Page 17 of Right With You
I spent the next few minutes working to convince my sister and her husband to intercede with our grandfather on my behalf—to charm him the way she always managed to and induce him to let me come visit in a month or so when my schedule was clear. I could excuse Elise’s absence with her devotion to Glazed, and he’d have to respect her entrepreneurial spirit because he had some himself.
Aurelie burst out laughing. “You realize now that you’re engaged, there’s no way he’s not coming?”
It didn’t come as a surprise. Of course I knew this, even if I’d hoped she might have insight or some magical avenue I hadn’t thought of that would halt all of this in its tracks. “Oui. I know.”
Before we hung up, she promised to try and do what she could, which was all anyone could do, wasn’t it?
And the next morning, she confirmed what I’d suspected all along. There would be no avoiding a visit from Gérard Devereaux. But she delivered worse news—he’d decided to come to the gala in three weeksandbring the woman he expected me to marry, despite my claiming to be nearly engaged to someone else.
We wouldn’t manage a quick meet and greet. This had all just become a great deal more complicated.
So. Time to see Elise.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Elise
Luc entered the shop at his usual time on Tuesday morning. I didn’t actually see him come in because, thank goodness, two people stood in line ahead of him.
I just… knew it was him.
Sure, sure. Not normal to have a radar for a man like him. Too pretty, too appealing, and evidently, too much of a liar.
Because honestly, who told their family they were engaged to someone they’d barely spoken to?
Our conversation last Friday had been the longest interaction we’d ever had several times over, and the second place went to a few days prior when he’d threatened Callum on my behalf. Any other moments between us had been just that—moments built from seconds, not minutes.
Yes, he came into Glazed for donuts and sat for a little while to eat a few times a week. But we didn’t talk. He ordered, usually using my name once and as few other words as possible. If I hadn’t seen him talking and laughing at Craic during happy hour, I would’ve thought he was shy based on how he behaved with me.
I filled a wax-coated paper sack with Dr. Daniels’s order and handed it to her across the counter. “Have a great day, Doctor. Thanks for confirming donuts are not bad for our health.” I winked at her—the joke tired by now, but why stop?
A smile brightened her already lovely face. “Every now and then isn’t a problem. Moderation isn’t just an old wives’ tale.”
“See you next week,” I said, and she laughed.
“I hear you calling me out. That’s just fine, Elise Cordero. I know where you live.”
She waved as she exited and left me with the next customer. I heroically did not look past this person to get a glimpse of Luc.
The desire to do so gripped me, but I avoided it. My next patron ordered, and I happily filled a box with a dozen donuts, then said goodbye, keeping my eyes on him as he left and not the man now standing directly in front of me.
When I couldn’t justify not looking at him any longer, I met his gaze.
“Hello, Luc.”
His lips twitched, which I did not take note of because I was not looking at his lips. Nay, I was hardly seeing their surprisingly soft-looking shape. I wasn’t noticing the way his bottom lip was a bit fuller than his top one, and how his scruff for today seemed a touch longer than usual, highlighting said unignorable lips.
“I apologize for taking a few days. I would’ve called or texted, but I don’t have your number.”
His gorgeous gray-green eyes didn’t stray from mine and therefore, he held me captive. “Okay.”
“Unfortunately, I’d hoped to dissuade my family from visiting so you wouldn’t have to deal with this mess—this lie I’ve told—at all.”
This liehe emphasized as though I might not know what he meant.
Oh, yeah that. I practically forgot about the whole thing.
“But?” I prompted, needing him to get to whatever bad news I could see written on his handsome face.
