Page 147 of Filthy Hot Billionaire
While I was being integrated into the business—at least on paper—I hadn’t had much opportunity to spend at Delta June’s. Still, I had requested Knox’s and Kieran’s assistance in helping me to hire an assistant of my own. Their assistants had kindly sent me lists of names with more details than I thought possible. Unfortunately, hunting for someone who would be my right hand in everything wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounded. And because of that, I’d had even less time to spend with Kieran or Knox. In fact, I’d only seen each of them one time since we got back from Vegas.
Needless to say, I was jonesing for my next fix. But at the same time, I was honing my patience, determined not to let myself get too attached to either of them.
Easier said than done. At least for me. I wasn’t sure the same could be said for either of them. What little I’d heard from them, I had been the one to instigate. I explained it away with the excuse that they were busy men, but I had wondered if that whirlwind ride we’d shared had been a prelude to getting me to agree to come on full time.
I tried to tell myself they wouldn’t do something like that, but the little devil whispering in my ear said otherwise. I knew they were capable because there was no way anyone became as successful as they were without getting their hands dirty. I was sure they’d done far more than merely have sex with someone to get them to lean their way.
The thought made my gut churn.
“Miss Emily, dinner is ready.”
I turned at the sound of Stewart’s voice, quirking an eyebrow. “We are not going to be formal; you know that, right?”
He smiled shyly. “Old habits.”
“What’s on the menu?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I love Guillermo’s surprises,” I told him.
“You and me both, sister.”
I laughed. That was what I wanted from Stewart. Despite earning a paycheck, I didn’t want him to feel as though he was an employee. The past week had proven how much I needed him. I wasn’t sure how he managed, but he kept the household running smoothly. Everything was taken care of as though it was magic: laundry, dishes, grocery-buying, basic cleaning chores. Not once had I seen anyone other than Stewart and Guillermo, but I knew they’d come through here more than once.
We started toward the kitchen, but Stewart went left instead of right, leading to the formal dining room.
“I don’t want to eat at a giant—” My words cut off when I saw Knox and Kieran sitting at the dining room table, both of them watching me as I stepped into the room.
Instantly, my heart swelled in my chest, and the anxiety that had built due to my thoughts of being used vanished.
“We had no choice but to invite ourselves,” Kieran said, standing as I moved toward him. “Waiting for you to do so became a tedious test we both failed miserably.”
Knox stood too, ever the perfect gentleman, and kindly waited until I was seated at the head of the table.
“This is way too formal,” I argued.
“We tried for the breakfast nook,” Kieran said, “but Guillermo kicked us out of his kitchen. Something about not wanting us to see his masterpiece before it was finished.”
I considered that for a moment. Guillermo had been extra secretive these past few days, refusing to let me know what he was working on. When I’d asked him about his decision regarding becoming the head chef at Delta June’s restaurant, he’d given me half a dozen excuses but never an affirmative answer.
Stewart poured me a glass of wine and refilled both of theirs before disappearing. I busied myself sipping the cold Moscato, feeling oddly uneasy about the way Kieran and Knox were staring at me. It was unnerving.
A few minutes later, I realized why they’d been so quiet.
Guillermo came into the room with Stewart at his side. Both were carrying trays heavy with dishes. They set each piece out. At least half a dozen choices of entrees, including seared scallops with a jalapeno vinaigrette, Cuban-style sea bass, along with steamed vegetables, grilled zucchini, a variety of salads, soups, and desserts, cluttered the tabletop.
“I talked him out of a five-course meal,” Stewart explained.
“This, my dear Emily, is what I’d have on the menu at Delta June’s, should you decide I am the wise choice as your chef.”
I stared up at him, tears filling my eyes. They were happy tears. He was accepting my offer?
“None of that, young lady,” he said sternly, waving a dismissive hand. “You must eat first. Then decide.”
“I’ve already decided,” I blurted.
He shook his head. “Not until you’ve approved my menu. Once you eat, you decide.”
