Page 38 of A Mistake of Identity
Gabriel
Gabriel was halfway through his croissant when Jacob materialized beside the breakfast table, bearing a cream-colored envelope on a silver tray. The elegant, old-fashioned card could only be one thing. He rolled his eyes, reaching for it with exaggerated reluctance.
“The LaMontagne Foundation’s annual fundraiser tickets have arrived, monsieur,” Jacob announced as if the ornate envelope wasn’t announcement enough.
Had it been a month already?
“Wonderful,” Gabriel muttered, slicing it open. Three tickets, as expected. He glanced around the table—Ellis carefully cutting his fruit into pieces, Jean drowning his pancakes in syrup while Lucas watched with fond exasperation, and Alain nursing his coffee like it held the secrets of the universe.
“Well, Lucas? Ready for another thrilling evening of Porte du Coeur’s finest patting themselves on the back at Pavillon Rivière?”
Lucas dabbed his napkin to his lips, the picture of careful consideration. “Actually, I thought I might stay in tonight. Keep Jean company.”
Jean’s head snapped up. “I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Of course not,” Lucas agreed smoothly, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “But you are far more entertaining than a stuffy fundraising ball.”
Gabriel didn’t bother hiding his smirk at the exchange. Lucas hadn’t been subtle about claiming Jean, and Gabriel was quite certain their evenings involved far more than watching movies.
“Alain?” Gabriel turned to his security chief. “I assume you’ll be—”
“May I be excused from attending?” Alain interrupted, not even bothering with an excuse.
“You never want to attend these events.” Gabriel shook his head, sipping orange juice.
Alain shrugged, eyes fixed on his coffee. “I just don’t like them.”
“Too bad,” Gabriel said cheerfully. “Shared misery and all that.”
Alain’s only response was to take another long drink of coffee, but Gabriel caught the slight downturn of his mouth. Good. If Gabriel had to endure another LaMontagne Foundation event, he wasn’t suffering alone.
Gabriel turned to Ellis, who was still focused on his methodical fruit-cutting. “Would you like to accompany me tonight?”
Before Ellis could respond, Jean’s fork clattered against his plate. “Is that—is that a good idea?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Gabriel felt his jaw tighten slightly. “Ellis is mine. He belongs at my side.” He softened his voice as he turned back to Ellis. “If you’d like to attend, of course.”
Ellis set down his knife. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’d like that.”
“They’re going to eat him alive,” Jean snapped. “All you’ll succeed in doing is making a spectacle of him. Is that fair? To parade him in front of all those sharks?”
Lucas quietly slid Jean’s fork back into his hand. “That’s enough.” The warning earned him a glare from Jean, but he fell silent.
Gabriel dismissed Jean’s concerns with a slight wave of his hand. He was La Sauvegarde’s CEO, heir apparent of the Rohan Estate. Ellis was his. No one would dare say a word.
“I’ve never been to the yacht club before,” Ellis said, clearly trying to dispel the tension. “I’d like to see the boats. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to sail on the ocean. Swimming in a pool is the closest I’ve ever gotten.”
Gabriel looked up, surprised. “You like boats?”
“Sailboats,” Ellis clarified. “Or... the idea of them, at least. I’ve never actually been on one. But the thought of sailing, seeing the world that way...” He shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “It seems freeing.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred boats,” Gabriel declared. “One in every port.”
Ellis laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m never going to see the ocean, much less set foot on a boat,” Ellis said, shaking his head.
Gabriel frowned but held his tongue. His petit oiseau clearly didn’t believe Gabriel would buy him a hundred boats.
He was wrong.
