Bayou Brides

by Linda Joyce

  “Absolutely, Sugar.” Marquis opened his eyes and licked his lips.

  “Ah…permission to enter Chef.” Nola squared her shoulders and saluted to prevent the moment turning more awkward.

  “Nola, come taste. It’s my seafood stew. Oysters. Shrimp. Crawfish. I’m going to julienne strips of fried catfish as a garnish on top for texture. Add some thinly sliced scallions for added flavor.”

  Crossing the kitchen, Nola tossed her backpack in the small office and leaned on the island next to Marquis. She opened her mouth just as he’d done.

  Kayla laughed. “I feel like a mother bird feeding her chicks.” She spooned it up for Nola.

  The flavors burst on her tongue. “More. Need more. I’m starving.”

  “Here.” Kayla slid the rest of the bowl in front of her. “Marquis, will you grab her a baguette?”

  “Thanks.” Nola took the offered bread. She tore a small chunk, dipped it in the savory liquid, and popped it in her mouth. “Lady, you can cook for me anytime, day or night.”

  “Exactly what I said,” Marquis chimed in. Nola caught his wink at Kayla and then her friend’s pinking blush. Kayla looked radiant. Nola mused, she should’ve tried to set the two of them up months ago.

  Grabbing another chunk of bread, Nola dunked again.

  “Slow down, girl,” Kayla said.

  “Only had a protein bar and water today. Didn’t have dinner last night. Too much bourbon.”

  “Curious.” Kayla eyed her.

  “What?” Nola took another spoonful of the stew and chased it with more bread.

  “Now I know where my brother spent the night.”

  Nola stopped, spoon midair. She cut a glance to Kayla and then to Marquis. The pair wore smiles as wide as circus clowns.

  “So…what’s up?” Kayla asked.

  Nola tilted her head slightly. Echoes of that same question she’d asked Jason earlier rang in her ears. “You tell me. Did you get a phone call of some sort?”

  “Phone call?” Kayla laughed. “Hell no. My brother presented himself during the height of our lunch rush. Perky. Happy. Said he has some very interesting news. I’m guessing it’s about the two of you.”

  A flush heated Nola’s cheeks. How much should she share about her feelings for Rex?

  A buzz on the intercom interrupted her thoughts.

  Kayla walked to the wall and pushed a button.

  “Kayla, has Nola arrived?” Rex’s voice rang through the kitchen.

  “Yes, she’s here.”

  “I need all of you up here. Has Henri arrived?”

  “No.”

  “That’s fine. I have news I want to explain before he gets here. March upstairs. Now.”

  Kayla rolled her eyes. Nola stifled a laugh.

  “Yes, sir.” Kayla saluted.

  “Excellent. And I’m making this a public announcement. I love Nola Dutrey.”

  Nola’s eyes widened. Rex loved her? A wave of tingling caressed her skin. Her cheeks heated. Her heart fluttered, and she pressed a hand to her chest to calm the breathlessness.

  Kayla scrunched her nose, smiling, and shivered as though with excitement. “I see a plethora of wonderful positive possibilities.”

  Nola never thought her words of encouragement to Kayla would return to her in quite this way.

  “Well, well,” Marquis said. “This is a happy day for all of us.”

  “I think I’ll float upstairs now.” Nola turned toward the door. “I can’t imagine what other news Rex Arceneau has to share.”

  Chapter 18

  Waiting for his sister and Nola to reach the third floor, Rex answered an incoming phone call. “Hello, Phillip.”

  “We’ve got a problem.” Anger, tight and hot, reached Rex. All his senses flipped to high alert.

  “What?”

  “Arson.”

  “Where?”

  “The farm and at 29N & 90W.”

  “Our flagship restaurant?” Rex pounded his fist on the desk. “What are you telling me?”

  “The restaurant burned. The dining room. Kitchen spared. The small barn at the farm burned to the ground. Contents a total loss.”

  “When?”

  “During the early morning hours. I’ll give you details when you get here. Text me your arrival information. I’ll have a car pick you up at the airport.”

  Rex raked his fingers through his hair. His brain stuttered with disbelief. Fractured images of the farm and restaurant flipped through his mind. All he’d helped build. And buying the farm had been his idea, requiring a mountain of coaxing to get his two business partners to agree.

  “When can you be here? We need you. This has to take top priority—over that. There’s so much at stake for all of us.”

  The insinuation that Arceneau’s wasn’t as important rankled Rex. The New York operation had all the necessary insurance to handle the fire loss. His sister, on the other hand, was family and had no safety net. The only asset she had beyond the restaurant was the Garden District house. If Arceneau’s didn’t move the bottom line into the black, Kayla would lose her legacy and her dignity. What good would the house be to her if she didn’t have a job here?

  And Nola. She lived here. His chest tightened, then constricted more. His heartbeat rang in his ears. The last thing he wanted was to leave her. With him in New York and her in New Orleans, what chance did their love have to survive? Never before had he framed his life with a woman to share it. After all, as much as he loved his mother, she’d not been an honorable wife, then she died. Had that impacted his life decisions more than he realized?

  But honor and integrity required that he fulfill his primary duty to his business partners. Someone had to deal with the details of the insurance and rebuilding. If he ranked the needs of those counting on him rather than their wants, Kayla and Nola would manage without him.

  “Give me a few minutes, Phillip. I’ll get this figured out. I’ll call you back.” Rex ended the call.

  “Hello?” Nola waited in the doorway, brow furrowed. Behind her stood Kayla and Marquis. “Is everything okay, Rex?”

  Footsteps sounded behind them.

  “Hello. Nice to see all.” Henri smiled wide. He tapped Kayla on the shoulder, then pulled her into a hug. “How’s my favorite niece?”

  Delight lit Kayla’s face, annoying Rex. Henri didn’t deserve the affection and devotion his sister gave freely to the old man. “Uncle Henri. You’ve been absent lately. What’s this mystery meeting about?”

  “I’m Henri Arceneau,” he said, releasing Kayla and reaching out his hand to Marquis. The cuff on his shirt revealed gold cuff links. Rex wanted to yank them away from Henri. But everything in right time, he assured himself.

  “Uncle Henri, that’s Marquis, and that’s Nola.”

  “Ah, yes. We’ve met.” Henri stiffened and barely glanced in Nola’s direction, whereas she smiled up at him.

  A curling of unease tightened in Rex’s gut. His bio sperm donor had proven what he’d intuitively always known about him—he was a manipulating scumbag.

  “Before we get down to business, Kayla, honey, why don’t you make us some coffee?” Henri asked.

  She nodded.

  “No,” Rex interrupted. Henri would not treat his sister as though she were a kitchen lackey or there to do his bidding. Above all others, Arceneau’s belonged to her. She was the true heir of Claude Arceneau’s estate. “I’ll call down to the kitchen and have someone bring some up, if you must have coffee.”

  “I can wait. Business it is.” Henri stepped between Kayla and Marquis and took a seat in one of the chairs inside the office.

  Rex stood and motioned for the others to enter. “Kayla, I’d like you to sit there.” He pointed to the office chair. It was her rightful place. He perched on the two-drawer cabinet off to the side of the desk, strategically wanting to be on the same side of the desk as Kayla and opposite Henri. Their positioning in the room was intended to send a subtle message of solidarity between himself and his s
ister, even if Henri didn’t pick up on it.

  “Well,” Henri began. “Being the elder of the family, I will begin.”

  Rex raised an eyebrow but let him continue.

  “Kayla, you’re a fine pastry chef. One of the best in the city. You’re a good sous chef, but…honey, the truth is, you’re not executive chef material. I think you know that.”

  “Uncle Henri—” Kayla started, but Rex put a hand on her arm and stopped her. Henri deserved an opportunity to say all he needed. Yet Rex could barely contain the urge to blurt out the sins of the man he’d called “Uncle” all his life.

  “Continue, Henri.”

  “The business is failing. Expenses are too high. You have no way to infuse capital to turn things around. Rex won’t take over as executive chef. So…I want to buy you out. Rex and I will take over the restaurant. You will stay on as the pastry chef. This way, we can ensure the continued success of Arceneau’s, which will mean you will always be gainfully employed.”

  Kayla’s mouth gaped. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the arms of the chair.

  Rex couldn’t quite read Marquis’ expression, but he had one hand wrapped around the other that was curled into a fist. Nola’s eyes widened, and she cast her gaze to her lap where she laced and unlaced her fingers.

  “Is that all?” Rex asked.

  Henri shrugged. “I’m willing to unburden you of the big house. I’ll buy it from the two of you. Rex, you’re rarely here. I would expect your visits to New Orleans and your dealings with the restaurant to remain about the same. The house is too big for Kayla. You don’t want to manage the upkeep, do you darlin’?”

  Kayla blinked as though she hadn’t quite heard all that had been said.

  “Kayla mentioned she wanted to sell the house. Wanted to buy a condo in that converted warehouse facing the river.”

  “Is there anything else, Uncle?” Rex asked.

  “No. Short and sweet. This is about business, though I am trying to look out for the interests of my favorite niece and nephew.”

  “What the fuck,” Kayla snapped. “I’m your only damn niece. He’s your only nephew. It’s like blinders have been ripped from my eyes. You want to steal Arceneau’s from me.”

  Rex squeezed Kayla’s shoulder, wanting to offer support.

  She swatted his hand away. “Are you in on this? You want to take Arceneau’s from me? How could you?”

  Rex squeezed her shoulder again. “Henri, is there anything else you’d like to say?”

  “I took the liberty of getting an appraisal on the house. Here it is.” He pulled an envelope from his back pocket. “I’m willing to pay the appraised price.”

  “I want to be sure I’ve given you every opportunity to make your positions clear—about the restaurant, the house, and our family. Is there anything else you have to say?”

  Henri chuckled. “Always so serious, Rex. Practical-minded. Taking care of business. So like me. Yes, one last thing. I brought champagne. It’s cooling downstairs. I had all the necessary paperwork drawn up. If you’re ready, we can conclude the transactions today.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the desk. “Kayla, honey, this is a great solution for you. You get the condo you want, the job you love, and the security you need.”

  Rex glued his gaze on her, wondering what she might say.

  “Part of your offer is tempting,” Kayla began. “I don’t have the same attachment to the house that Rex does. I don’t object to selling. However, I won’t give up my stake in Arceneau’s. Discussion over.”

  She started to rise. Once again, Rex placed a hand on her shoulder. “Actually, it’s not. Not yet. I do have some say in this, too.”

  “I won’t be guilted into doing something I don’t want to do. You want the house, then buy me out. Or sell to Uncle Henri. Doesn’t matter to me. But you”—she thumped him in the chest—“nor you”—she pointed to Henri—“will force me to give up what I love. I’m not selling my share of the restaurant.”

  Henri leaned back in his chair. Lacing his fingers together, he reached behind his head. His smile widened. “Kayla, honey, together, Rex and I can force you out. Together we own the controlling interest in the business, right, son?”

  Nola cleared her throat. “Maybe I should leave. I don’t think…”

  “Stay.” Rex and Kayla spoke at the same time.

  Rex stood and paced to the door and back. “Right, Henri, right. It’s true, Kayla. Uncle Henri and I could join forces. With his ten percent and my fifty, we would have controlling interest. I think Uncle Henri, if he’s running the kitchen, could make your life a living hell. Like he’s done for me all of my life.”

  Henri bolted up in the chair, scowling. “What?”

  Marquis stood, scraping chair legs against the wooden floor. Shock flashed on Nola’s face. Kayla slowly turned. Rex locked gazes with her.

  “Kayla, we are brother and sister…but only half.”

  Kayla shook her head as though confused.

  Rex sighed deeply. “Henri is my biological father. You and I share the same mother.”

  Henri’s expression shuttered, as though a magic spell had changed him to a robot. He rose.

  “Sit,” Rex snapped. “You started this. I’m going to finish it. Kayla, open the right bottom drawer of the desk.”

  “Rex?”

  “Please do as I ask.”

  Once the drawer was open, she looked up at him.

  “Please pull out the folder and open it.”

  As he instructed, his sister complied.

  “I still don’t understand. Your birth certificate?”

  “Look at the information under father.”

  “Claude Arceneau.”

  “Keep reading, Kayla. Birthdate.”

  “It’s wrong. That’s Papa’s name, but not his birthday.”

  Henri, gaze cast downward, exhaled deeply. “It’s mine.”

  “Rex?” Kayla whipped her head to stare at him. Her eyes were wild with disbelief.

  “I don’t know the details, but I’m sure Henri will fill us in, won’t you? It seems that my sperm donor is Papa’s older brother. I’ve known since I was ten. Since before Momma died. I also learned our house originally was titled to her, never to her and Papa. She left it in trust to be passed to the two of us. He put the house in our names. We’ve always owned it since we were children.”

  Kayla shook her head. “I’m not able to navigate this river of crap. You knew? You didn’t tell me?”

  Was she not getting the crux of the truth? He was the one betrayed by his own father. Her father loved her. She’d always known who he was and enjoyed his love. But not him.

  “Henri is my father. Claude Arceneau never had a son. I doubt he died knowing the truth.”

  “He did,” Henri insisted. “We had an arrangement. He paid me not to tell you.”

  Rex’s heart seized. Papa knew? “You lie.”

  A vortex of thought nearly made Rex sick. His palms turned sweaty. He wouldn’t give Henri the satisfaction of witnessing his discomfort.

  “You’re lying,” Kayla spat.

  Rex raised an eyebrow. “The extra payment to Nola Dutrey every other month?”

  “What?” Nola asked.

  “Oh yeah, he was using you, too, but you didn’t know it. Before you, it was the combo who played in the lounge. And before that. Then there are those produce bills…”

  “What about them?” Kayla narrowed her eyes.

  “I finished going through the receipts the produce guy sent over. Checking the books against the information, it proved Henri marked them up an extra ten percent. Each and every one of them.”

  “That was payment for the money I gave your father to bail him out a few years ago. There’s nothing illegal about what I’ve done.”

  “Illegal? Illegal?” Rex shouted. He stood in front of Henri. “You immoral son of a bloodsucker. You robbed Claude Arceneau, my father, of his dignity.”

  “No. I. Did. Not.” H
enri stood. He poked Rex in the chest with his finger. “Claude knew when he married your mother that she was pregnant. He loved her. He didn’t care. He just didn’t know I was the father. He didn’t want to know. Forbade her from ever telling him about the father. She tried.”

  “If he didn’t know, why was he paying you to keep silent? And what about the house?” Kayla demanded.

  “The house belonged to your momma’s grandparents. No one in her family could afford to buy it when the old people got sick and needed money for healthcare and nursing homes. So I bought it. I gave it to your mother. Claude thought she inherited it. It was my wedding present to them. To make up…”

  “Make up for what?” Kayla pushed.

  “What?” Rex demanded.

  “A single error in judgment.”

  “In English.” Kayla looked ready to skewer him and roast him on a spit.

  “You kids don’t really want to know this.”

  “Now!” Kayla ordered.

  “It was a party. We were all there together. Another man paid attention to your mother. Your father left, rejecting her, saying she was too young for him. The party went on. We got drunk and ended up together. She never loved me, always loved your father.” Henri hung his head.

  “And him paying you?” Rex demanded.

  “When your momma died, I wanted to claim you. You are my son. My firstborn. But Claude threatened me. And he gave me ten percent of the business…so I could look after you.”

  “You douchebag! You think the two of you can rip the business away from me? I’m Papa’s heir. I’m his only child. You can’t have the restaurant, Rex. It’s mine.”

  “Kayla, hold on. There’s more to the story.”

  “Fuck you. I’m out of here. You have anything else to say to me, talk to my attorney. I’m hiring one right now. You’re my brother. Even if you’re only half, but you won’t steal what’s mine from me.” Shoving him aside, she stormed from the room. Marquis followed on her heels.

  Nola stood. “Mr. Arceneau, I’m deeply disappointed to learn that I’ve been used. Rex, please call me later. I’m going to try to calm Kayla down. We can’t leave things like this…though I can understand her sense of betrayal.”

  The sound of Nola’s footsteps faded as Rex stared at Henri.