Julien finished off his drink and placed his glass down on the counter. “Thanks, Brian,” he said to one of the two bartenders.
“Would you like another, Mr. Thornton?”
“Non, but I’ll take a water. Merci.”
Once Julien had his drink in hand, he and Lise parted ways. She went out to check on the kitchen, and he finally headed toward his men. Julien wanted to keep all his faculties about him tonight. There were a lot of important people here to impress, and—
“Robert Antonio Bianchi!” The excited exclamation, and the sheer volume of it, interrupted Julien’s train of thought and had him—and the entire restaurant, really—turning in the direction it had come from.
There, standing just inside the entrance of JULIEN, was a beautiful woman in an elegant black dress with her hands held out in front of her as she made a beeline through several other guests toward her son, who—poor Robbie—looked as though he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“Robert, come and give your mother a kiss.”
Priest looked to be biting the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh as the tiny woman stopped in front of him and Robbie, stood on tiptoes, and cupped her son’s cheeks.
“It’s so good to see you, baby,” she said, and after she planted a smacking kiss on his lips, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and Robbie wound his around her waist.
“You too, Ma,” he said, and kissed her temple as Julien came up behind Robbie’s mother. Robbie caught Julien’s eye and mouthed, I’m sorry. But Julien grinned, loving this rare opportunity they were getting to see Robbie so…flustered.
“This place is just divine,” Robbie’s mother said as she released her hold on him, oblivious to the fact the owner now stood behind her. “To think we spent all those months on the phone watching and voting for Mr. Thornton, and now here we are, in his restaurant.”
“I know, Ma,” Robbie said, his cheeks turning the color of ripe tomatoes, and Priest apparently couldn’t hold back his amusement any longer.
“Well, hello there,” Robbie’s mother said to Priest. “I’m Sofia, this beautiful boy’s mother.”
When she patted Robbie’s cheek, he groaned. “Ma…”
“What? You are beautiful. Especially in this suit. I love the sparkles.”
Robbie grinned and gave a little shrug. “Me too. That’s why I picked it.”
“Of course it is.”
A low laugh escaped Priest as he stepped up beside Robbie and held his hand out. “Good evening. I’m Joel.”
Sofia raised a dainty hand and slipped it into Priest’s, and as he shook it, she gave him a thorough once-over. Julien could certainly see where Robbie got his sass from. “My, my, you’re very dashing in your suit tonight.”
When Robbie looked at Priest, Julien wasn’t sure he realized that his eyes were basically screaming that Priest was even better out of that suit.
“Thank you,” Priest said. “You look lovely this evening also.”
“Oh, stop it. You’re too kind,” she said with a laugh that was as delightful as she was. “And how do you know my son, Joel?”
As the corner of Priest’s lips curved in a relaxed kind of smile that meant trouble, Julien shook his head.
When Priest was like this, all charisma and charm, he was a force to be reckoned with. When he looked to Robbie—who just about melted at his feet—he said, “I met him when I worked on Vanessa’s case.”
Robbie’s mother frowned. “Vanessa? As in, our Vanessa?” Then her eyes grew wide. “You’re the lawyer who helped Vanessa? Priest?”
Priest, obviously sensing what Julien had, narrowed his eyes on Robbie, knowing that it was more than likely whatever Sofia knew of him from that time spent together was not flattering.
“God,” Robbie said. “Kill me now.”
“Oh no,” Priest said, and flashed a wolfish grin at Robbie. “You are not going to get out of this that easily.”
But before Priest could ask for more information, Robbie jumped in and distracted his mother in the most effective way possible.
“Ma, if you turn around,” he said with a radiant smile, “you’ll get to meet your favorite French chef.” And as she let out an excited gasp and twirled around to face him, Julien saw Robbie poke his tongue out at Priest, knowing that that crisis was averted…for now—rascal.
“Oh,” Sofia said, as she brought her hand to her chest and gazed at Julien. “Be still my beating heart. You are even more handsome in person than you are on the television.”
Julien held his hand out, and when she took it, he brought it to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. “Merci. Bonsoir, mademoiselle,” he said, laying the French on thick because a) Sofia was a longtime fan of the French chef she knew, and b) he knew it would drive Robbie absolutely crazy.
She giggled in a way that would rival any schoolgirl, and when Julien looked past her to Robbie, he winked.