Page 6 of Right With You
“It’s just”—he plucked a tart up with two fingers, then continued with a wry grin—“it’s better than I could’ve imagined, you know?” He popped the little bite into his mouth and groaned.
I laughed. “I knew you’d love it. This is the best yet,” I told Dorian. “Je n’plaisante pas. J’en prendrais bien dix.”
“You’d like ten? That’s excessive,” Stone said, his brow furrowing, but a pull at the corner of his mouth gave away his real response to the compliment.
He was an odd mixture of shy and bold when it came to his baking. He wanted people to try what he made, to enjoy them, but he struggled to accept the praise that inevitably came with it—an apt metaphor for the man himself.
We chatted for a few more minutes, Kenny updating us on Elizabeth’s plans, and his failure to get her permission to propose, and then they landed on me. There came the guilt pulsing under my sternum.
“So, give it. What’s with the pacing? I know you can be angsty, but this is unusual.”
Kenny winked like a dope, but I loved him for it.
I was not particularly angsty, but he liked to joke that since I was half-French, I naturally tended toward feeling ennui and all the typical French feelings.
But this angst was real. And what I had to tell them might change things between us, so I couldn’t just brush it away. I couldn’t avoid this any longer.
It was time to let them know more—in ways I’d locked away. I’d resolved earlier in the day to be honest with them, and also to be more honest—more myself—whenever possible. Just thinking it made my eye twitch with dread, but it would be worth it.
I hoped.
Beast wasn’t here. Like the good husband he was, he was taking care of his pregnant wife. I’d almost copped out thinking it’d be best to have all three of my best friends in the same spot when I delivered this speech, but that would make me a coward. I’d catch Jude at his place when Jess was out, or corner him at work or something.
I had to do this.
“I have a confession to make. I’m afraid it’s going to upset you both, and I… I don’t want to tell you.” There. I’d said it.
Had to start somewhere.
Stone didn’t move, but Barbie sat up straighter and patted my back. “Then don’t tell us. It can’t be important, and nothing’s worth rocking the boat, right?”
I blinked at him, dumbfounded. “Really?”
He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “No. Not really. Tell us whatever you have to tell us, and we’ll take it in stride. We love you, man, and we’re not about to run out of here because of… whatever this is.”
I huffed out a breath, forcing my lungs to empty. My stomach clenched, and I stretched my neck one way, then the other. “Fine. I’ll just say it.”
Stone nodded.
They waited.
I didn’t speak.
“Mmkay, go ahead,” Kenny prompted.
So I did. After years and years of keeping it all in, I told them the truth.
“My name is not Doux.”
Kenny blinked. “Your name is not Jean-Luc Doux?”
My head shook slowly. “No. It’s Jean-Luc Devereaux.”
Kenny blinked again.
Stone slowly lowered his teacup to his saucer. “As in…”
I exhaled. “As in the primary shareholder of the conglomerate behind several major international?—”
