The Bed You Make
Chapter 41, continued

They had just completed a tour of the state-of-the-art kitchen and immaculate storerooms. The chef had paused once to bitingly correct an aboyeur's presentation of one his signature dishes before it was taken to the customer and then again to scoop a forkful of freshly braised lamb from an earthen pot near the stove for Dara to sample. “You've created a beautiful restaurant,” Dara complimented Philip Gottorp. He was nothing like she expected. The chef was shockingly blond with glacial blue eyes that peered out from beneath expertly trimmed eyebrows that were stylish yet masculine. “Stefan tells me that you have always had a pretty clear vision of what you wanted this place to look like.”

“Thank you, yes. Once it became clear that the culinary arts would be my calling, I visualized what Xanthe would be like.” Philip cocked his head to one side. “You're smiling,” he prompted.

Dara laughed ruefully. “I'm sorry. It's just it that was such a Cassadine thing to do, give your restaurant a name before you even knew whether you would be allowed to learn the craft.”

“Things operate a bit differently for our family.”

“I've always known that,” Dara replied carefully. She understood the chef's double meaning. “But now I'm getting the opportunity to see firsthand just how different things are.”

“Trust your instincts,” the chef urged. He glanced over to his left; Stefan was engaged in a discussion with the restaurant's saucier. "And learn which of the family you can rely on. Do that part pretty quickly."

“Are there many people who fall under that category?” Dara asked. “People that I can rely on?”

“A few. There are those of the family who will support Stefan's efforts because he has proven to be financially advantageous. Others will support him because the alternative is too dangerous,” Philip explained. “Still others – like me – support Stefan because we believe he is the correct choice for the family.”

Dara considered the chef's words. “So… discard the first two groups and take my chances with the third?”

“Take your chances with Stefan,” Philip replied bluntly. “You have already earned more of my cousin's trust and respect than any woman I can recall. He chose you to help him ensure Nikolas' future. That was no small gesture. Don't worry,” the chef laughed softly, “I'm not fishing for an admission about your marriage.”

“You don't believe I married your cousin for love?”

Philip replied honestly, “No. But it doesn't matter why you married Stefan. You are Mrs. Stefan Cassadine. I will support you and defend your place as his wife because that is what he asks of me… And because I think my cousin has chosen more wisely than even he realizes.”

“Protect your heart, new cousin Dara. You are leading Stefan into uncharted waters. Do not surrender until he does.”

Any denial or response Dara prepared to make was prevented by a furious shake of Philip's blond mane. “Don't say anything to me on that subject that you would not say to my cousin. Before the evening is over he will ask me to repeat our conversation. And I will, leaving nothing out.”

“I wouldn't expect anything else." The words were said without malice. "In spite of himself," Dara admitted, "I am glad he has you and Nikolas in his corner."

continued