Page 36 of Right With You
Michele released me and cupped my face in his hands, shaking me a little bit. I wouldn’t have been shocked if he’d kissed me full on the lips in his enthusiasm, but today he just looked like a proud dad as he gazed at me.
“Alright, love. Let him go and let’s talk,” Aurelie said, taking her husband’s hand and leading him to the sitting area in the suite.
I followed behind and sat in a comfortable, stylish chair. The room was full of forest and sage greens and creams and golds. It was all very classy and crisp while somehow managing to be comfortable and not stuffy.
“So we meet her tonight? Have you prepared her?” Aurelie asked, already onto business.
“I’ll pick her up a bit early and make sure she doesn’t have any questions.” We’d spoken about the situation enough that Elise understood my grandfather had an agenda for his visit. I’d need to make sure she also knew he might be quite rude.
“We’ll do what we can, but he’s very upset at you, you naughty boy,” Michele said, winking at me as though he relished my disobedience.
“Are you enjoying this?” I asked him, leaning back in my chair and watching as they each filled small plates of fruit and pastries from a silver tray set on a low table in the sitting area.
“How could I not?” He balanced his small plate on one of his trouser legs and rested his arm along the back of the small sofa, grazing Aurelie’s shoulder.
“He’s only enjoying that you’ve told Grand-père no. It happens so rarely, it’s something to note.” She bit into her croissant, brows raising as she looked down to inspect the pastry. “Ooh, c’est bon, ça.”
“It’s a pleasant surprise when Americans know their pastry,” Michele added, shoving almost an entire croissant into his mouth.
“Anything else I need to know? Do you know Odette at all?”
I hadn’t investigated my would-be bride because I hadn’t wanted to. But now that the time had come, I’d realized this was short-sighted. I could use the Saint resources to dig deep, but ultimately, I didn’t need dirt on her. I didn’t need anything from her except for her to accept that she wasn’t meant to be with me.
And Elise is?
The thought slipped in, poking at something I couldn’t quite name. Of course Elise wasn’t. I had no plans to marry for real, and neither did she. We were on the same page with that decision.
“She’s a lovely girl. A bit young, if you ask me, but thatwouldbe Grand-père’s choice, wouldn’t it?” She held a fork aloft, a small strawberry speared on its end, and added, “As you can tell by the name, they’ve got deep French roots but immigrated a generation or two ago. They’ve got business holdings Grand-père is interested in now, so…”
It always came down to business. Well, business and family. But for my family, those two were intertwined and messy, and maybe they were for this Odette as well. I pitied her, because she wasn’t about to make the match that would uphold her family’s origins or whatever it was they hoped to gain here.
We sat and chatted a while longer before I had to get to work. I’d begin personal security detail for a client tomorrow and maintain that for fairly long days right up until the gala, so I had a few things to do before meeting with Elise this evening.
I bid my sister and Michele goodbye and gave them a few suggestions for what they could do with their time, then headed out. I’d formulate a way to tell Elise just how bad it might be, and I’d hopefully manage to make it worth her pain and suffering.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Elise
Half an hour before closing, a gorgeous couple entered Glazed and instantly started beaming as they took in the bright pink walls and white, light pink, and black accents.
By now, seeing stunning people wandering the streets of Silverton, especially nearing a big event like the upcoming charity gala, had become par for the course. Or it should’ve been. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to seeing big name celebrities around town.
These two weren’t famous that I recognized, but I hadn’t gotten a look at them straight on until they stepped up to the counter and the woman grinned.
“You’re Elise.”
It clicked instantly. “And you’re Aurelie.”
“Yes! This is my husband Michele. We’re so happy to meet you!”
Her enthusiasm shocked me, as did the leap in my chest as she leaned over to air kiss to one side of my face then the other, despite the counter separating us, then took my hand and patted it as though it was a stand in for a hug.
I was genuinely happy to see someone who belonged to Luc—who knew and loved him in ways I never could but wanted to.
Wait. That had to be the frosting fumes getting to my head.
“The pleasure’s all mine. Can I get you a donut?”
