Page 42 of The Dancer and the Dark
She waved at the woman she met in the kitchen. “Hey, Miss Jackie. How are you tonight? I brought home some peppers and tomatoes like you asked.”
“Thank you, honey. And I’m doin’ just fine.”
Jaqueline Dennely was Gavin’s housekeeper in New Orleans. The older woman had to be in her fifties, but Chloe didn’t know for sure. Her dark eyes held decades of wisdom, and her silver-and-black hair was pulled into an immaculate chignon, but her dark brown skin held not a single wrinkle. She was formal in an old-country way, always wore neatly pressed dresses, and kept the house polished to perfection.
Chloe had been worried the older woman wouldn’t approve of her, but her immaculate appearance was only the exterior of a warm and generous soul. “Miss Jackie” had immediately made Chloe feel at home.
Jackie was chopping onions in a flower-dotted apron. “How was your practice today?”
“Really great. I think the director found a spot for us to perform next month.”
“So soon?”
“Mm-hmm.” She hung her workout bag in the laundry room off the kitchen. She’d once made the mistake of hanging it off the back of a kitchen chair and suffered a look from Jackie that made her feel about three years old.
“If you’re headed upstairs” —the housekeeper pointed to a tray— “I have Mr. Wallace’s tea ready.”
Chloe saw the wooden tray with an insulated thermos of tea, two china cups, two small sandwiches, and a bunch of green grapes. “I’ll bring it up; thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m putting together a chicken pilaf before I finish for the day. Message me if there’s anything else Mr. Wallace needs.”
She grabbed a grape and popped it in her mouth. “Miss Jackie?”
“Ye-es?”
Chloe asked, “Are you ever going to call Gavin by his first name like he keeps asking you to?”
Jackie sent her anotherlook, this time with a raised eyebrow. “The real question is, will I be calling you Mrs. Wallace anytime soon?”
“You better not.” She grabbed the tray and headed upstairs. “You know Marie-Hélène wants to make a giant party of this whole thing, so if you have any wedding questions, you better ask her, not me.”
“You’re thebride, Miss Chloe.”
She laughed. “I am along for the ride. If you think I have any say in this business, you are very mistaken.”
The kitchen flowed into the morning room and the family salon, which led to the formal dining room and the parlor and smoking room. Chloe ignored the fine furnishings that still felt like a museum and headed up the grand staircase in the entry hall.
The bedroom Gavin had set up was a variation on a European-style grand house with a husband’s room and a wife’s room on opposite sides of a shared dressing room, but in their case, it worked out perfectly since Gavin’s room needed to be secured and light proofed while Chloe’s did not.
She walked through her room to find Gavin sitting on the edge of her bed, watching the evening news on the television.
“Hey, handsome.”
He was already dressed. Damn.
Gavin’s smile was wicked. “Hello, my wife to be.”
“Be serious with me.” She poured him a cup of tea and added a little milk. “Is Jackie going to start calling me Mrs. Wallace after we’re married?”
“Hmm.” Gavin’s eyebrows rose when he tasted the tea. “I do like the sound of that, Mrs. Wallace.”
“You know I’m not planning to change my professional name. You told me it didn’t matter to you.”
“It does not, but if you think you’re going to keep Jaqueline from calling you Mrs. Wallace, I wish you good luck. The woman has worked for me over thirty years and she still calls me by formal address.” He shrugged. “She’s old-fashioned.”
“Speaking of old-fashioned, MHC’s social secretary emailed me today with a prospective schedule for the wedding. It’s five days, Gavin. Five days of events.”
“And I am sure Marie will fill up every minute.” Gavin frowned and set his teacup down on her side table. “Have we even set a date yet?”
