’s not the monster I thought he was and I’m not sure how I feel about that. Or maybe he is and I’m being fooled. I don’t know which way is up. I feel like I’ve fallen down some crazy rabbit hole and the universe is upside down.
I check my phone and there’s a message from the apartment group chat and Max. I check the one from Max first.
