Chapter Thirty-Three

Kristen

I spend the following week thinking about my next move, mainly about Lola’s proposal. I also update my résumé and send it out because you never know what opportunities will present themselves.

Antoine and I spend as much time together as possible. It thrills me to pieces. Even though he hasn’t technically moved in, he might as well have. He even left a few changes of clothes and a toothbrush.

The only thing that mars my week is another bouquet of red roses that arrives from my so-called Number One Admirer, together with another typewritten note. He wants to meet. He apparently owns a yacht and wants us to sail up the coast together. Hahaha, maybe he’s going to tell me how stupid he thinks I am. I’m not naïve enough to agree to get on a boat with a stranger, especially one who keeps sending me flowers I don’t want. And it isn’t like he really owns a yacht. Most people don’t have that kind of money, much less someone who lives in his mother’s basement. I should make a mental note to mention it to Antoine.

Late Thursday morning, I get a text from Nick reminding me of the party. I haven’t forgotten. I just haven’t had a chance to bring it up with Antoine yet.

I don’t know why I’m hesitating. He isn’t going because he has something else to do, but there’s no reason for him to upset if I go to meet his family. I don’t think he’ll be cruel about it, like he was before with his mother when he talked about cutting off his man parts. He explained why he had to say that, and I accepted his reasons. I mean, if I had a mom as overbearing as his, I might have done the same thing…

Maybe.

I tap my fingers on the tabletop and text Antoine.

When are you coming by this Saturday?

Late. Maybe after six? But I’ll make it up to you.

I make a face. My brother’s overworking my boyfriend, and I don’t know why. Dominic always looks vaguely displeased when Liza has to work late. He should understand Antoine now has a girlfriend who needs her own TLC.

On the other hand, maybe it isn’t work. On Saturday, Antoine leaves my place in a T-shirt, black jeans and old Chucks. Definitely not a work outfit. And he doesn’t take his gun, either.

Huh.

I want to ask him where he’s going, but catch myself. I don’t want to seem clingy and controlling. I remember how much I hated that about my ex in college. It was one of the main reasons we broke up.

Although the party is outdoors, I put on a slightly impractical sleeveless blue wrap dress and wedge sandals. Antoine’s mom’s going to be there, and I want to make a good impression. I even spend half an hour doing my face, going for a natural beauty look, which I think I pull off.

I drive out to the Pryce grove. I’ve only heard about it from Liza and her brothers. Her half-brother Elliot said the house there has the best wine cellar. Apparently Liza’s uncle loves to drink. Knowing Liza’s capacity, I wonder how much you’d have to be able to guzzle down to actually be known in that family as a man who loves to drink.

The grove is as magnificent as the pictures I’ve seen in magazines. The parking area is huge and surrounded by some kind of trees with green citrus. Maybe limes or unripe lemons. They smell divine.

The lot has numerous cars, far more than I imagined. Nick and his mother made it sound like it was a small, cozy gathering, but I count around thirty cars, all of them European and expensive. Mine is easily the saddest. I just hope they don’t tow it away, mistaking it for some beggar’s losermobile.

I take a path through a huge garden leading to a giant three-story house. The structure is made of stone, designed to appear sun-bleached. It overlooks the rows and rows of trees lining the rich soil, and I study the fruit on them. This section has oranges. Lovely. Bricks create an even path that leads from the house to the picnic area near a rectangular lake with a water garden. I see a crowd gathered there, and start walking toward them.

Nick spots me first and comes over. He’s sporting a pair of dark sunglasses, a silk shirt and pale cream slacks with loafers, looking like an affluent gentleman of leisure from Cary Grant’s era. The Rolex on his wrist sparkles in the sun as he waves. “Kristen! How wonderful of you to stop by!” He gives me an exuberant hug. “I hope the grove is worth the drive.”

“It’s beautiful. You’ll have to tell me how you managed to borrow the place.”

“Scotch. I gave Salazar Pryce an Old Dublin he couldn’t refuse.”

I laugh. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

He leads me to the group of people, all with dark Gallic looks. Some of them have green eyes like Antoine, some brown like Nick. But all of them are impeccably decked out in clothes made of the finest fabric and workmanship. Sparkling jewelry, expensive perfume and priceless watches complete their ensembles. I don’t look overdressed at all, standing among them. As a matter of fact, it’s slightly the opposite.

“And who is this beautiful young woman, Nicolas?” an elderly man asks.

“Kristen King, Papy,” Nick says. “She’s my guest. Kristen, this is my grandfather, Jonas Boucher.”

So this is the man who uses money to bend people to his will. He doesn’t appear to be a tyrant with a mustache he can twirl when he’s bored or feeling particularly evil. His face is finely carved, except for the jaw, which is square and set in a stubborn line, kind of like a mule that’s made up its mind about something and isn’t going to budge. There’s a hint of arrogance in his dark gaze that says he gives respect only to people who earn it the hard way. The tilt of his chin and the slightly bored line of mouth indicate he isn’t the type to be impressed easily.

I can imagine why Antoine might not have gotten along with him. Antoine is proud, and he can’t stand people telling him what to do. He’s his own man, and no force in the world will change that.

“So, Kristen King, are you dating my grandson for the inheritance?” he asks.

I choke.

“Papy!” Nick says.

“Don’t you think she should know?” Jonas turns to me. “Well?”

“Um, no… I’m not dating him for money. I have my own.”

“Do you now?”

“My brother gave me a five million-dollar trust.” Not that I’m ever touching it, but by God, I’m not going to let this man think I’m a gold digger. Or worse.

“Not much compared to one point two billion,” he points out. “All you’d have to do is what every woman eventually does—marry and have a child.”

My jaw literally drops. Then, because he hasn’t shocked me enough, he adds, “Well, you have to marry one of my grandsons and have his child, not just any child.”

I stare at Jonas. “Excuse me?”

“What? You think I’m stupid? I’m not having anyone fake a marriage for my money. They have to prove it’s real.”

“And a kid would do that?”

“A son.”

“Right.” Cue Twilight Zone theme music.

“You didn’t know?” Nick asks cautiously.

“No. Yes. I mean, sort of.” Antoine told me about the first half, not the second. “But we didn’t discuss it. Antoine and I, I mean.”

“You aren’t dating Nicolas?” Jonas asks.

“No. I’m with Antoine.”

“Well, well, well,” he mocks.

My back stiffens. “No offense, but you shouldn’t be taking that kind of tone. We aren’t together for your money. As a matter of fact, we’re both perfectly happy without it, and we’ll continue to be happy without it.”

“Why? Because you have a rich brother?”

“Our happiness doesn’t depend on money,” I say firmly. “It’s nice to have, but beyond a certain point, it doesn’t really matter. Whatever Antoine and I do is based on mutual love and respect.”

Just then, a familiar blonde comes over and blinks at me. “Aren’t you a designer at Lola, Inc.?”

I stare at her. I feel like I should know who she is, but I can’t place the face. She’s in an impractical skin-tight dress in flame red and four-inch heels. The only really impractical people I know are models, but only because their entire existence seems to revolve around looking good, no matter what. This woman isn’t a model…

Oh, that’s right… I ran into her in the break room. Miss Screaming Arachnophobe. I feel like she told me her name, but I can’t recall. I merely smile. “Yes. You were there. To…get a wedding gown made.”

“Yes! My goodness. What a small world. I had no idea you knew the Bouchers.”

“Neither did I. I mean, I didn’t know you knew the Bouchers.”

“My family used to be very friendly with them. My brother and Antoine used to be close until…you know, life happened. So Nick invited me when we ran into each other.”

“Ah,” I say, unsure how I’m supposed to respond.

“I’ll introduce you to my brother. But don’t say anything about the spider. He’s going to tease me. He thinks it’s silly to be scared of bugs.” She turns to Jonas. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He squints at her, like Dirty Harry spotting someone up to no good.

Or maybe I’m just projecting. I don’t really want to go. Say yes, you mind like hell, Jonas.

“Not at all. She’s all yours, Tessa,” he says.

I try hard not to make a face.

Tessa loops her arm around mine. “You know, I feel like it’s fate or something to run into you.”

“Is it?”

“You’re designing my gown, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I’m not. I don’t work for Lola anymore.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Her tone says she doesn’t give a damn about my employment status. She plucks a couple of mimosas from a table and hands me one. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” I say on auto-pilot, and clink the flute with hers. Since I have a feeling I’m going to need a drink or two to get through the party, I drain half the glass at once. I should’ve just taken Liza’s offer of a private tour. “You know, I haven’t met many other people yet, and I feel like—”

“Oh, this won’t take long. Eddie’s such a sweetheart, although that sounds sort of weird coming from his sister.” She giggles, the sound oddly off-putting. “He indulges me all the time. It’s sort of embarrassing. Do you have a brother, Kristen?”

But I stopped tracking her monologue when she mentioned her brother’s name was Eddie.

Wasn’t Antoine’s former best friend named Eddie?

“I just feel like things are finally coming together,” Tessa continues. “Once I marry Antoine, I’m sure Eddie will forgive him, and they’ll become good friends again.”

I feel sucker-punched. “Excuse me?”

“You didn’t know? The wedding gown…it’s for Antoine’s and my wedding.”

“Did Antoine propose to you?” I ask, my lips feeling vaguely numb.

“Well, of course, silly! Why else would I be commissioning a wedding gown?”

Tessa has to be making this all up. There’s no way…

On the other hand… He said he’d love a chance to undo the damage from the past. Holy shit. Is this what Eddie and Tessa dangled in front of him?

I take her left hand and turn it over. A diamond ring winks at me, circling her finger snugly. But it doesn’t look like something Antoine would choose. It’s vulgarly large and ostentatious. On the other hand, Tessa looks exactly like the type to love that sort of thing. My mouth dries, blood roaring in my head, making me dizzy, my skin clammy. Everything’s horribly wrong. No. Not everything. Something.

I just can’t think what that something is at the moment. The world begins to spin.