The Billionaire’s Bun In Her Oven - Ellie Rowe Page 0,66

of my eye, it looks like he’s adjusting his pants. Is this really the time? I already miss the warmth of his body and wonder if I’ve done something wrong by calling her out. Well, too late now.

My eyes flick back to Nadia. She strips the buttons off one by one, maintaining eye contact and fuming. She struggles with the last button and curses before finally breaking free.

Slapping it down on the prep table, she takes one last look around the room, her eyes landing on me. Go ahead, I think, say something. Make my fucking day. But she doesn’t. Instead, she shoves hard past the execs and stomps out of my restaurant.

“Nadia… Nadia!” Rachna screams after her, and the two of them, followed by the execs all disappear from the kitchen.

I know I shouldn’t say anything, but I’m feeling too damned petty at the moment.

* * *

“And stay out!” I call after them when I hear the door slam. Then I look at the cameras. Um, what are we supposed to do now? My recipe will be ruined at this rate, and I’m not sure anyone’s attention span is ready to watch me whip up eggs and heavy cream after what just went down.

Instead, I offer a quick, sheepish smile before running off camera to talk to Paulie and Chase.

“I can’t believe you!” I say, hugging both of them.

“You know I love the accolades, but you’ll have to thank our handsome host... well, former host. God, that was hot, right?” he whispers and I pinch his arm. “Anyway, he’s the one you want. It was his brilliant idea.”

I turn to find Stephen. He’s leaning against the prep table, his muscular arms folded across his chest, watching me.

“Stephen —” I murmur, but the camera guys cut me off.

“Hey, boss, you want us to keep rolling… or?” Oh, right, there’s a live TV show going on. I look at Stephen, but he seems lost in thought.

Oh, shit, is he upset with me? Something I said or… oh God, maybe he’s already regretting denouncing his entire fucking empire for me?

“Yes,” I stammer. “I really can’t thank you enough, everyone, for tuning in these last few weeks. I’m sorry you never got to know the real me, but stop by the restaurant and I’ll be sure to remedy that. We’ll be signing off now —”

“Wait,” I look around, shocked to hear Stephen’s voice.

“What?”

“Keep rolling,” he tells the crew as he comes to me. “I’ve got one hell of an ending for you all.”

I swallow hard. What does that mean? A better ending than what just happened? Is he going to light my place on fire?

“What are you doing?” I whisper, and he takes my hand. I’m surprised to find he’s shaking a little. He takes a deep breath and raises his hand to cup my face. I melt into his palm.

“Over the past few weeks, I’ve watched you, Cynthia. I’ve watched you succeed and fail, and get up again. I’ve learned about your past and heard your dreams for the future. And I want to get there.”

I look at him like he’s gone completely insane. Is he asking me out? On TV? My stomach flips in excitement. He’s already proven himself to me, but he’s really going above and beyond.

“I don’t know whether it was your spirit, your ferocity, your determination or your damn good food. Probably everything, but…” he takes a deep breath. “I’ve fallen in love with you.” My eyes well up with tears, and I reach out to touch his face. He slips away, turning his down and away from me.

My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m so fucking confused?! What is he doing? Is this his idea of a big ending? Letting me emotionally implode? I need to put an end to this nonsense before I collapse into a puddle.

I open my mouth to say something when he takes a step away from me. I reach for him again, but he sinks down on one knee. On one knee?!

“Cynthia Easton,” he opens his hand and proffers a ring box, cracking it open with a satisfying ‘pop’. Oh, Christ, that rock is bigger than my mother’s. “Will you marry me?”

A sob escapes my throat and my hand flies to my mouth.

He raises his eyebrow and tries to catch my eye. I can’t speak. He freezes, his face full of concern. Oh, right! I have to answer! I nod furiously, still unable to form words.

“Is that a yes?” he chuckles