“He said he was going to make us more money.”
Rene put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Charles lies. He’s desperate to take me down, and when he realizes he can’t handle the company, he’ll make a grab for as much cash as he can get. You have to be careful and not let him use you twice. Now I need to go and talk to Roberta. After I’m done here, I can talk to Louis and my mom. I’ll make sure he knows that you confessed so he wouldn’t be blamed.”
“He’s a good man. I can’t let him hang out to dry.” Gabriel seemed to stand taller now that he’d unburdened himself. “I didn’t expect you to react like this.”
Oddly, Rene felt lighter, too. When truly faced with a choice, he’d decided to be merciful. Maybe he’d learned more than sacrifice from his parents.
Maybe he should be merciful with himself.
“You’re going to be all right, Gabriel. Call me next week and we’ll have lunch while I still have a company credit card.” He wouldn’t soon. He wouldn’t have a job at all, and maybe that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Charles would not be forgiven so easily. Gabriel was in a bad position and hadn’t known a way out. Charles didn’t need a way out. He still had all his family money. He had a good job and a wife and children, and it wasn’t enough for him.
He moved toward the back of the house, and when he turned the corner, Harry Jefferys was there, his son at his side. Luc was grinning up at him, though he stayed close to his dad.
“Hey, Rene. Come on in. The party’s in the back. We were getting worried you wouldn’t show.” Harry moved to let him in. “You know we appreciate the business, but damn, man, your aunt makes mine look low-maintenance.”
As Harry’s aunt was Celeste Beaumont, who for years had been known as the wicked witch of Papillon Parish—though definitely not to her face—that was saying something. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Harry reached down and lifted Luc up. “No worries. We’re used to high-maintenance guests, and Sera’s gotten pretty good at dealing with different dietary restrictions. Her gluten-free bread is not inedible.”
Luc wrinkled his nose. “I like regular bread.”
Sera strode in, an empty tray in her hand. “Hey, I need someone to refill the punch bowl. I know we were told none of the women consume sugar, but they down rum punch like it’s going out of style.” She stopped and breathed an obvious sigh of relief. “You’re here. I’m so glad.” She frowned suddenly. “Though you are going to have to work hard with Hallie.”
He winced. He should have known that story would make the rounds. “I fully intend to apologize to Ms. Rayburn.”
“She’s eyeing a new car seat,” Harry said with a chuckle. “You don’t have to work too hard. Hallie is easily swayed by gifts. I’ll get the punch and then I’m going to take this one up and get his bedtime started.”
“And then come back down,” Sera said with a smile that had no amusement behind it. “The dragon lady is happier when she’s got a pretty man to look at.”
Harry winced but walked off toward the back porch anyway.
“I’ve found the secret to working with your aunt,” Sera said, moving to the kitchen. “She prefers to deal with men. Apparently other women are emotional and moody and shouldn’t be asked to make big decisions because they might be on their periods. Except for Marcelle. Marcelle walks on water. Would it be wrong if I asked Marcelle to scare the crap out of your aunt by having the cards tell her if she’s not nice to me, something terrible will happen?”
Given what he’d done to Sylvie, he suspected Marcelle had other targets she would rather put a whammy on. “Roberta will be gone by Tuesday. She won’t stay after the vote is over. I’m sorry it’s been a pain. Is she on the back porch?”
He could hear country music playing, but it wasn’t modern country, likely in deference to his aunt’s deep belief that all music had gone to hell after 1989. He heard Dolly Parton give way to Willie Nelson’s “Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground.”
“Yeah, they’re all back there. And good luck with your wife. She’s not happy with you,” Sera said over her shoulder. “But she looks fabulous.”
He felt his whole body go tight. Sylvie was here? Why was Sylvie here? He moved with purpose now because he didn’t want Charles to think Sylvie was here to break their deal. He was practically jogging by the time he reached the wide floor-to-ceiling doors that Sera had slid open to form a huge party space by the pool.
He stopped, his breath utterly taken away.
Sylvie stood by the pool, a glass of champagne in her hand. She wore a snowy white cocktail dress, her hair in its natural curl around that stunning face of hers. She was talking to one of his cousins and then she turned, and her face lit in a spectacular smile.
And nothing else mattered. Not the childhood that taught him to sacrifice. Not the pressure he’d been under. Not the fact that he could lose it all.
If he had her, he had the whole world.
He watched the moment she realized he was here because that smile faded, and a stubborn look hit her eyes.
She wasn’t thinking about how much he could cost her. She wasn’t thinking about what would happen if he lost his high-and-mighty position. No. His wife was pissed that he’d been a dumbass and walked out on her.
She put her champagne glass down, and Rene knew everyone was watching but he didn’t care.
He never followed his impulses. He’d been trained to follow rules rather than instincts, but he was done with that.
It was a gorgeous night, and she was everything to him and always had been. The rest didn’t matter. He moved past everyone else, didn’t bother to reply to the people who called out his name, didn’t have eyes for anyone but her.
Before she could start what would likely be a long lecture, he wrapped his arms around her and brought her close.
“Forgive me.”
He felt a shudder go through her. “Rene . . . of course. Of course.”
He had so much to tell her, but he would start with the most important thing. “I love you, Sylvie. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I didn’t think I knew what the words meant, but I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’m sorry I let too many things come between us, including my pride.”
She pulled back enough that he could see her crying. She cupped his cheeks. “I love you, too. You cannot walk out on me like that ever again.”
“Never. I promise you.” He drew her close and he could breathe again. He swayed to the music, the rest of the world falling away. He didn’t dance with her enough. When all this was over, he would take her to Guidry’s when they had a band playing, and they would drink and dance with her friends. He would make her his highest priority.