by Doreen Alsen
And just like that, the other shoe dropped.
“Shane,” Angelique murmured.
****
The only thing to fix her current reality, Angelique thought, was for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. How stupid could she be?
Let’s go to Hope’s, she’d said. Compliment her cooking. Lucien will love it, she’d said.
Living in Lobster Cove had totally lulled her into a false sense of security. Angie Doucette was accepted, even though she was a stranger. Here, in Addington, where her family lived, everybody judged every breath she took.
Then there was Shane, still tall and blond surfer boy handsome, still no taste in clothes.
Still in full possession of his knight in shining armor complex.
“Angelique?”
Sighing, she met Shane’s gaze. “Hi Shane.”
“How are you?” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Fine. How are you?”
Tim moved closer to her and put one hand underneath her elbow and offered the other to Shane to shake. “Hi. I’m Tim Baldwin.”
Shane’s eyes shifted briefly to where Tim had touched her then zapped up to Tim’s face. “Shane Baker. You’re that photographer. You know. From Iraq.”
That photographer. Tim shook his head internally. Blondie there was an idiot. “Yeah, I know. I was there.” He turned to Renee. “Can we just find our own way into the bar?”
Renee nodded. “Sure. I’ll go let Hope know you’re here. How many orders of the shrimp puffs do you want?”
“A couple, I guess. One for Jeff and one for Beth.”
“Oh, isn’t that charming,” Katie blurted out. “You might want to tell Beth to lay off the shrimp things. They’re fattening.”
“Are you ready to go, Kate?” The deep voice of the newcomer into the foyer from hell sounded too familiar and definitely scary.
Buck Nelson, the architect of her infamous sex tape and twin brother to her co-star, was in the house.
“Absolutely,” Katie answered him. “Buck, I know you must remember Tim Baldwin from when you coached him, but do you know Angelique Durand?” She lifted her left hand, which sported a sparkly rock the size of Connecticut. “We’re getting married!”
Angelique’s stomach lurched and churned as Buck said, “Yeah, Angelique and I go way back. Good to see you.”
She wished she could say the same thing. “Congratulations. I hope you’ll be very happy.” Far away from her.
Katie peeled her daughter away from Angelique. “Come on, sugar Cookie. Let’s get you home.”
Cookie gave Angelique a quick hug. “Bye, Angie. See you next time I visit Daddy.” She gave Tim a hug as well. “Bye Uncle Tim.”
“Bye, doodle bug.”
Cookie stamped her foot. “I’m not a bug!”
“We need to go now, sugar plum.” Katie took Cookie’s hand. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Tim increased his hold on Angelique’s elbow. “Let’s go to the bar.” He pulled her along with him.
“Hold on.” She hissed the words at him. “Not so fast. I don’t want either Shane or Buck to think I’m running away.”
“Right.” He slowed but his jaw clenched. “This probably wasn’t the best idea we’ve ever had.”
“No kidding.” She sighed. “We’re here now. We just have to tough it out. That peach cobbler better be really good.”
The bar was all oak paneled walls and floors, buffed to a bright sheen. A stone fireplace took over an entire wall. In the winter, it would hold a roaring fire, but not in July. Antique wall sconces glowed with a soft, mellow glow, supplemented by candles in hurricane lamps on each table. Quiet and tasteful New Age and Celtic music flowed from the speakers around the room. The atmosphere was peaceful and romantic.
A waitress with an elfin cap of sunny blonde hair and large eyes a misty color of green came to their table and put out coasters sporting Hope’s logo. “Hi, I’m Faith and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. May I get you anything from the bar?”
Tim adjusted in his seat. “Would you like a drink?” he asked Angelique.
“Oh yeah.” She did want a drink, no doubt about it. “A Bellini, please.”
“A Jameson’s straight up and a Bellini, please,” he told Faith. “Renee’s getting us a couple of to go orders for shrimp puffs, but what’s on the dessert menu tonight?”
Faith held her pencil over her order pad. “Hope made peach cobbler tonight and a minty rose essence ice cream. Of course the peaches are from her trees and the mint and rose petals from her garden.”
“Oh, God.” Angelique had truly forgotten what a genius with pastry Hope was. Her mouth watered. “We’ll take one of each.”
“Coming right up!”
Angelique first watched Faith walk away then turned her attention to Tim. “Sorry about that mess in the foyer. I really didn’t think we’d run into Shane.”
“Totally not your fault. You couldn’t have predicted he’d show up while we were there. I mean, I’m good with it as long as you’re okay.”
“I am.” She nodded.
“And there was no way I could have known Katie would be here with Buck Nelson. Jesus. I’m so sorry. Just one look at him made me want to punch his lights out.”
“He has that effect on people. Don’t worry about it. To tell the truth, I was every kind of stupid and felt flattered by it at the time. I mean, sex tapes put both Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian on the map.” She shook her head. “Between the two of them, they have the brain of a turnip. Back then, I guess I suffered from turnip brain syndrome, too, since while I felt violated, I also enjoyed everybody knowing my name. Pitiful, isn’t it.”
“You were young, it’s done. Let’s live in the now.” Tim rested his forearms on the table. “We’ve got dessert coming that sounds insanely good. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten rose petals.”
“Really,” she said, like everyone ate rose petals every day. He shook his head.
“Yeah. When Hope catered my parents’ parties, she always put flowers on for decoration. I didn’t know you could eat them.”
She felt the first smile of the night spread across her face. “Who knew? But, really, when Luce and Hope were just getting together, she made him a rose petal dessert and blew him away.”
“Your brother doesn’t strike me as easily impressed.”
“Here are your drinks,” Faith stepped up to the table and placed the Bellini on the napkin in front of Angelique and the whiskey in front of Tim. “Hope knows you’re here and will bring out your desserts when they’re ready.”
“Thank you so much,” Angelique said. “This looks absolutely perfect.”
“I know how you like your Bellinis, so I gave the bartender a hand.” Shane also came up to the table.
Faith stumbled clumsily to get away. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She high-tailed it out of there.
Shane frowned for one second as he watched the pretty little waitress leave. “I just want to say that I’m glad to see you looking good. I did worry after I heard the whole story.”
What? “Thank you.” Time to change the subject. “You look good even if I still need to wear sunglasses to look at your outfits.”
He pretended to be offended. “Moi? I have impeccable taste.” He held his hand out to Tim. “I want to let you know how much I was moved by your work. You’re a true hero.”
Tim gripped the table with white knuckles then stood to shake Shane’s hand. “The true heroes are the ones who didn’t come back.”
“We need truth tellers in the world, and you are one of the best.” A crash came from the bar area. Shane sneered. “You couldn’t hire someone who knows how to tend bar could you?” he told Hope as she arrived at the table. “I need to have a talk with Faith. Again.” He stalked away.
Hope sighed. “Don’t mind Shane. He’s been just like a bear with a thorn in his paw for a couple of weeks now.”
Hope put the desserts
on the table and extended her hand to Tim. “Why don’t you sit down.”
They shook hands and Tim sat.
“Whatever is bothering Shane has nothing to do with you.” Hope pulled up a chair and sat with them. “He and Faith have been at each other’s throats for days.”
“I hurt him, Hope.” Angelique used one very shaky hand to pick up her drink.
Hope’s eyes slid over to where Shane argued with Faith. “I think I can safely say that it’s not you causing him problems right now.”
Instead of being insulted and overlooked, she rejoiced in the warm waves of relief that flowed over her. “Thank you.” That’s all she could think of to say.
“You’re welcome. Now, eat up! The cobbler is getting cold and the ice cream is melting.”
Tears pricked Angelique’s eyes, tears of relief for herself and tears of joy for Lucien. He’d found an amazing woman to partner with.
Surprisingly, she wanted the same thing.
And she wanted it with Tim.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“So what do you think?”
Tim waited for his taste bud orgasm to subside before he answered Hope’s question.
He patted his hand against his heart. “I can now die happy.”
“This ice cream is really delicious, Hope,” Angelique said.
Hope beamed. “Glad you like it. I have to say I enjoy watching you eat it.” Her smile dimmed a little. “Now, tell me why you’re here. Lucien called me just before you got here and he spoke more French than English, which happens when he’s upset.” She shrugged. “Or pissed off.”
Angelique winced. “Or both. I don’t suppose you could convince him to stay at L’Enfer.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m surprised he’s not here yet.”
Tim shook his head as he licked the last little bit of rose ice cream off his spoon. The two women really thought Lucien could call the shots.
Tim had other plans. Lucien Durand may be able to get women to dance to his tune. Too bad Durand was going to have to deal with him.
“Well, look at this. My two favorite women in the world.”
Bow down, minion. The magnificent Lucien Durand has entered the house.
Hope rolled her eyes, stood, and went on tiptoes to press a quick kiss to her husband’s cheek. “You’re here even faster than I thought you’d be.”
“I hope there’s still some of that ice cream left. I’m dying to try it.” He went to Angelique. “Ma soeur.” He bent and kissed her cheek.
Tim stood. “Won’t you join us?” Nothing like taking charge of the situation, right?
Lucien turned his head slowly, as if he was drawn to Tim’s gaze like the Enterprise caught in a Klingon tractor beam.
“Tim.”
“Lucien.” He sat back in his chair. “So I imagine you have some questions. I’ll let you know if I’ll answer them.”
“Oh, boy,” Hope said. “Should I go get the first aid kit?”
“Of course not, pichouette. Us, we’re not fighting here. We’re just getting to know each other.”
“In the Gospel according to Lucien, sometimes blood shed is a necessary evil,” Hope said, her tone of voice dry as the Sahara.
“He never changes,” Angelique said. “Lucien, I love you and I can never thank you enough for how you forgave me and supported me, but“
“This isn’t about you,” Lucien told her. “This is all about me getting to know Mr. Pulitzer Prize, King of the Photographers.”
Tim suddenly knew where Lucien was coming from. Lucien worried that he was another user photographer trying to make a meal of Angelique.
Knowledge is power. “It isn’t about you, either. Whatever is between me and Angelique is just thatbetween us. Why don’t you just concentrate on your amazing wife and leave the rest of the world’s love lives alone?”
“You don’t scare easy, you. I admire that,” Lucien said.
“I don’t care if you like me or not, but Angelique is special,” more essential than breathing, “and brother or not, I’m not going to let you interfere in our choices to be together.”
Lucien didn’t look at him, but Tim knew he’d taken control of the conversation, no matter what advantage Angelique’s brother thought he had.
“I’m not done,” Lucien said, tapping the forefinger of his right hand on the table. “You understand that you’ve outed her, vrai? That you’re going to be hounded once you get back to Lobster Cove?”
Angelique frowned. “We’ve been careful. No one can figure out about me living in Maine.”
“Oh.” Hope put her hand in front of her mouth. “Katie and Buck.”
“What about them?” Tim didn’t like the sound of anything involving Katie.
“She knows you’re in Lobster Cove and she’s going to be doing a lot of media now that she and her bastard of a boyfriend are engaged. I wouldn’t put it past her to mention it.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Tim couldn’t see it. “Katie wouldn’t welcome and reference to a connection between Angelique and Buck. It’s all Katie, all the time in Katie Land.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lucien said. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”
Tim cast a glance at Angelique and his heart clenched. Her eyes were focused on the table, her fingers playing with a napkin. The need to protect her rocketed through him. “I can handle anything Katie can dish out.”
Lucien’s lips barely lifted in a dubious smile. “I sure hope you can. You seem like an okay guy.” He grinned. “I’d hate to have to kill you if you let anything happen to my sister.”
“Understood.” No one would feel worse than Tim himself if he couldn’t protect her.
****
“I don’t want you to worry about Katie.”
Angelique sighed as she looked out the window of Tim’s car. They were making the long trip from Addington to Lobster Cove. “I’m not. Seeing Buck was a surprise, but I don’t know Katie from a hole in the wall. I mean, I know about her from Beth but other than that?” She shrugged. “If she’s half as bad as her reputation, then she deserves everything she gets from Buck.” An awful idea hit her. “I feel sorry for Cookie. I hope everything is okay for her.”
“I don’t think much will change. Nelson is on the road with the Rangers for much of the year so he won’t be around her a whole lot.”
“Oh. Yeah, I suppose so.” They’d just crossed the bridge from Portsmouth, New Hampshire into Kittery, Maine. After leaving Hope’s they’d gone back to the Bed and Breakfast and just cuddled together in the big soft sleigh bed in their room.
He understood that she really wasn’t up for sex after seeing Buck, so he’d taken her into his arms and held her close while she slept.
So much of their relationship had been about sizzling hot sex. This new phase seemed from out of a fairy tale, with all the romance and the comfort.
It was so foreign from anything she’d ever known when it came to men.
No. Not true, she admitted. Shane had given her the same kind of attention Tim gave her now. She hadn’t wanted it.
Water under the bridge, she supposed. It had to be. She wished Shane all the happiness in the world. He deserved it.
“It’s a cliché, but a penny for your thoughts.”
She smiled. “Not much. Just that Shane deserves to be as happy as I am right now.”
Tim’s face softened. “You’re happy?”
“Happier than I have a right to be.”
“Me too. Happier than I have a right to be.”
He didn’t play coy and make her admit that he was the reason she was so happy. He was open and honest and didn’t play games with her. She trusted him, trusted him with her whole heart.
For her it was nothing short of a miracle.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“I’ll be right back with your lemon,” Angelique told the party at table 18. “Is there anything else I can bring you?”
Her customers murmur
ed several shades of no and didn’t bother to thank her. What else was new?
As was typical for a late July evening, the inn was full and the dining room packed. She was really proud that she hadn’t gotten into the weeds yet.
Yay!
As she trotted back to the kitchen for 18’s lemons she noticed table 5 had two stylishly dressed, perfectly-coiffed and made up women who were whispering feverishly to each other.
They were staring at her.
Her insides went cold. She’d been recognized.
Every instinct she had told her to go to the kitchen and walk right out the back door and never come back, but she just couldn’t leave Alma, Betts, and Birdie in the breach.
Why had she ever wanted to be famous? Her maman must have just dropped her on her head when she was a baby.
Angelique grabbed the lemon wedges and headed back through the dining room. After delivering them, she headed to clear some salad plates from table 12 but as she’d feared, one of the women waved at her, clearly trying to flag her down.
She had a couple of choices. She could ignore them totally. She could take care of her customers and then go over. She got a minute’s reprieve when table 5’s waitress went to take care of them.
The reprieve didn’t last long. Just after Angelique dumped the dirty salad plates, Christine, table 5’s waitress and the queen of loud, came up to her. “Table 5 thinks you’re a world famous super model. I told them I didn’t think you were but that I’d ask.” She rolled her eyes.
All conversations stopped on a dime. She guessed the jig was up. Angelique sighed and wished she could just disappear. “I don’t model anymore,” she looked around the kitchen, “but I used to. Tell them I’ll be over when I get a chance,” she told Christine. “I’m probably not the person they think I am.”
“I told them your name is Angie Doucette but they seem to think that’s an alias and that you’re Angelique Durand, you know. That model who went to jail and got her face messed up.” Horror creeped slowly across Christine’s face as she looked at Angelique’s scar.
Angelique plodded her way to the kitchen and picked up the dinners for table 12. She left the kitchen with her head held high. After delivering the food, she squared her shoulders, swallowed hard, and made her way to her fans.
