“Because of us?” he asked.
“That’s part of it. The restaurant is nuts when I’m there, and my agent, Suki, has a half a dozen guest spots available to me.”
“You mean TV shows?”
“Yeah. They dangle some serious money and make it hard for me to pass.”
“What do you like better . . . the filming or the restaurant?”
“I like to cook, Luke. I can do that with both. The stress of the kitchen is starting to weigh on me. Felix suggested I open my own place to take my brand to the next level.”
“Your brand?”
“My name. Eventually every celebrity chef opens their own place.”
“Sounds stressful.”
She started talking numbers, the profit potential. She knew how much Nahana was bringing in because of her position. “I’m always trying to figure out how to stay on top so I won’t always have to work this hard.”
“It sounds like that’s what you’re doing.”
“I’m so wrapped up in it I haven’t even asked myself if I’m happy doing it.”
“And all this has something to do with looking at homes?”
She stifled a yawn. “I landed in Texas. It was never a place I thought I’d live. Felix and his team came to me, but I film in New York and Los Angeles all the time.”
“Are you thinking of moving?”
“To LA or New York?”
“Yeah.”
“Lord, no. They both have their qualities, but I wouldn’t want to live there.”
“I thought you liked living in Texas.”
“I do. I mean . . . I’ve grown used to it. I’m close to the airport, I have lots of opportunity here.”
Luke sighed. “By opportunity, do you mean chef positions to choose from?”
“Yeah.”
“You could get those anywhere.”
“I don’t know.”
Luke laughed. “Hon, you’re Zoe Fucking Brown. You can go anywhere and restaurants will fall over themselves to hire you.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “I don’t know about that.”
“Ha!”
“What?”
“I have a confession to make.”
This should be good. “I’m listening.”
“I’ve followed your career a little more than the next guy since you left River Bend.”
She forgot about how tired she was and sat up. “What do you mean by followed?”
“When Warring Chef hit the air and River Bend started weekly Zoe nights in front of the televisions all over town, I sat at home and watched on my own. I listened to the newscasts on the Food Network and had Google send me messages when your name popped up online or in the paper.”
“If I didn’t know you, I’d accuse you of stalking me.”
“Oh, I stalked you. I made myself a little crazy with it, even when I was doing my best to get over us. You know what I learned?”
“That stalking is a felony in several states?” she said, laughing.
“I learned that every time you pushed to another level, it proved you had to leave this town to get there. And as much as I missed you, I was proud that you were doing it.”
Zoe placed a hand to her chest. “Oh, Luke.”
“I mean it, Zoe. We were kids, and you needed to do this to find yourself. And if you’re sitting there at close to two in the morning questioning if you’re good enough to find a job in bumfuck anywhere . . . then you haven’t paid attention to just how big of a celebrity you really are.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are. You’re wicked talented. You’re stunning, and if you haven’t noticed, a lot of your counterparts look like crap on film . . . and you’re genuine.”
“I’m not—”
“You are! You have options, Zoe. Lots of options.”
She waited to speak. “You’re good for my ego, Miller.”
“You’re not exactly bad for mine, Brown. Now tell me what you’re wearing.”
He made her laugh. “Nothing sexy.”
“Then lie to me.”
For the next fifteen minutes, she did . . . about her attire, in any event. And when she crawled into bed, she decided to test Luke’s theory in the morning and see where it could lead.
Zoe met Felix at a taco shack that served amazing steak tacos and ice-cold beer. She decided to corner her friend outside of work to avoid anyone overhearing their conversation.
Felix wore dark sunglasses and a fedora. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to hide his face or stand out in a crowd. He certainly managed his share of stares before they found an empty table with a red and green shade umbrella that warded off the Dallas sun.
“Very incognito.” Zoe touched the brim of his hat as he sat down.
“You said you wanted to meet in private. I don’t get those invitations very often.” He lowered his sunglasses and winked before looking around. “Not from beautiful women, in any event.”
He twisted off the top of his beer and did the same for the one sitting in front of her before taking a drink. “So what’s so important it couldn’t wait until next week?”
The beer cooled her throat going down and helped her open up. “I was talking to Luke last night—”
“Mr. James Dean?”
She nodded.
“He’s hot!”
“Hands off,” she warned without heat in her words.
Felix once again lowered his glasses and studied her over the rims. “Looks like someone is getting a little somethin’, somethin’.”
Instead of confirming his suspicion, she offered a sly smile and continued, “Luke said something that I’m not sure is true.”
Felix pushed his glasses high on his nose and sat back. “I’m listening.”
“He said I could get a job anywhere if I wanted to.”
Felix sipped his beer. “Uh-huh . . . what else did he say?”
“Uhm, that’s it . . . that I was enough of a celebrity to get a job in bumfuck anywhere.”
This time when Felix unveiled his eyes, he set his glasses on the table and stared. “This is news to you?”
She blinked. “Well, I know I’m popular, that people go out of their way to visit the restaurant when I’m in the kitchen—”
“Zoe, darling . . .” He leaned forward. “If you wanted to relocate to France, Belgium, or Tallahassee, you’d have restaurants willing to redesign their kitchens to have you in them. Your name brings money to everything you touch. Hasn’t your bank account shown you that?”
She thought of her account, of the savings she’d been socking away since her first paycheck showed up after Warring Chef started to air. “It could all blow up tomorrow.”
“Who told you that?”
“I did, years ago. There are no guarantees.”
Felix reached over and touched her hand. “Do you know why you’re so popular in this world of foodies and networks dedicated to pasta soufflés?”
“Because I can cook.”
“No! Lots of people can cook. It means something to you. You’re down-to-earth and charming in front of that camera. Your story charmed the average American when Warring Chef hit the air and had plenty of them up in arms when you didn’t win.”
“Sebastian was better than me. He deserved to win.”