Page 44 of My Best French Wedding

“It’s cake,” Walter reminded her. “Not a Ming vase.”

“You see what I’m dealing with?” Hildy stage-whispered.

Stellan smiled in understanding. “Please. Allow me.” He sliced off a bite of cake with the side of the fork before holding it out to Hildy.

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you!” She leaned over the counter, mouth open. As her lips closed around the fork, her eyes drifted shut.

Walter aggressively cleared his throat when the chef’s gaze strayed to the neckline of Hildy’s blouse.

“I think I just died and came back to life. You’re not just an artist,” a wide-eyed Hildy told Stellan. “You’re a wizard.”

The chef inclined his head, accepting this as his due.

“Now I’m even more curious.” She lowered her voice like she was about to confess her deepest secret. “What kind of cake would you make for us?”

“For you, the richest dark chocolate with a hint of spice,” he told Hildy. “And for him, something astringent and dry.”

“Like arsenic?” Hildy pressed her hands to Walter’s cheeks, squeezing his face into a pout. “Kidding! Though I have always wanted to try the hot young widow aesthetic.” She took the fork from Stellan, helping herself to another bite without offering any to Walter.

The chef brought out more cakes for Hildy to taste, followed by an array of ganaches and glazes. From his preening, you would have thought he was a panther dragging carcasses back to his lair to impress a mate, instead of a guy whose main weapon was a stand mixer.

“Do you think you’ll make your own cake?” Hildy asked, setting down her fork. “When you get married.”

“Who can say? Alone, I am only half the flavors.” Stellan cast a pained look at the window, showing off his profile.

“Have you ever been tempted? By marriage, I mean?”

Even Walter couldn’t tell whether Hildy’s question was part of the interview or driven by personal interest.

“I have yet to meet the right woman. Or when I do, it’s too late.” His gaze flicked to Hildy.

Subtle, Walter thought.

“You never know,” she said, consolingly. “Life is full of twists and turns.”

“I hope so,” Stellan agreed. He jotted something on a slip of paper, sliding it across the counter. “Give me a call if you have more questions… or want to try something new. I make a very good breakfast,” he added, in case anyone had missed the insinuation slithering through the room.

“Thank you.” She tucked his number into her purse.

“You have something, just there,” the chef said, not quite touching her face. “May I?”

She lifted her chin, and Stellan gently dabbed at the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

“Caramel,” he reported, after licking his finger.

“I think we’re done here.” Walter grabbed Hildy by the elbow. “Thank you for a fascinating morning.”

“Until next time,” Hildy called over her shoulder, allowing Walter to herd her to the door.

“What the hell was that?” he asked when they were outside.

“Which part? When I saved your cratering interview?”

“Yes, I’m sure you had my best interests at heart.” Although it was true that he’d gotten more out of StellanwithHildy than without her. “I’m not sure I want to give the guy more publicity.”

“Go ahead and walk away. I’ll be happy to take over.”

“I bet he’d love that.”