The Prince's Secret Baby (A Baby for the Prince Book 1)(8)
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t think a party in a house like this could ever serve bad food.”
He laughed. “You’d be surprised.”
“What’s the worst food you’ve ever had at a party?” Maggie asked, curious.
Raffaele thought for a moment.
“About two years ago, I attended an after-party for a big movie premiere. The studio hosted it, and they must have been worried that the movie wasn’t going to make any money because the food was terrible. It tasted like they’d simply picked up a bunch of frozen appetizers and put them on trays.”
“Tell me they at least thawed them out first.”
Raffaele laughed. “I think a few of them might not have been.”
A tuxedo-clad man with an elaborate gold mask stopped Raffaele with a hand on his arm. “Raffaele, my boy. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
Raffaele shook the other man’s hand. “You know me, Marcus. Wouldn’t miss an opportunity for a grand party.”
“Of course. And who is your lovely date?” He turned to Maggie.
Maggie didn’t wait for Raffaele to introduce her this time, holding her hand out for the other man to shake.
“Maggie Bechet.” She added cheekily, “Of the New Orleans Bechets.”
She could see Raffaele biting his lip, trying not to laugh.
“Ms. Bechet is the head chef at BienVille. Are your parents in town?”
Marcus seemed surprised at the non-sequitur.
“They are, as a matter of fact.”
Raffaele nodded once firmly. “Good. Impress them by taking them to BienVille. You can show them you’ve grown out of those fast food restaurants you love so much.”
Marcus laughed. “They’d love that.” He turned to Maggie. “Please tell me you at least have a hamburger on your menu?”
Maggie shook her head. “But, for you, I’ll prepare something special.”
“Well, then, how can I resist a promise like that? Consider it done.” Marcus shook her hand again. “Chef Maggie Bechet, it was a pleasure.”
As he moved away, Maggie asked Raffaele softly, “Who was that?”
Raffaele answered, “A cousin. I think.”
Maggie laughed. “You don’t know?”
Raffaele shrugged. “Royal family trees can get pretty tangled. He’s a second cousin three times removed, or something like that. We spent a lot of time together as kids, but don’t get to see much of each other as adults.”
Before they walked three more steps they were stopped again when a stunning woman with flame-red hair grasped Raffaele’s arm.
“Raffaele, it’s so good to see you.”
Raffaele kissed both her cheeks. “And you. Let me introduce you to Maggie Bechet, New Orleans’ premier chef. Maggie, this is Alexa Rondeau.”
Alexa shook Maggie’s hand. “What’s the name of your restaurant?”
“BienVille.”
Alexa nodded. “I’ve heard good things. My husband is something of a foodie—I’ll have to take him there soon.”
Maggie said sincerely, “We’d be happy to have you dine with us. Please let me know when you’re coming in; I’d love to stop by your table and say hello.”
As they moved away, Raffaele leaned towards her again. Maggie was so enthralled at the sensation of having his voice in her ear that she almost missed what he was saying.
“After tonight, you’re going to be the go-to place for every celebrity in New Orleans.”
Maggie leaned into his arm just a little.
“So, I really do get to count tonight as work. I just need to put it under our marketing budget.” She grinned and added, “I may have to pay you a commission for all the new business you’re sending my way.”
Raffaele laughed. “Just promise me that I get my favorite table whenever I’m in town.”
“Done.”
Maggie found herself hoping that the Prince made it back to New Orleans frequently. She’d keep his booth open all the time if it meant she might have the chance to see him again.
“You know, I feel like a princess in a fairy tale,” Maggie said softly and then grinned at Raffaele. “Though I’m pretty sure that makes you my fairy godmother instead of Prince Charming.”
Raffaele threw his head back and laughed.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret: we keep a fairy godmother on staff. You know, just in case.” He stood and held out a hand. “So, that definitely makes me Prince Charming. However, since this is a ball, I can’t be your Prince Charming unless you dance with me.”
Maggie shook her head. “Oh, no. I can’t dance.”
Raffaele gave her a questioning look.
“No, really,” she added. “I actually took ballroom dance in high school as my sports elective, and the one thing I learned is that I’ve got two left feet.”
“So, you know how to dance?”
“Technically, yes. But trust me, knowledge doesn’t translate into ability.”
Raffaele leaned down and took her hand. “Have I let you down yet?”
Maggie sighed and shook her head.
“I promise I won’t let you fall.”
Maggie decided there was no way she could resist a statement like that, so she took Raffaele’s hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor. The orchestra stuck up a waltz, and Raffaele whirled her around the ballroom. It was the first time she’d danced at an honest-to-goodness ball, and she had to admit, it was fun.