“Oh yes.” He reminded her, “When we ate french fries.” A midnight snack during a long weekend in Vancouver when he’d surprised her at a conference. It had been dreadful, but he’d buy stock in the red goo if it made her happy.
“Oh, right! French fries—” She looked back at the kitchen. “Do we have potatoes? I can make up some.”
It was too much for Philippe. He muttered an imprecation in French and pulled out several from a bin. Instead of giving them to her, he began to clean and peel them before chopping furiously.
Meredith bit her lip and looked away. For an instant, he thought the chef’s manner upset her, but then he caught the mischief in her eyes and he wanted to laugh all over again. She’d been tweaking the poor man. He’d have to give him a raise.
When she declared the burgers done, they settled in the dining room to eat—she’d conceded the kitchen back to Philippe. Meredith watched him take his first bite of the monstrosity she’d constructed by adding lettuce, tomatoes, onions and cheese and, though she’d decried the hard rolls Philippe sliced for buns, Sebastian actually liked them.
“Well?” she asked after a protracted silence while he chewed.
“It’s excellent.” He grinned. “Even more so because you made it for me.” It warmed him in a way he couldn’t quite express. She’d taken the time to fix him something for no other reason than she’d wanted to share her enjoyment.
She took a bite of her own and laughed around the size of the bite. Her rich brown eyes danced with merriment. “I still can’t believe you haven’t eaten fast food or burgers or something at some point. Didn’t you say Armand loved pizza?”
His brother’s love affair with the food had more to do with Anna, Sebastian suspected, but then he’d continued to eat it even in the years they’d been apart. Usually alone or with his friend Richard, always over beer. Another difference, Sebastian supposed.
“Bastian?” Meredith touched his arm, drawing his attention back to her and her question.
“Yes, Armand loves pizza.” He captured her hand and kissed it lightly before letting her go back to eating. “It was a habit he developed while away at school. He wanted an all-American, normal experience, so I think he ate quite a bit of the fast food you’re referring to.”
“But not you?”
“I didn’t attend an American university.” He shrugged. “I went to Cambridge and our father passed away during my first full semester. I had to leave school for a time, but then returned in the following autumn. With the change, it also heightened my security and notoriety. The days where Armand could disappear among the populace were long gone. Too many in the press wanted to know what we were doing, and who we were seeing. It made everything more difficult.”
Meredith sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“It was what it was. Interestingly, I didn’t fully grasp the burden Armand carried all those years. I was, for all intents and purposes, his heir. Still am. Thus, what was once his security burden became my own.” He refilled his wine glass then topped off hers. It amused him that she’d actually chosen one for the meal, but then again she did know his preferences.
“So, you weren’t as surrounded before your father passed?”
Pleased with her questions, with the fact she wanted to know, he couldn’t help the stirrings of old regrets. Regrets he’d long since thought he’d abandoned. “No, not at all. I had Vidal. He came to work for us just after my sixteenth birthday. I graduated from boarding school, and wanted to take a couple of years off to merely travel. So Vidal and I went backpacking across Europe. Well, sort of.” He grinned. “It was a good time. We traveled through small villages and towns. Avoided all of the larger metropolis’ and, though he insisted we drive rather than walk or ride motorcycles, it was just the two of us with the occasional downtime in a city for him to have some days off.”
“Which also explains why you two are so close.” Understanding kindled in her voice and, though he’d never considered it, he nodded.
“I suppose. It was only a few months. When I decided on Cambridge, I needed to study for the entrance exams and Vidal headed a detail of three. We occupied a building with several flats off campus. It made it easier for them to secure me. After my father passed, well, the detail became eight, which limited my options considerably. I was Armand’s heir and, as such, I had to be protected. It was my duty to allow it. Armand bore enough of a burden and a steep learning curve in taking over all of our family’s holdings.”
Pushing back her plate, she brought her knee up and rested her chin on it as she studied him. It made her look all of twelve, except for her eyes. Those eyes searched his and saw far too much. “You wanted to help him, which is why you studied business and diplomacy.”
He nodded once. “I changed my field of study, yes. Our father planned for Armand to come work for him after he finished his university experience. He would have learned the company and our holdings at our father’s side. His death changed everything. Armand was barely twenty-two and suddenly he was forced tomake a billion dollars’ worth of choices. The livelihood of, at the time, some thousand employees depended on his choices. Arguably more, if you consider all the companies we do business with. He needed someone he could talk to and I was the someone.”
Armand hadn’t liked the idea any more than Sebastian, but there were any number of nights his brother called as he’d weeded through one report or another and they’d hashed out the decision between them. If nothing else, Sebastian learned to understand the intricacies of negotiation. “His friend, Richard, was invaluable later, after he graduated law school. He went to work for us immediately. During the interim, I did what I could.”
She picked up her wine glass and swirled the red slowly. “What did you want to study? Before?”
It was his turn to shift uncomfortably. He focused on the burger, finding it very interesting. But the weight of her gaze pressed down upon him and, after two bites, he couldn’t avoid looking at her. “It isn’t important.”
“Now I really want to know.” She set her glass down and leaned forward. “What were you planning on studying?”
“Meredith, the burger is excellent and the fries as well.”
“Thank you. Philippe made those, and don’t try to change the subject.” She tapped her finger on the table. “You do realize your life is public record? I can go look up what you studied at school before?—”
“I sincerely doubt they have the information accessible.” Or at least he hoped they didn’t. He wiped his hands on a napkin and finished the glass of wine.
“Fine, I’ll pull strings.” Meredith grinned. “You may be connected internationally to all the royal bloodlines, but I’ve got academic pull.”
“You’re really not going to let this go.” He sighed and, in spite of his wish to the contrary, it warmed something in his chest that she wanted to know.
