If you marry. Alice resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose. “Daddy adores you,” she said, though she doubted it was true. “He’s probably missing you.”

Mama said nothing in response. Instead, she went to the door. “I’ll have Chef Franconi send dinner up to my room. Seeing as how you’re not feeling well, you’ll eat some broth and go straight to bed.”

“Of course.”

When the door closed behind her mother, Alice exhaled in relief. It almost seemed too easy, but her mother had no reason to distrust her. Other than sneaking out at the house party and the occasional trip to Franconi’s kitchen, Alice had done everything her parents had ever asked of her. She was not a rebel or a troublemaker; she attended the parties and danced the dances. She smiled and nodded, kept her thoughts and wishes to herself and never complained.

So she had more than earned a few days in a supper club kitchen.

Hard to say what excited her more—time away from her mother, acting as a proper chef in a real kitchen, or spending three days with Kit.

Don’t be silly. You know the answer.

Yes, she did—and it terrified her. Because if she were willing to go to these lengths for such a short stint with him, what would she do to prolong it?

Kit was unpacking produce in the club’s small kitchen Wednesday morning when Preston walked in. His friend’s gaze swept the room. “Is she here yet?”

“No, not yet.” Kit slid a box of onions toward the other man. “Put that on the far counter, will you?”

Preston frowned but did as asked. “I didn’t come here to work. I came to watch you work.”

“Why?”

“Because I cannot believe you actually agreed to act as her sous chef.”

Neither could Kit, but he had a hard time refusing Alice anything. Furthermore, if he said no, she might get another man in here . . . and that was unacceptable. So he could suffer through a few hours of chopping and dicing at Alice’s side. “We want Friday night to succeed, don’t we?”

“Indeed, we do.” Preston popped a grape into his mouth. “Which is why you should be focused on other things instead of hiding out in this kitchen for the next three days.”

“I will do those things when she’s not here. The supper is the most important part of a supper club.”

Preston chuckled. “God, you are so transparent. And I literally never thought I’d see the day.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?”

“No, so if you’d spit it out and get on with your day, I’d appreciate it.”

“You and Miss Lusk.”

“Fuck, no,” Kit instantly said. “You are entirely wrong.”