Bonne Chance: Bourbon Street, Book 2

by Cat Montmorency

Chance stared in shock, trying to process what she was hearing, to formulate some kind of response. But Belinda continued before she could get anywhere.

  “You’re still you, Chance. I’m not a person anymore; I’m a title—Mom. And yeah, it’s what I always wanted to be, but you constantly looked down your nose about that. And we come here and my God, you’re living the perfect life. You’re a fucking Dominatrix, Chance. You’re successful, you’re happy, you’ve got the perfect body, the perfect boyfriend—and don’t tell me that was all fake. You may not think so, but I really do love Darren. Heart and soul. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and I know what that looks like.” She turned away and leaned against the wall. “I could never top your life. Here I am, this boring housewife, with stretch marks and a saggy belly, and a life that revolves around exactly one thing—my child. Everything Mom wanted for me. And still it’s all about you. ‘Well, Belinda’s settled, good for her, let’s go fix up Chance.’ Pardon me for being a little fucking jealous.”

  Chance shook her head, suddenly wishing she had someplace to sit. “Bels, I…I had no idea. You and Mom were always thick as thieves. I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t please her. It was always ‘Look at how perfect Belinda is.’ In other words, look at what a screw-up I was. I moved here to get away from that, from the weight of their expectations. I thought you were happy.”

  Belinda sniffed, wiping at the tears that streaked her face. “Yeah, well. Nobody’s perfect. And trying to be sucks.”

  Chance laughed. “Yeah. It does. Can I make a suggestion?”

  Belinda snorted. “Well, you already told me to fuck off, so go for it.”

  “Figure out what makes you happy. Stop trying to make Mom happy. Darren loves you. Talk to him. Don’t let the resentment and the expectation destroy you.”

  “Is that why you became…?”

  “A Pro-Domme? No. I became one because I’m damn good at it. And it makes me happy. It feeds a part of me I didn’t know needed feeding.” Chance took a deep breath and stepped closer to her sister. “I’m sorry you felt like you had to give up everything you wanted in order to be loved. You didn’t. And you don’t.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “Yeah, well, Mom has her own issues. But you have to stop living for her, Bels. If there’s one thing New Orleans taught me, it’s that. Live for you.”

  Belinda let out a slow breath. “I should go check on Jaden. You should…you should probably talk to Dad.”

  “Yeah. I should. Think about what I said, Bels.”

  Her sister nodded before turning away. Chance watched her for a minute, then sighed. She really did need to find her dad. Pulling out her phone, Chance brought up his contact information and called his cell.

  “Chance, honey! I was just sitting down to breakfast with Darren. Want to join us?”

  Chance laughed as she came out of the hotel. She didn’t really want to sit down over breakfast and discuss her sex life, but it needed to happen. “I’d love to. Where are you?”

  There was some shuffling on the other end, conversation Chance couldn’t pick out. “Some fancy diner with pink walls, the old fashioned kind where you sit around a bar, but you should see the omelet they make. And apparently everyone swears by this place. I’m contemplating some of that pecan pie after this egg. Don’t tell your mother.”

  Chance shook her head and smiled. “My lips are sealed. Sounds like the old Camellia. Did the sign out front have a pink fleur de lis with a bowtie?”

  “Uh…yeah. Yeah it does. You know where it is?”

  “I do. I’ll see you there in a few minutes.” She ended the call and hit the speed dial for Cassandra as she set off in the direction of The Grill.

  “Chance! Damn, woman. I was beginning to think that Marine had done you in. I need details, and now. Where are you?”

  “Just came from telling my mom and sister to go to hell.” Chance sighed. “They know, Cass.”

  “Well, fuck. Are we happy or devastated? Does Adrian know? How much do they know?”

  “A knows. And my mom and sister know everything. Or good enough. About Landry, about me being a Pro-Domme.”

  “Damn. How did they find out? Did you tell them?”

  “Belinda found out somehow.”

  Cassandra swore under her breath. “Fucking cunt. I’m sorry, Chance, but’s a manipulative bitch who can’t stand not being in the spotlight.”

  Chance took a deep breath. “Actually…she came after me once I stormed out. We actually talked, Cass. Turns out she’s always felt kind of trapped by Mom’s expectations. She’s been jealous.” She bit her lip, thinking. “It was a good talk. I’m not going to say we’re best friends now, but maybe we understand each other a little better. At any rate, I hate her less.”

  “Hmph. If you say so. Speaking of the queen, how did your mother take it?”

  Chance laughed, glancing at traffic as she crossed the street. “Predictably. And I don’t even care. I told them I’m happy, that I love my job, and if that’s not enough for her she can fuck off. Bels too, though after our conversations, I don’t think that’s where she’s headed now.”

  “Good for you. What about your dad?”

  She let out her breath slowly. “He and Bel’s husband are out eating at the old Camellia Grill. I’m headed over now to tell him.”

  “Oh I love that chocolate pecan pie they do. You should have some. It’ll ease the sting.”

  “I might do that. Cass…” She bit her lip, hesitating. “I don’t know how he’s going to take this.”

  “I know, hon. But you’ll be fine. Want to come over after?”

  “A wants me at his place after. Maybe later? I might need some pampering. And alcohol.” She sighed. “And I may have fucked things up with Landry by not telling them sooner. He was there last night when Bels confronted me.”

  “Oh, Chance. I won’t tell you I told you so, because that’s the last thing you need. We’ll figure out Boudreaux. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to write you off. But hang in there, girl. We love you, and you love this life. If they can’t accept that…”

  “…they can fuck off. So we all keep saying. Thanks, Cass.”

  “Anytime, Chancey.”

  Ending the call, Chance locked the screen on her phone and headed into The Grill. Formerly the Camellia Grill, the diner had been a New Orleans institution since the forties. The name change had come a few years back, the result of some legal dispute over a minor change to the logo. One of many post-Katrina changes the city had been forced into. Chance hadn’t really paid any attention until the new sign went up. But the restaurant itself had changed little—the service was still its quirky, amazing self, and the food was good as ever. Which was all most of the residents cared about.

  The overwhelming smell of breakfast hit her as soon as she opened the door. Eggs, grits, bacon, steak…it all assaulted her. Chance wasn’t in the least surprised that her father had found his way here. He’d always had a soft spot for the kind of homegrown restaurants that New Orleans was famous for. It was one of the reasons she’d wanted him to visit for so long. And watching him chat up the waitstaff, laughing along like a regular, she had to admit it was good to have him here.

  One of the servers looked up and saw her as she slid into an empty seat, and smiled. “Now don’t tell me Miss Chance here is your daughter.”

  Otis Gordon turned to her with a wide grin and slid his arm around Chance. “She is indeed. My oldest. She must be quite the regular here if you recognize her.”

  The server laughed. “No, she run with Lacroix’s crowd. Important people, your daughter is. What can I get you, Miss?”

  Chance smiled. She knew she had a certain notoriety in some circles, thanks to Adrian, but it was always strange to see it. “I know it’s early, but can I get a slice of pecan pie?”

  The server laughed a ful
l-belly laugh, pointing at her father while he did the same. “Two peas in a pod, I see. I’ll be right back with both y’alls.”

  “I take it you ordered a slice too, Daddy?” She leaned over him and waved at her brother-in-law. “Hey, Darren.”

  “He did. How’re you, Chance?”

  “Hanging in there. You boys enjoying your breakfast?”

  Her father grinned. “We are. But it’s better now you’re here. Now what did that young man mean when he said you were important people?”

  Chance sighed, then perked up slightly as their server returned with two slices of The Grill’s famous chocolate pecan pie. She took a single bite, easing it slowly off her fork and savoring the flavor. “Mmm. God, I love this stuff. Okay. How much do you really want to know?”

  Her father cocked his head, scrutinizing her. “How much do you want to tell me?”

  She took another bite of the pie, taking her time. Stalling. “Adrian Lacroix, he’s…well known. I’m known in a few circles.”

  “As a therapist?”

  Chance swallowed a small bite quickly, hoping for courage in sugar and chocolate and pecans. “Sort of. I’m not only a therapist, I’m a Dominatrix, I do couples and sex therapy on a very exclusive basis and I specialize in kink and alternative lifestyle sexual needs. Adrian’s kind of my handler—he screens clients and runs my books.”

  She cautiously looked up, but her father simply said, “Huh,” and took a large bite of his pie.

  Chance took a moment to grow cautiously optimistic.

  “Are you good at it?”

  She smiled. “I am. I’m really good at it.”

  “And do you like what you do? Are you proud of it?”

  She looked hard at him and slowly nodded. “I do. I am. I love it, Dad.”

  Otis shrugged. “Well, that’s what matters, honey.”

  Chance stared at him, pie forgotten, then looked over at Darren, who was still working on his steak and omelet. Her brother-in-law looked up and winked. “Pretty fucking cool, if you ask me. Just don’t tell your sister I said so.”

  She barked a laugh and shook her head. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Mom’s basically not speaking to me. And Bels…”

  “They’ll come around.” Her father stuffed the last piece of pie in his mouth and chased it with half a glass of milk.

  Chance shook her head again and patted his arm with a smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Daddy. I need to get going.” She motioned to the server, who brought over a to-go box for her pie.

  Otis nudged her. “Here I was hoping you’d let me finish that.”

  “Ha. Fat chance. The pie is mine.”

  “Fine, fine… Give me a kiss before you go.” She leaned in, dropping a kiss on his cheek, and her father smiled. “That’s my girl. Now, I want you and that Sergeant Boudreaux of yours to dinner before we go, all right? Especially since we missed you last night.”

  Chance froze. “Dad, about Landry… He’s not… We’re not…”

  “I know.” Otis grinned. “But he likes you. A father can tell.”

  “All right. But if Mom and Bels—”

  “It’ll be the three of us. Four, if I need Darren as my cover. You won’t mind, will you, Darren?”

  Her brother-in-law smiled. “Nah. I like you guys. And I bet you know all the good places to eat around here.”

  Chance laughed. “I do. I’ll see if Adrian can get us a table at Antoine’s, then. See you guys.”

  “Later, honey.”

  “Hey, Chance?”

  She looked up at Darren, who wiped his face and tossed the cloth napkin down on the bar before spinning to face her. “Go easy on Bels. To her, you’ve got the perfect life. You look good, you’re happy, you’re not hurting for money, you could get any guy you wanted… And while I know she loves me, she feels very decidedly unsexy right about now. She’s covered in baby spit half the time, her nipples are all messed up from nursing, she’s still working off the pregnancy weight—which, between you and me, because she won’t hear it, looks damn good on her—”

  Chance laughed, holding up her hand for him to stop. “Too much information, Darren. She is still my baby sister. But I know. We actually talked. Without killing each other. I won’t say we’re perfect, because we’re still a long way from it, but we’re…closer to good than we’ve been in a long time.”

  Darren nodded. “Good. Thanks, Chance.”

  “Anytime.” She grabbed the box with her pie, eyeing her father as she did, and headed out the door feeling much more hopeful when she entered. Her father’s reaction was far better than she’d dared dream of, and Darren’s approval didn’t hurt, either. Chance laughed to herself. She still had no idea how Belinda had landed such a great guy, or why Darren put up with her, but who was she to question love? She only hoped Bels knew how lucky she was.

  Oh well. Not my problem.

  Her problem was currently on duty at the Marine facility over in the old naval base.

  One thing at a time. At least her family was dealt with, and that had gone better than she’d hoped.

  Chance took a deep breath, inhaling the unique smell that was New Orleans in the summer—spicy food, fresh seafood, the waterfront, that slightly sickly sweet tang of beer spilled the night before and now baking in the sun, and that little something extra that she could never put her finger on. History. It smelled like history. And home.

  By the time she reached Adrian’s house, the swagger was back in her step and she felt better than she had in months. When Devon opened the door, she was grinning.

  “Thank you, Devon. How are you today?”

  “I’m well, Mistress.”

  The large man’s deep, quiet voice was always a shock to Chance, more so because he spoke so little. “I’m glad to hear it. I want to apologize again for last night. Family drama, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  He bowed in response. “Thank you.”

  “Is he in?”

  “His office, Mistress. He’s expecting you.”

  She smiled at him, then headed toward the stairs that would take her to Adrian’s office. Not for the first time, she wondered what Devon’s story was—he’d shown up before she left for Michigan, just suddenly there one day. Adrian had found him, like he’d found all of them, but the quiet giant of a man had more of an air of mystery about him than anyone else in their circle. Adrian hadn’t chosen to share the sub’s story, and Chance had never found a good time to ask.

  Whatever his history, though, his devotion to Adrian—and therefore all of the Maître’s immediate circle—was absolute. Frankly, Chance couldn’t fault him for that. She’d do just about anything for Adrian as well.

  Speaking of…

  The man himself looked up with a crooked grin as she walked in his office. “Well, ma chère dame Chance?”

  “They all know. Mom probably won’t speak to me until I give up my sinful ways, and Dad says as long as I’m happy, so is he. Bels…we talked. Surprisingly. Got some things out in the open. I think whatever she knows, it’s fine. All in all, it’s been an exciting morning.”

  Adrian’s lips twitched. “Surely that must feel better than constantly having to conceal it from them, non?”

  “Fine, yes, I’m thrilled it’s all out in the open. Happy?”

  He grinned. “Always. And what about our Sergeant Boudreaux, hmm?”

  Chance sighed. “He’s on duty, so I can’t talk to him yet.”

  “Hmm. Setting that aside, tell me about how things have been going with him.”

  “I really can’t believe you let him go so long without introducing him to the lifestyle. That boy was made to be a sub. He’s a ridiculously fast study too. Tell him something once, and he’s got it down cold. He’s amazing.”

  Adrian propped his head on one hand and cocked a
n eyebrow.

  “What?”

  He chuckled. “Do I really have to ask, ma chère dame?”

  Chance glared at him. “Ask what?”

  “Mon petit pauvre. There’s a reason Tamara suggested you train him, and a reason I agreed. As did our dear friend Cassandra. So are you going to ask him?”

  “Ask him what? I don’t even know if he still wants anything to do with me, after last night.”

  Adrian gave her a patient look.

  Chance stared. “You damned devil. You set this whole thing up, didn’t you? You knew I’d want him.”

  Adrian tipped his head and waved his hand in a mock bow. “For true. Guilty as charged.”

  She shook her head at him, still grinning. “Are you ever not plotting something? God. Why did you wait so long, then? He’s been coming to see you for years, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only Domme who hadn’t worked him over.”

  He only smirked in answer.

  Chance’s grin faded as she realized. “You son of a bitch. The whole thing?”

  “I might have nudged your sister in the right direction.”

  “I don’t… Why, dammit? Why the fuck would you do that to me?”

  Adrian gave her a pitying look. “Chance, no one should hide who they are. You were never going to be happy until they knew, and you were never going to tell them.”

  “Dammit, Adrian, you had no right—”

  He waved her off. “You are one of my Dommes, Chance. And while I could have ordered you to tell them, you would have fought me at every step. It’s who you are, who you’ve always been. Once you told me they were coming, did you think I didn’t expect the first thing you’d do would be to ask Landry to cover for you? You so hate to disappoint them, but you chafe against their expectations even worse.”

  Standing, Adrian walked around to the front of his desk and sat against the edge. “I have watched you grow from a headstrong college student willing to strip for her tuition, to one of the most respected Pro-Dommes in Vieux Carré. And I have watched you yearn quietly for what your friend Cassandra has with her Ellie, what Toussaint has with his Marcelle. I have known Boudreaux almost as long as I have you, and I have known for some time he would be perfect for you. But I also knew you would never find what it was you wanted until you stopped lying to yourself and your family.”