by Doreen Alsen
****
“You want a what?” Hank, the bartender looked at her as if she her skin had just turned green in front of his very eyes.
“A Sazerac cocktail.”
“I guess I may have heard of it but I’ve never made one. Let me check the book and pray we have the right ingredients.”
“I know that this customer is very particular.” A big understatement to say the least. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
What to do next? Go to the kitchen. Surely there was a crisis there she had to deal with.
Sammy caught up with her. “Your four-top is done with their lobsters and wants to know about dessert.”
“I’ll get to them as soon as I can.”
“I can clear the table for you if you want.”
“That would be awesome! Thanks Sammy!”
The chowder table needed their salads. The oyster table needed the same.
Dessert would have to wait a minute.
She threw the salads together and splashed some of the house dressing on them and went on her way.
Appetizers cleared, salads delivered, she took dessert menus to the four-top and promised to bring them coffee.
Taking a deep breath, she went to deal with Lucien and Hope.
“Are you ready to order?” She smiled so big her face hurt.
“Yes.” Lucien pursed his lips “The oysters. What kind are they?”
Really Lucien? Oh please. “I’m not sure. I can find out.”
“Please. How is the monkfish served?”
That she knew. “As a kabob, with peppers, mushrooms, and onions on a bed of rice pilaf with the vegetable of the day.”
“Which is?”
“A summer squash and zucchini mélange.”
“Where did the vegetables come from?” The perennial question from Hope. Angelique wanted to tell her “the ground.”
But instead: “I don’t know but I can find out.”
“Thank you.”
They both looked at her with eyes full of expectation. No, change that. Lucien looked at her with the same look in his eyes when he put bait worms in her underwear drawer that lifetime ago on the bayou.
Why couldn’t she have been an only child?
“I’ll be right back,” is what she said instead.
She imagined they were going to run her ragged all night and she guessed she had it coming. Still
“I hear Lucien Durand is seated in your section. Is it true?” Alma pounced on her the minute she walked into kitchen.
“Yep. Lucien Durand in the flesh. He’s got a few questions.”
“Oh my God! What does he want to know?”
“What kind of oysters are we serving?”
“Taunton Bay. What else?”
“Where does the produce come from?”
“I don’t know! I take whatever my supplier gives me.”
“I’ll just say from area farmers.” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t lied to Lucien and Hope before.
“Anything else?”
“I don’t think so.”
“God, I’m going to have a kitten and a half. Lucien Durand!”
Yep, Angelique thought as she left the kitchen. A kitten and a half.
And she wondered why he and Hope had come to Lobster Cove. She guessed she’d find out.
****
“So, did he like his meal?” Alma looked about ready to crawl out of her skin.
“Yes.” Lucien hadn’t hated it, Angelique thought. “He thought it was lovely.”
“Do they want dessert?”
“Yes. A Blueberry Pie à la mode and an Indian Pudding.” Although Lucien had taken exception to the fact that the ice cream wasn’t made on the premises.
“That’s good. Tell him dessert is on the house.”
“Will do.”
She prepared and plated the desserts and took them out.
“Here you go! Indian Pudding and Blueberry Pie. Would you like your coffee topped up?”
“Yes, please,” Lucien said. “Hope?”
Hope nodded. “Please.”
“Coming up. Why are you here?”
“I’m checking up on you.” Lucien picked up his dessert fork.
“I’m fine. I’m good.”
“Not bored?”
“I’m too tired to be bored.” She decided not to mention her sexy next-door neighbor. But“Where are you and Hope staying tonight?”
“With you, at the summer house. Is that a problem?” Lucien skewered her with a glance.
“Uh, no. Of course not. It’s your cottage after all.” She mentally counted how many clean towels she had. She hoped Tim would stay home tonight. She didn’t want Lucien to know about him yet. Time to change the subject.
“Chef Alma knows you’re out here and is off-the-wall excited. Is it okay if she comes out to say hello?”
“Of course.”
“Awesome.” Angelique smiled. “I’ll let her know and get your coffee.”
To her way of thinking, Lucien and Hope were here to do more than check up on her. She was on pins and needles until they let loose with it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tim missed Angelique. He looked down at his dog.
Chester missed Angelique, too.
The two of them were just pitiful. They needed to get a grip. The grip kept slipping beyond their grasp.
As much as a dog had a grasp.
In his upstairs office, he saw the glare of headlights turning into Angelique’s driveway. Finally. She was home.
He stood and went to the window facing her cottage.
Angelique wasn’t alone. Actually, was Angelique even there? A tall dark-haired man and a very petite red-haired woman got out of the car.
Well, this was interesting.
He ignored the stab of panic the sight gave him. Who were those people?
Chester erupted in a barrage of sharp barks, the kind he used when someone came to the door. Tim hurried down to find out who was there.
He opened his door to find a very frazzled Angelique on his porch.
“Can I come in for a minute? I can’t stay long.”
He stepped back to let her in. “Does it have something to do with the two people who just went into your house?”
“Yeah.” She blushed and looked down at the floor.
“Okay.” He closed the door. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but they’re my brother and sister-in-law come to check up on me. So, can you, damn this is hard.” She swallowed. “My brother has a problem with me and the men I date. He wants me to find who I really am and what I want to do for the rest of my life, something that doesn’t involve a man.”
He knew where this was headed. “So?”
“It’s nothing about you, it’s about me. So, can you stay away for a couple of days? Just until Lucien is gone?”
A ball of rusty nails lodged in his throat. He harrumphed around it. “Why? Because I’m damaged goods?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. Bottom line, Lucien can be a jerk about me and men. Please don’t get mad. I’d tell him if I knew he wouldn’t blow a gasket.”
He felt the bones of his spine stiffen and line up. “Of course. If that’s the way you want it.”
“I don’t want it that way; it’s just that it has to be that way for now.” She raised her hand to touch his cheek.
He flinched. He didn’t mean to, he just did.
She dropped her hand. “I’m sorry. Please understand.”
“Sure. You better go. Your brother is probably wondering where you are.”
She sighed. “Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
He didn’t move until she was out the door.
Chester whined and pushed his muzzle against Tim’s leg. “Well, big guy, looks like it’s just you and me.”
“Woof.”
“I couldn’t have said it any better, buddy, couldn’t have said it an
y better.”
****
“That was very sweet of you to say all those nice things to Alma. I think you made her day.” Angelique poured boiling water into a teapot. “Her year even.”
Lucien merely shrugged. “The bisque was excellent.”
“The inn is in a great location,” Hope said. “And I’m happy that Alma is going local when she can.”
Or maybe not so much. That thing about the vegetables? Yeah. What Hope didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “The local seafood is very good.”
“The Taunton Bay oysters were a revelation. I might explore getting them for L’Enfer Addington.”
Hope rolled eyes. “There are plenty of local oysters you could use.”
He patted her leg. “You’re so cute.”
Angelique sighed. “Why are you here, Lucien?”
“I haven’t heard from you in a couple of weeks and I was worried about how things were going.”
“You mean you want to make sure I’m not screwing up.” She realized her fists were clenched by her side and made a concerted effort to relax them.
“No. I think you’re done with that all on your own. And I do have to say that I was very impressed by how you kept going on with a smile on your face even though there were things going wrong.”
“Alma said it was your first dinner shift as a waitress.” Hope smiled.
“They only gave me a four table section until I can get into the groove.”
“I’d let you work for me,” Hope told her.
Okay. That was laying it on too thick. Hope hated her and for good reason, the biggest one being Shane Baker, her sous-chef and Angelique’s last victim. She’d treated him dreadfully. No way. Hope wanted her to work with Shane. “Wow. Thank you.” Still, you didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“It’s hard work, ma soeur,” Lucien said. “And you did a good job.” He loosened his tie. “What about the rest of your life? Making any friends?” He frowned. “I’m afraid you’re spending too much time hiding out on your own.
And there it was. Her brother asking her if she was making time with a guy or two when she wasn’t slinging hash. Okay. It was expensive hash, but hash nonetheless. But they wanted to know about the people she’d met? Jeff and Beth totally fit the bill. “I have actually. There’s a couple here who actually grew up in Addington.”
Hope leaned forward. “Oh, who?”
“Beth and Jeff Myers.” No way Hope could know either of them, right? “Is the tea ready yet?”
Hope looked at her watch. “Yeah, I think it’s steeped enough. I’ll pour.” Hope brought the teapot to the table and poured two cups, one for her, one for Hope.
Lucien Durand did not drink tea. He wanted black coffee, strong enough to strip paint off the walls.
“So how did you meet Jeff and Beth? I know Jeff, of course, since he worked for me on some catering gigs back in the day.” Hope continued as she poured. “I never met Beth, but I know Andi Kelly sings her praises from dawn ’til dusk.”
“Who’s Andi Kelly?”
Lucien’s face turned to stone. “You know her brothers. Buck and Brock Nelson.”
“Oh.” In that case, to hell with Andi Kelly. Shivers ran up her spine at even the mention of the twins’ names, pansy ass bitches that they were. Time to change the subject. “Beth is very nice. We’ve had lunch at Maggie’s Diner.”
Lucien cocked an eyebrow. “How’s the food there?”
She sighed. Lucien never disappointed. “It’s good for a diner. But,” Angelique chuckled, “they’ve something they call a Lobster Burger on a toasted brioche that’s very nice.”
Now Lucien leaned forward. “What’s it like?”
“It’s fresh lobster with a loose breading, and lime pickled jalapeños. Since my palate is deficient, I couldn’t pick out any other flavors.”
“Lime pickled jalapeños.” He looked at Hope as if Angelique wasn’t in the room. “What do you think?”
Hope stirred what passed for sugar in Angelique’s kitchen in her tea. “I think we’re going to stop at Maggie’s Diner for lunch tomorrow.”
Which begged the question: “How long are you staying?” Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?
“I persuaded Hope to take a few days off and check out the seafood up here. She also wants to do some winery tours.”
“A couple of days, anyway,” Hope said as she blew over her steaming cup of tea. “I’ve got to get back. Shane is good, but he’s not me.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring him up.”
“It’s fine.” She swallowed then took a deep breath. “I was the dumper, not the dumpee.” In for a penny, in for a pound. “I treated Shane dreadfully and I don’t have an excuse. Shane’s a good guy, he deserves better than the likes of me.”
A silence bomb exploded in the room.
Hope cleared her throat. “He’s seeing someone else now. A new waitress who works for me and who tends bar at The End Zone.” The End Zone was a sports bar in Addington.
“And I thank God for it every day.” Lucien took a sip of the bourbon he was drinking.
Hope laughed. “I’ll worry once you start to wear garish shirts.”
A wave of regret swamped Angelique. Back when she’d dated Shane, she’d done everything she could do to get him to forget the loud, often tacky shirts. He’d held firm.
Now she knew that you couldn’t always tell about a man by the way he dressed.
Hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
Hope snapped her fingers. “You know what? I remember Jeff’s best friend Tim Baldwin. I catered a lot of events at the Baldwin’s home. Boy, there was a lot of money there. They had a huge house, almost a mansion, and if memory serves me well, they even had a beach house in Maine.” Her eyes widened. “Right here in Lobster Cove. That’s how we found out about this house.”
Aw, crap.
“It appears to be a very small world,” Lucien said.
And getting smaller all the time. “I’ve met Tim.”
Lucien snorted. “That’s where you were when we first got here, n’est-ce pas? Warning him about us? What don’t you want us to know?”
“Oh dear, Lucien,” Hope said before Angelique could answer. “This guy is the photojournalist from Addington who got kidnapped by ISIS. The one who got rescued right before he got beheaded? Remember? I told you all about him. T.L. Baldwin.”
Angelique stood and went to her bedroom where she’d last put Tim’s book. The best way to know Tim was to look at his pictures. She hugged it to her chest as she brought it to show her brother.
She handed it to Lucien. “This is Tim Baldwin.”
He took the book from her while Hope went to look over his shoulder. She gasped as they uncovered the first image.
Lucien turned the pages in silence. He stopped and lingered on some of them. Angelique had known him all her life and had never seen him so still, so engrossed. She almost thought he’d stopped breathing.
Hope sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes.
“You okay there, pichouette?” Lucien closed the book and tilted his head to see her.
Hope nodded. “The pictures are so tragic and so beautiful at the same time.”
“Oui.” He sat in silence for a moment then flicked a glance to Angelique. “Why didn’t you want us to meet him?”
“Well, geez, Lucien! You’ve only hated every man I’ve ever been involved with. Tim is different.” Her palms began to itch and she clenched them in front of her. “I didn’t want to take the chance this early on that I’m dating him.”
“Ah. I see.” He gave Hope the book and stood facing Angelique. “Ma petite. I have loved you from the moment you were born. Perhaps even before that. All I have ever wanted is your happiness.” He gathered her hands in between his own. “It makes me sad to think that you will still hide your life from me. I understand about the past, but I thought that time was over.”
Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t that. “Luci
en“
“Shhh. I’m not finished. I’m proud of you. But you’re still my baby sister and I still have to look out for you. Tim Baldwin has eyes to see and skill on how to bring it to life via the camera. He’s a very brave man. Does he know about your problems?”
Angelique nodded. “Oui. He knows. He’s also got problems of his own. His ordeal in Iraq has taken away his ability to take pictures. We’re quite the pair. A former supermodel who won’t let anyone take pictures of her and a photographer who can no longer take pictures.”
“I hope there’s a way to meet him before we go back to Addington.”
“He lives next door. I’m sure it can be arranged.” However. “You’ll be nice to him, won’t you?”
Lucien gave her a grin that would make a shark proud. “Mais oui. Of course.”
Angelique had seen that smile before, usually right before he did something to tease her. “I mean it. Be good.”
“I’m always good.”
Giving into impulse, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. Tears built up behind her eyelids. “Of course you are. And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tim threw Chester’s slobbery tennis ball across the beach. “Go get it, buddy! Go get it!”
The dog took off at a furious pace, chasing after that ball. Tim would usually be amused but not today.
Not today.
He’d gotten no sleep if you didn’t take the couple of times he’d briefly nodded off into account. At least he hadn’t had any nightmares.
Chester bounded back with the shabby ball in his mouth then dropped it at Tim’s feet. He sat on the sand, tongue lolling out of his mouth, one ear up one ear down, his stump of a tail wagging for all it was worth.
“Okay buddy.” Tim picked up the ball and tossed it again down the beach. “Go get it!”
Chester ran off after the ball, sand churning in his wake.
“That’s some dog you got there, him.”
Tim looked over to the man standing on Angelique’s back patio. Her older brother, the great Lucien Durand. Man.
“Yeah, he’s pretty awesome.”
Lucien had dark hair, the color of Angelique’s. His arms were ripped, probably from hefting all those heavy pots and pans. He held a steaming mug of coffee, if Tim didn’t miss his guess. Even dressed casually in jeans and a designer polo shirt, the man was the poster child for wealthy, powerful men.
