Free Hungry for More (2012) by Chelsea Scott, D. Oland, J. Welch

prep. The restaurant should be nice and quiet if you’d like to stop by.”
    “Oh, but I- aren’t you going to be busy?” Bridget said anxiously.  The thought of going to the restaurant instantly made her feel ill.  Not only might she be expected to eat , but also people who knew Paul would see her! 
    “I’m not too busy to cook lunch for the pair of you,” he said, casting a strange look in her direction.
    Bridget thought that he was probably remembering how she had laid in wait for him that morning to hound him into spending some time with his son. Now that he was offering his time of his own accord she was acting like a ninny.
    “Please can we go, Nanny?  Please?” Tad begged.  “I want to see where Daddy works.”
    Bridget couldn’t possibly refuse that plea.  “Of course we can go.  If it’s really okay with your dad . ” She glanced at Paul, almost praying that he would change his mind, although she felt guilty for her wish.  Tad looked so excited to get to spend more time with his father.
    “Of course it’s okay!”  Paul gave the cab driver the new directions and sat back in his seat until they reached the Chatterly. 
    Bridget’s stomach was in knots by the time they arrived, but Tad was practically bubbling over with excitement.
    “Is this your restaurant, Daddy?” he asked in awe, as Paul lifted him out of the cab.
    “Yeah…”
    Bridget thought she detected an odd inflection in Paul’s voice as he gave his answer, but then decided that she must have been imagining things. 
    “In we go then,” he said, paying the driver after collecting all his bags. 
    Paul took them in through the back entrance. For one horrifying moment Bridget thought they were going to have to walk straight through the busy kitchen, but to her relief the door opened onto an empty corridor.
    “Why don’t you go on ahead to the dining room?  It’s that way.  I’m just going to drop this stuff off in the kitchen and make sure the co -, bas- …er… guys in the kitchen haven’t f- …uhm…messed up anything I can’t fix.”
    Bridget giggled softly as Paul struggled to tone down his language.  Bless him.  He was trying.
    “All right. Come on, Tad,” she said, taking the little boy’s hand.
    “Can’t I go with you and see the kitchen, Daddy?” Tad asked desperately.
    Bridget was so sure that the answer would be no that she let herself relax.  Perhaps she had been silly to be so worried about coming to Paul’s restaurant?  If she and Tad came and left by the back door and ate in a deserted restaurant no one would see her after all. 
    However, after what appeared to be a monumental internal battle, Paul finally answered Tad’s question.
    “You can peek from the doorway if you clean your plate.”
    “Okay!” Tad nodded quickly.
    Bridget’s stomach churned again, even though peeking didn’t sound too traumatic. 
    She took Tad through to the luxurious dining area. The tables were covered in fine linen, but the place settings were missing.  Bridget let Tad select a table and sat down with him.  He eagerly chatted away about everything that he had seen that morning.  Bridget made a mental note to get him some books about fish. 
    “Pardon me, mademoiselle, but Chef Devoe asked me to set your table.”
    Bridget jumped in surprise when a stranger appeared at her side. “Oh? Oh! Thank you,” Bridget flushed with embarrassment and quickly removed her purse from the table.  “I can do that really, it’s no trouble-”
    “ Absolument pas !” the man replied in French, looking mortally offended.
    “What does that mean?” Tad asked curiously.  He was looking adorable and angelic. Bridget was glad to have the man’s attention diverted away from her.
    “It means I would not dream of a guest of the restaurant setting her own table,” he smiled.
    “Wow, it means all that?” Tad goggled.  “Do you work here like my daddy?”
    “I am the maitre’d .  I look after the customers who come