Staci heard Remy curse under his breath as he turned. The man who’d spoken looked vaguely familiar to Staci. He was about as tall as Remy and had salt and pepper-colored curly hair. His eyes were dark chocolate brown and he eyed them both intently. The woman at the man’s side was slightly taller than Staci and had reddish brown hair that was perfectly coifed. She wore a Lily Pulitzer sundress and looked altogether way more chic than Staci could ever hope to.
“Do you know them?” she asked under her breath.
“Yes,” he said. “They’re my parents.”
“Mom and Dad, this is Staci. Staci, this is my mom and dad.”
“Hello,” Staci said holding out her hand to the couple who each shook it in turn.
“I’m Alain,” his father said. “This is Betsy.”
“It’s so nice to meet you. Remy has told me a few things about you,” Staci said.
“That’s good to hear,” Alain remarked. “We know nothing of you.”
“I suspect that’s because we’re not supposed to make any calls home,” Staci said.
Remy seemed as if he wanted to run away. She gave him a what’s up look, which he ignored.
“Why ever not? Most boys who run away from their responsibilities aren’t forbade from calling home,” Betsy said. “Unless the world has changed.”
“What are you talking about?” Staci asked, dropping Remy’s hand. Clearly there was more going on here than she understood.
“That our son walked out of his job and has been missing for the last three months,” Alain explained. “Not a single word in that time.”
She faced Remy and demanded, “What are they talking about? I thought you lost your job.”
“Not exactly,” he said.
“Then what is the exact story?” she persisted. “Because the picture I’m getting is of a man who hasn’t been honest with me.”
“I’m sorry, my dear, but who did you say you were again?” Betsy asked.
“Staci Rowland, Mrs. Stephens. I’m a competitor on a cooking show that your son is also participating in.”
“Mrs. Who?”
Staci swallowed hard as the truth slowly sunk in. This wasn’t one lie but something much bigger. And this guy had some serious problems if he thought...what did he think?
“Isn’t that your last name? Remy has presented himself as an out of work cook from New Orleans...Remy Stephens.”
“He’s not out of work,” Alain said. “He was promoted to Chef Patron at Gastrophile and his last name is Cruzel.”
“Wait. Staci I—” Remy began.
“Too late!” Staci blurted. “Stay here and explain it all to your parents. I’m going back to the hotel. I’ll give you until tonight to inform the judges of your duplicity.”
“Staci!”
“No. I don’t want to hear any more of your carefully concocted stories. To you they might seem amusing, but to someone who had believed them, I can assure you they aren’t.”
Chapter Thirteen
REMYRANAFTERSTACI but she’d disappeared into the crowd and he couldn’t find her. He knew as soon as she’d turned ashen that all the joy of the day had been lost. He had tried to reach for her but Staci was small and quick and determined. Determined to put as much distance between her and him as she could.
His parents were right behind them; his dad put his hand on Remy’s shoulder. He didn’t want to have a conversation with them right now. Everything had come undone and in the worst possible way. He needed to sort the mess out in his head so he could do what he needed to in order to win Staci back. If that were even possible.
Without Staci cooking meant nothing to him. He was looking forward to returning to New Orleans with her by his side. Not by himself. Now that he’d found love he didn’t want to go back to his old life.
