“Do not dramatize.”
“I am being extremely restrained.”
“I need the meeting arranged properly,” I say.
“Formal contact. No pressure. No implication. No favor.”
Claire’s tone turns cold and professional, which is why I called her.
“I will contact Diana Marsh’s office and request a conversation regarding disclosure and boundaries. You will not call Serena directly. You will not send a message. You will not improvise.”
“I understand,” I say.
“I doubt that,” Claire says.
“But I appreciate the sound of the words.”
The call ends after she promises nothing except competence. I place the phone on the desk. Julien appears in the doorway two seconds later.
“Chef.”
“Do not.”
He leans one shoulder against the frame.
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You’re standing there in the shape of a comment.”
Julien’s mouth curves.
“Claire called me before you put the phone down.”
“Of course she did.”
“She said I’m to prevent you from doing anything else.”
“That’s not your job.”
“It is today.”
I look at him. “Julien.”
He lifts both hands and steps back.
“I’ll be insufferable later.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
He leaves me with the phone on the desk and the morning light spreading across the office floor. I’ve never called a critic. Not once. Not to manage, not to complain, not to prepare. I am calling because she sat in my dining room and tasted what I made, and she went still. I need to be in a room with her where neither of us is pretending we do not know what the other one is. That is the honest version.
I turn toward the kitchen. Julien is going to be insufferable about this. He usually can be. But I think about her face when the tarragon landed.
It was worth it.
Chapter Fifteen
Serena
