Me? Chef Monroe? A large percentage of the population?
"You're going to do this on the night of his birthday?" I ask because I can't think of anything else to say. My mind is preoccupied with the internal debate that's raging inside me. Do I jump onboard this crazy train that is doomed to crash by agreeing to take part in this party or do I warn Tyler so unflattering pictures of him screaming at the top of his lungs out of fear don't inundate social media next Thursday morning?
"That's too obvious." Maribel rolls her eyes. "We're doing it on Tuesday night because he won't suspect a thing."
I give her credit for thinking an inch outside the box. If I was in charge of this party, I'd have it this week so he'd never suspect. No… truthfully, I'd cancel it. I know, for a fact, that Tyler is planning on seeing his sister and her family next Tuesday. He told me that last night when I asked how his niece, Emerson, is. He said she's doing great and that he'll be hanging out with her on Tuesday night when his mom arrives in New York from Boston.
"I think he has plans on Tuesday," I say innocently. "He'll be with his family."
Her lips curve wryly. "He thinks he's having dinner with his family. I talked to his mom. She's helping me plan the party."
"That's great," I mutter.
"I'll text you the details once we firm up all the plans but you've got to promise not to spill the beans, Den."
Suddenly, the fact that she calls me by the same nickname that Sophia does, irks me. I know Mirabel means well but I feel slighted. I know it's unwarranted. I haven't met Tyler's mom yet. I spoke to his sister once. If they think a surprise party is the way to go, I need to fall in step with them.
"I won't say a thing, Maribel." I sigh. "You tell me where to be and when to show up."
"Will do." She touches her index finger to her lips. "We're going to give Chef a birthday he'll never forget."
***
"I think he'll love the gift. I don't even know him and I love it."
"Really?" I look across the table at Sophia. "I'm worried about it. It's only been a few weeks since the fire. You don't think it's too soon?"
Her gaze drops to the frame in front of her. "He's moving forward, Den. He's got you to help him with that. This is just a reminder of what he worked so hard for."
They're typical Sophia words meant to ease my anxiety but they don't even take the edge off. When I was thinking about a birthday gift for Tyler, I considered a dozen different things.
I finally settled on a collage of pictures that I'd taken with my phone during my time at Nova. There's one of Tyler on the set of the morning show, another of him standing next to Darrell discussing the week's menu. My favorite is an image of him staring down at his tablet, his hand cupping his chin. He looks intense, focused and sexy as hell.
After I had prints made of all the photographs, I took them to a framing shop and let them work their magic. The result is a tasteful representation of Tyler during his time at Nova. I bought another identical frame so that next year on his birthday, I can gift him with a collection of images I'll take at Nova's new location. That is, if we're still together, and if I'm still working for him and if he doesn't fire the lot of us after the surprise party.
"Wait until you see the dress I'm making you for Tyler's party." Sophia lets out a sigh. "It's so hot."
"How hot?" I cock a brow.
"It's a 'he won't be able to keep his hands off of you' hot dress."
"Show it to me." I skim my fingers over the edge of the frame, feeling a small sense of relief that Sophia understood the meaning of the gift. If she gets it, Tyler will too.
"No way." She shakes her head. "I'm sewing it tonight. You can try it on this weekend. That still gives me plenty of time to do the alterations before Tuesday."
My bottom lip juts out into a pout. "That's not fair. Can you at least tell me the color so I know what shoes I'll be wearing?"
"Nope." She picks up a bag of potato chips from the table and rips them open. "It's a surprise for the surprise party."
"You know I hate surprises, Soph." I motion for her to tilt the bag toward me. I reach in to grab a chip before I pop it in my mouth.
"You'll love this one. Trust me. I promise that Tyler Monroe won't be able to take his eyes off of you when he sees you next Tuesday night."
CHAPTER 16
I walk into what will soon be the bustling dining room of Nova. The walls have been painted a pale shade of grey. The light hardwood floors are partially installed and the sublime lighting fixtures are all in place.
It's definitely different than old Nova in both design and size. I haven't heard the exact number of seats for dinner service, but I can tell that it's at least thirty percent more than our old location.