a restaurant. I believe this could be a huge opportunity for you.”
Billy paused and tilted his head to the side. “In the meantime, while you’re thinking the invitation over, would you also consider something else?” He chuckled, the sound self-deprecating. “I know we just met, and I’m already throwing a lot at you. But we’re compiling an advisory board for the festival, and we’re seeking the best creative minds in Texas. I’ve heard you’re one of them, and it’d be an honor and asset to have you take part in it.”
He’d heard she was creative—where? When? Ross had been under the impression that the other man hadn’t known of Charlotte until five minutes before he’d asked to meet the chef after raving over their meal. Which, Ross grudgingly had to admit, had been exquisite. But then again, he expected nothing less from a woman who placed her career over everything else. She hadn’t even cared that she’d left her parents behind.
Or me.
He locked that irritating and insidious thought down. Because that was in the past. His pride had been hurt. But as his reputation had proven, he was over it—over her.
Besides, he’d never give one woman that much sway over him again.
For the first time, unease crept across Charlotte’s features, and he damn near felt the tension emanating off her. Say no, he silently ordered her.
“I don’t—”
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry for interrupting.” The server who’d escorted Charlotte to their table appeared, shooting an apologetic glance at Ross and Billy before addressing Charlotte. “Chef, your babysitter called. There’s an emergency with Ben. He’s running a fever, and she needs to know if she should take him to urgent care. Also—” her voice dropped but not low enough that Ross couldn’t catch her next words “—she said he’s crying for you.”
Charlotte recoiled as if the words had been physical blows, her shoulders actually curling in before she jerked them back. Maybe remembering she had an audience. Because when she turned back to him and Billy, she’d carefully composed her features into a smooth mask.
If only he had the same superpower.
A baby? Charlotte had a baby? Shock, bone-deep, chilling and sickening, swam through him, burrowing to the dark soul that he’d believed too jaded to be stunned by anything.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a calm tone that belied the worry gleaming in her coffee-colored eyes. Worry and...something else. And that something else had the hair on the nape of his neck prickling, standing at soldier-straight attention. If it had been anyone else, he’d have called that quicksilver emotion in her gaze fear. But he had to be mistaken. Sure, there wasn’t any love lost between them, but why in the hell would she be afraid of him? His stomach twisted, clenched. “I need to go, but I’ll place your dessert order. I hope the rest of your evening here at Sheen is—”
“You have a son?” he rasped, only the second time he’d spoken to her since she’d arrived at the table.
Again, that flash of something-that-couldn’t-be-fear glinted in her eyes. And he wanted to erupt from his seat and demand she either stop looking at him like that or, better yet, explain why just glancing at him caused that reaction.
“Yes,” she abruptly answered. Then, nodding, she edged back a step. “Again, thank you for dining with us.”
With that, she whirled on her heel and quickly wound a path through the tables toward the rear of the restaurant. Ross stared after her retreating figure, frowning.
Don’t even think about going after her. Keep your ass in this chair.
He growled that at his conscience, at the muscles in his thighs that already bunched in preparation of launching him from his seat. This restaurant—and her son—were her business. Not his. She was no longer his concern and hadn’t been for three years.
“Did I overstep there?” Billy murmured, picking up his fork and flipping it between his fingers. It had been a nervous gesture of his since college—a small tell in an otherwise confident and self-possessed demeanor. “I should’ve checked with you first to ensure you were okay with me asking her to be a vendor and a member of the advisory board.”
“It’s fine,” Ross said, waving off his friend’s concern.
It wasn’t, though. But damn if he would explain to Billy why.
No one knew of his and Charlotte’s affair from years ago. They’d kept it secret for the obvious reason—him having sex with his employee had been inappropriate, at best. At worst, it was a power imbalance that