Finally, everything they’d been saying for the last half hour made sense. Well, not sense, but he understood their meanderings. And of course they had been talking about Gigi. He wasn’t an idiot. Gorgeous. Genius. Were these elderly men really giving him relationship advice in the guise of a supportive pep talk? Saint Medard, give him strength.
Banging his head against the bar top until he knocked himself out was once more looking like the best way to avoid any more of this hell.
Damn it. He couldn’t even leave, he had to stay within fifty feet of Gigi, currently obliviously working away upstairs. And he couldn’t excuse himself and hide in the kitchen. His new chef was feeling a little insecure at the moment and got nervous every time Nico entered his domain.
No, he was stuck tending bar. Listening to this flock of gentleman give advice and encouragement intended for a lovesick suitor. A label that he had stupidly pinned on himself.
Why?
It wasn’t because Benedict DeWitt’s uniform or accompanying scowl had been intimidating. Or that Cam McKenzie’s constant look of loathing directed his way was finally beginning to get to him.
Where the four McKenzie brothers got off thinking he was some dastardly lothario, Nico would never know. Not only was their kid sister, Riordan, an employee, but she was barely twenty-one. Nico respected and liked her, and more importantly, so did his customers. She was friendly, on time and diligent. Which meant putting up with her constantly lurking brothers.
But there was just something about the way Cam’s hand had been resting upon his holstered gun as the two men confronted him on the sundeck three days ago. Something that rubbed Nico the wrong way. And before he knew it he was opening his mouth, declaring his intentions were entirely honourable when it came to Gigi. And watching their expressions freeze with a mix of surprise and peevish suspicion. Hah, didn’t see that one coming, did they?
Watching them stomp off had felt good. Although ten seconds later all the possible problems that he might have just createdfor himself began to rain metaphorically down like hailstones. Fucking Hell, had he always been this stupid, or was it the double whammy curses battering away at him that contributed to his sudden rashness?
From that moment on he swore he wouldn’t say anything about Gigi and their faux relationship. He would just shut up, hold her hand, and kiss her occasionally in public.
And there was nothing these elderly relatives of Gigi’s could tell him about her that he was the slightest bit interested in.
“Thought for sure that egghead from Switzerland would nab her.”
“Really? My money was on the billionaire who wanted to buy her recipes and go global with them. He was tall. And a good looking lad.”
“Maybe, but he wasn’t as tall as the one from the Think tank, who was trying to wine, dine, and convince her to come work with him.”
“Please, no one was better looking than that astronaut NASA sent. You know, the one with all the hair, muscles and degrees.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
Say what now? The lure of the countertop was forgotten as Nico tried to process what his circle of aged supporters had just let drop. “Ah, these men, they’re all Gigi’s former boyfriends?”
“Is boyfriends the right term?”
“Manfriends?”
“Bollocks to political correctness, I’m not ever saying that word.”
“Let’s just stick to boyfriends then, and yes, to answer your question, they were all at one time romantically linked with Gigi.”
“A scientist. A billionaire. A Think tank genius. And an astronaut?”
Cain Bright clicked his fingers. “Oh, we’re forgetting that French one…”
“Oh, yes, the Michelin star chef. His crepes were really good. And they had so much in common. I never got why she broke up with him.”
“I never understood why she broke up with any of them.” Cain murmured. “But I’m sure you’ll break the streak, Nico. We have faith in you. Don’t we, lads?”
“Aye.” Times four. Glasses chinking.
“Remember. The greater the challenge, the more worthy the prize.”
