by Amelia LeFay
Max moved to look over the clothes on the bed. “So the reason you’re cursing at shirts this morning is…”
“Who is doing the interview? I just found out that Chef Névenoé is the one who will be interviewing me,” he said. I looked to Max. Max looked to me. Neither of us had any idea who the chef was, something Wes picked up on. Shaking his head, he explained, “Chef Névenoé was the sous-chef of Chef Dieudonné, the man who left me his knives. I haven’t seen him since then. Now he’s coming to my restaurant and sitting down with me—”
“And you’re nervous,” I grinned. I’d never seen him nervous.
“No, I just don’t want to look like a twat in front of my hero’s top student,” he shot back.
“So you’re nervous,” Max nodded, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Do you want us there for moral support?”
“I’d rather not have a boner in front of him, thank you.” Wes glared at him, but before he could say anything else, I sat up and handed him the shirt. He took it from my hands and stared at it as if it were gold.
“M&J,” he said, looking at the small stitched letters I had put in the repair.
“Maxwell and Jane. I figured if you wanted us there, you would have told us earlier, so since we can’t be there physically, we’ll still be behind you…” My voice trailed off as they both stared down at me. It was so intense that I felt the need to swallow the lump in my throat. “Or maybe it was a lame idea?”
“On the contrary…thank you,” Wes whispered, and I could see he was getting hard.
“No problem. You should stick with shades of blue. The color suits you. A dark navy tie with that shirt and a gray-blue sweater over it. Casual but sophisticated.”
“Jeans?” he paused, thinking about it.
“Dark denim.”
He stared at me but nodded as he walked away.
“What did I do?” I asked Max.
“Nothing. You should know by now Wes is a sucker for that kind of shit,” he replied.
“Then why are you staring down at me, too?”
“A couple of reasons.”
“Which are?”
“First, you thought of and stitched that faster than even I could think of.”
“Thank you?”
“Second,” he said as he leaned down to grab my chin. His lips were hovering over mine.
“You said a lot of personal pronouns, ‘we’, ‘us’…”
“Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be upset about it.” I was getting ahead of myself.
“I’m not upset,” he replied, kissing me; I couldn’t help but kiss him back. His hands grabbed my towel to open it. “Why don’t we help him relax?”
“You have to get ready for work, too.”
He cupped my breast. “Are you only a submissive for Wes?”
My heart slammed against my chest. My ears felt like they were on fire.
I finally brought myself to answer. “No.”
Max took my hand and walked me to the bathroom. Standing behind me, he whispered, “Suck him off.”
“Okay.”
Wes was putting his toothbrush back into the cup before rinsing out his mouth. His green eyes met mine before they wandered down the length of my body.
“Jane…I…”
Stepping closer to him, I kissed his chest and pecs, sliding down to his abs until I pulled his jeans and boxers down. His cock almost slapped me in the face it was so hard already. “Jane,” he repeated, clenching on to the sink as I licked.
“You’re too tense,” Max said behind me. “When you are tense, you overthink. When you overthink, you cause more trouble for yourself”
“Ahh…” Wes hissed, placing his hand on my head as I kissed the side of him.
“You aren’t the same kid this chef knew before; you’re just as good. You might even be better. He’s coming into your kitchen.” Max kissed his ear. “Your temple. He’s going to pay you respect, not the other way around.”
When I looked up at him, Wes’ eyes were narrowed, and he was breathing through his nose.
“You are Wesley Uhler. Don’t bend over for anyone but me.” Max grabbed on to his neck. Wes glared, but it only made Max bite his lip. The bite turned into a simple kiss then the simple kiss became a full on make-out session. Wes ripped the towel from his waist and grabbed his ass.
Fuck it was hot.
Taking Wes into my mouth, I sucked to their moaning, which was music to my ears. I wanted more of him; however, I stopped when I felt his hand on my hair pull me back. It wasn’t Wes, it was Max. He held my head back, grabbed on to Wes’ dick, and stroked him hard. Wes bit his lips before finally his hot cum exploded on my chest.
“Keep that in your head today,” Max told him while licking his fingers.
Wes said nothing but took a deep breath and rinsed himself off. His whole body was now relaxed. Reaching down, he picked up his boxers and jeans and readjusted himself. He petted my head before leaving.
“Oh.” I jumped when I felt the cold towel on my chest. Turning back, Max was crouched beside me, wiping down my chest.
“You knew exactly what he needed to hear.”
He laughed. “Good thing you were here. I can’t talk him down and suck him off at the same time.”
“I’m sure you would have figured something out,” I replied, getting back on my feet. The very first thing I saw was my own reflection in the mirror.
Max stepped behind me with his hands on my waist, his blue eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
“You’re having second thoughts?” he asked, kissing my shoulder.
Leaning against him, I shook my head. “I’m just…I’m just shocked to see where I am.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never thought much of my future. I just got along from day to day. Now I’m here, engaged to you and sharing two men shamelessly. I think my brain is catching up to the rest of me.”
“Jane, you’re family now. My family. Wes’ family. You belong to us. We belong to you.”
“Personal pronouns.” I smiled and so did he.
“Don’t let your brain catch up. It will only make you doubt, or worse, run.” He kissed the side of my head. “Get dressed. I have to show off my fiancée today.”
“Yes, Mr. Emerson.”
“If you stare at it any longer, you’ll go blind,” I said to her, but she didn’t pay attention to me. She just continued gazing at the 6.03-carat radiant cut diamond ring on her finger. From the moment we walked into the jewelry store, her eyes were glued to it and a fat ass grin was spread across her face. “And here I thought I was going to have to fight you on a ring.”
“I can tell you’re trying to be an ass, but I’m too awed by this beauty to care.” She smiled, lifting it to her face. It was hers.
“Girls and their rocks.” Rolling my eyes, I tried not to smile too, but she just kept grinning at me like a damn idiot.
“Stop it.” Shit, now I felt like a child.
“I can’t. It’s so pretty.”
“Oh my god.” I laughed.
“The great Maxwell Emerson laughing at me, I’m honored. Mr. Driver? Please be my witness of such a fate.” She sat up, all but grabbing on to the man’s seat.
Adjusting in the back seat, I tried to regain my composure. I’d honestly forgotten about the driver entirely.
“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded to her.
“Jane, Irene will come by the studio today to take you shopping.”
“Shopping?” She sat back, frowning. “You don’t like my clothes? I tried really hard today.”
I had noticed. She looked beautiful in a dark green high-waisted skirt complemented by one of my white shirts, which she had tailored to her size in minutes. She looked both elegant and sophisticated. The only problem was that it wasn’t designer. She looked good, but she didn’t look like an Emerson.
“Max?”
“I prefer you with no clothes.” Fucking hell Maxwell! She held her head up proudly. “What I mean is, I don
’t care what you have on. However, others will. The moment people find out about our engagement, your face will be out there. Think of it as your designer armor. The nicer you dress, the harder it is for them to attack you.”
“Fine, but if anyone puts anything with ruffles in my face…”
“You ask them elegantly to take it away,” I finished for her; she made a face.
“Am I going to be put through etiquette training, too?”
I didn’t want to discourage her, but I didn’t want to lie either, so it was best to say nothing at all.
“Max.”
“We’re here,” the driver said, and he met my eye in the mirror, giving me a short nod before stepping out.
“This isn’t over,” Jane whispered to me when the door opened.
“Of course it isn’t,” I said, hoping she’d be too tired to ask again after Irene got through with her.
“What’s your name?” I asked my driver.
“Calvin, sir, Calvin Roberts.”
“You’ll be her personal driver,” I said to him. “Anything she needs, wherever she needs to go, you take her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Nice to meet you!” Jane waved at him before I took her hand. The moment we walked into the building, I noticed the stares. People paused in utter shock, which proved how widespread the gay rumor had gotten.
I thought Jane would be uncomfortable, but she just held on to me, walking on as if she didn’t notice. I placed my hand on the small of her back when we got to the elevators.
“You’re popular,” she leaned over and whispered.
“Not for the reasons I want.”
The doors opened and before we could step in, Scarlet tried to step out. She jumped back, startled.
“Are you all right Scarlet?” I asked when she didn’t move; she didn’t even seem to be breathing.
“Yeah, sorry. I was told your car was here and I was coming down to meet you.”
I nodded, allowing Jane to get in first. “Scarlet, you remember Jane.”
“It’s burned into my memory.” She smiled, reaching out to shake Jane’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you again.”
“Likewise.” I watched as Jane purposefully used her ring finger to brush back her hair before shaking her hand. Like a hawk, Scarlet’s eyes locked on and did not stop staring. Jane, being the ruthless woman she was, just grinned and stuck out her hand. “Isn’t beautiful? Max has been teasing me all morning because I won’t look away from it.”
Scarlet held on to Jane’s outstretched hand then looked at me. “You’re engaged?”
“What I am is a million dollars lighter,” I replied. Jane smacked my chest.
“It was not a million dollars.”
“Close enough.” I laughed as I saw her jaw drop. I hadn’t let her see the price. “Yes, Scarlet, I’m engaged.”
She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped and froze. It took her a few more seconds before she got any words out. “Congrats. Must run now. I have to stop at accounts, but really, congrats. We’ll all have to celebrate later.”
“Sure.” I nodded when she pushed the button for the next level up.
“That wasn’t the accountants’ floor was it?” Jane asked when the elevator doors closed again and she was gone.
“No, it was not.”
“I’m not being too bitchy, am I?”
“Since when is claiming your partner being bitchy?” I questioned her and she turned to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. My hands dropped to her hips. “There are many more women like Scarlet, Jane; you have to sharpen your heels.”
She laughed. “The things I do for you, Mr. Emerson.”
“Just keep looking at the ring,” I replied as my hands slipped down to squeeze her ass. I leaned in to kiss her, but she just put her hand between us again, staring at the damn rock.
“It is pretty.” She winked, knowing full well she was messing with me.
“Don’t get too cocky, Ms. Chapman.”
“How can I not be cocky when you keep ramming your cock into my ass?” she whispered in my ear when we got to my floor.
I bit the inside of my check to keep calm.
“Is this where you work?” she asked while moving up to stare down at the pit as if she’d not just tried to make me hard.
“No, this is for the minions,” I said softly and she giggled.
“Come on.” I took her hand. “I wish I could give you a tour—”
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Go—”
“Tell the news?” I finished for her as she drifted off.
“I was trying to think of something cooler than that, like be the beacon of truth in a sea of darkness.”
I stared at her. I was trying so hard not to laugh my eyes hurt.
“No good?”
“It’s something…” Turning to the pit, I pointed to one of them, calling out the least boring looking person I could find.
“Yes, sir.”
“This is my fiancée, Jane. Show her around will you?” I asked, even though I knew she wouldn’t turn me down.
“Sure, sir.”
Nodding, I moved over to kiss Jane on the cheek. “Irene will be here soon.”
“I’m fine, Max, go.”
“A beacon, I got it.”
She was such a weirdo, but it was cute.
Chef Névenoé shrugged. “It’s all right.”
“It’s fucking brilliant and it’s killing you, isn’t it?” I smirked.
“When did you get to be so cocky?”
“The moment they gave me an apron and called me ‘Chef’,” I replied, and a few of the cameramen around us laughed.
“You got me.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Il est magnifique, Chef Wesley.”
I nodded in thanks before sitting down across from him. “From you, that means a lot.”
“When I first saw you looking like a drowned rat outside Chef Dieudonné’s restaurant, I did not see you rising as far as you have. I tell my students I’ve known you since you were a kitten in the culinary world, and they think ‘Look, this old man is exaggerating.’”
“I bet you regret not taking me into your kitchen now,” I replied, ignoring the camera zooming in on my face.
He shook his head. “Not at all. You’d be the first to ask me if Chef Dieudonné would have done it this way or add this or what he would have done for that. I too wished to grow. I left Chef Dieudonné’s kitchen and started my own as all good chefs do. I remember the fear I had. What of you? Your first restaurant in Paris, La Hauteur, is still one of the finest in the city.”
“Thank you. Honestly, when I opened it, I was terrified. I had so many people tell me I was too young. I was too cocky. I was too ‘something’. Some of the greatest critics in the world lived in the same forty-five mile radius. I’ll never forget Gabriel Gaétan, my first critic after opening. ‘La Hauteur, parfaitement fade et oubliable.’ La Hauteur, perfectly bland and forgettable.”
He laughed softly at me. “Did you weep?”
“Weep? Ha! I made a special menu, and it took me weeks to create it. I even called it ‘The Gaétan’ in his honor. He’s quite proud. Even to this day, he comes in and demands ‘The Gaétan’, but it did tempt other critics to write poor reviews, though.”
“You are a double-edged sword upon yourself,” he said, and I just shrugged.
“If stabbing oneself is the way to a perfect dish, stab on,” I said.
“La Hauteur is still open and beloved. You have another restaurant in your home country and in Rome. How do you manage them all?”
“Technology is a beautiful thing. Once a week, I converse with all my chefs. We go over the menus and I get updates. To keep them on their feet, I even send critics to scare the hell out of them. I also visit throughout the year, but in disguise.”
“You are a reality show in the making.”
“God, no.” Reality would be one half pornography and one half the cooking networks. “I prefer to keep my person
al life just that…personal.”
“So you do not have a special muse for your food?” he asked anyway. “I read a critic of yours who said only a man who’s in love can cook as you do.”
“I’m in love with food…and some may argue with me.” That got a few snickers from my own kitchen staff.
“So if there is no one keeping you here, what next? You’ve been in Boston four years now; Where do you see yourself going next? After all, the world of food is vast. India, Thailand, Africa, South America maybe?”
“I haven’t thought about it yet. I’m really enjoying Boston.”
“My advice, Chef Wesley, is while you’re still young…explore more. See more and your food will thank you for it.”
I hated how part of me was thrilled by the idea. Just packing up with my knives and going out there again…but the more I thought about it, the less possible it became.
Max.
Now Jane.
It wasn’t just me any more. I couldn’t just leave…I knew that, but it didn’t make the feeling go away.
“You’re excited by the thought, aren’t you?”
“For now, Boston is my home. But who knows what the future holds?”
Chapter Fifteen
Oh my god! I screamed and jumped back, wrapping my arms around my chest as Irene burst into the changing room. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m catching you when your guard is down. Jesus Christ!” Her eyes dropped down to the hickeys that were all over my chest. “Is my cousin trying to screw you or eat you alive?”
“Irene! Get out!”
“Calm down! We’re both women. Besides, I’ve already seen the evidence,” she said, waving her hand over my body.
“Just because we’re women doesn’t mean I want you staring at me naked.” I glared at her, waiting for her to leave. Instead, she just sat down on the small changing room bench and crossed her legs.
“Jane. Please explain to me how you were my maid one day and my cousin’s fiancée the next.” she asked.
“Can I get dressed first?”
She handed me my bra. Dropping my arms, I snatched it from her. She tilted her head to the side, still staring wide-eyed.