And now what am I doing? Obsessing, perhaps. Damn it. Where are you, Shalimar?
We made it to Shalimar’s in no time.
And tonight was like no other. The place was packed for the first time since it opened. People actually lined the block outside.
I beamed. “There you go. Not everyone is such a snob like you.”
Giorgio waved my comment away. “I’m sure Gwen changed the menu.”
“She better not have. The menu must remain the same. Now more than ever.”
Shalimar is in Paris. She might finally come to the restaurant.
I’d told her about it many times. I’d even sent pictures and footage of the grand opening. Shalimar had never replied.
We passed the crowd and entered the place.
On the walls, Pink dragons wound around bright blue Eiffel towers, merging my Chinese-French theme.
Giorgio frowned at the dragons. As he always did, he walked as far away from the walls as possible, as if for him to touch them would injure his very being.
“Must you be so dramatic?”
He patted down the front of his jacket as if dust or paint had gotten on it. “The decor is ungodly.”
Before we made it to my main table, I paused for a moment. My nostrils flared as I smelled the atmosphere. The scents were different than usual. More French than Chinese. More familiar. Fragrances from my childhood. The smell alone probably lured people in here.
And the crowd was eclectic. They heightened the senses around the scene. Made it more young, vibrant, and electric.
I growled on the inside.
While the chef had gone to great lengths to fill the place up, I hadn’t asked her to make any changes.
I sat down. “She definitely changed the menu.”
“Thank God. Someone had to save this restaurant for you.”
“I’m going to fire her.”
“You better not.” He frowned. “I kind of told her to change the menu anyway. I was close to not coming in here again.”
I groaned.
Everyone picked at Giorgio for his weird habit of cleaning everything. Many called him the Butler behind his back. I did it to his face the few times he annoyed me, but even I didn’t joke too hard.
Giorgio was a beast with a knife.
That being said, when people wanted an opinion on food and fashion they went to Giorgio. If he stopped eating at Shalimar’s, the rest of the guys wouldn’t even make the effort to come.
Not that it mattered. I only want Shalimar to be here.
My phone vibrated in my pants. I pulled it out and opened. “Yes?”
Louis’s voice hit the line. “We found Shalimar.”
I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice. “Where?”
“Outside of your restaurant.”
“What?” My body tensed. “I’m here.”
“I know. She watched you walk in.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Where is she now?”
“Walking inside to you.”
“Hells yes.” I hung up, checked over my shoulder again, and froze.
There Shalimar stood.
She had an athletic look. Slim build, but curvy with muscular thighs. A firm, compact figure with exotic eyes that had fire blazing inside of them. And her face held an exotic air. It was nothing commonplace, boasting a passionate mouth that hid a tongue that loved challenging men.
Tonight, she wore the feminine version of a black suit with a gray striped tie. Very expensive and perfectly tailored. But the suit didn’t hide the curves of her breasts or the wideness of her hips.
She walked over to our table.
Shocked, Giorgio rose and gave her the seat. “It’s nice to see you again, Shalimar.”
“You too.” She smiled and sat down. “Always a gentleman, Giorgio.”
“I try.” He gestured at the back. “I’ll give Gwen my special order.”
I called after him. “Give the chef your special order and nothing more than that.”
Giorgio rolled his eyes at me and headed to the kitchen, maneuvering around people standing and probably waiting for a table.
I directed my view back to Shalimar. “Hello.”
“Why did you put your men by my Airbnb? They’re all over the place, not even trying to hide it.”
If only we knew which house that was, I could simplify the response.
I leaned my head to the side. “Do you like the restaurant?”
“Keep your men away from me.”
Damn the chef for changing it up tonight. I wanted Shalimar to see it in its entirety.
I continued, “The food is not the usual, but—”
“Did Eden tell Jean-Pierre that I contacted her?”
“I had her phone monitored.”
“Jean-Pierre wouldn’t monitor her phone anymore.”
“How do you know?”
She glared at me. “Will he even let her meet me tomorrow or were you supposed to come?”
“She’ll be there.”
“But with an army of Corsican.”
“We’re a lovable bunch. Why wouldn’t you want an army of us?”
“The meeting is off.” She dug into her pocketbook and took out a box. “I only was supposed to give Eden this anyway. It’s from Celina.”
“What is it?” I grabbed the box and opened it.
A silver necklace lay inside. A violin dangled from the center, extending around three inches long. It was carved in silver, but the strings were gold and the pegs were diamonds.