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by Olivia Rigal


  I stop and look at Marc expectantly. He shakes his head and asks, "So you like the place we saw yesterday better?"

  "No doubt in my mind, the other one requires only minor work. It could be done in less than two months. There's just some rethinking of the decor and maybe some retraining of the staff. I think it has a lot going for it and I sure can't understand why they went under."

  "I'm glad you feel that way because I purchased it this morning and you're starting the renovation on Monday. Of course you need to finish the renovation and start it running before your due date. Do you think you can do that?"

  I swallow my emotions and say, "Yes, Marc. Thank you. I won't let you down." At the same time I cradle my tummy with my hands and send a silent prayer to my baby. Honey, don't you even consider coming early.

  I can't believe I am so lucky. Not only did Marc agree to give me chance when I was so very young but he's kept promoting me and never batted an eye when I told him I was expecting. The most amazing thing is that for sentimental reasons, his corporation is subject to French law and that he's applying French law rules to his American employees.

  For most of those I work with, the down side of this is that we get paid monthly instead of weekly. I never had a pay check before he hired me so I don't see what the big deal about this monthly pay is, but it seems it takes some getting used to for a lot of people who were used to get their money at the end of each week.

  But no one really complains too much because we also have a health plan, three weeks paid vacation, and the cherry on my cake, a month fully paid maternity leave. You've gotta love the French and their protective laws!

  I decline Marc's offer to drop me home. It will do me good to walk a few blocks before I get to the apartment and crash. Ten wants to take me out to go celebrate my 18th birthday but I'm too tired I would rather stay home with my boys. I can't believe that I'm only nineteen. Nineteen and pregnant again. Sounds like the title of those horrible novellas they gave away at Sunday school to make us fear temptation. Well I got tempted and I sinned and I'm not repentant.

  I haven't heard from Alex in many months. I have made Andrew promise that he wouldn't tell him about the pregnancy. Ten drove the point home by telling him that if he lets it slip, he's out in the street. Since there's no way our favorite police officer could find such nice accommodations for the price he's paying, his family loyalty is no longer a top priority. There's more than one way to understand that charity really begins at home.

  It takes me forever to get back and when I finally do, I'm greeted by the most delicious smell. This is great since I barely touched what was served in that restaurant from hell. If the restaurant's dining room is dirty, chances are the kitchen is not very clean either.

  I kick of my shoes and tiptoe barefoot in the kitchen. Oliver and Ten are cooking. Oliver's latest conquest is sitting on the counter top with a glass of wine in her hand giving them instruction on how to destroy the lumps of their gravy. Wow, they're making gravy? I have this sudden craving for a mashed potato volcano with a spoonful of gravy lava. What's wrong with me? I use to have sexual fantasies, now I have food cravings. I'm eighteen pushing sixty.

  Three pairs of eyes turn to me as I step in and Ten asks, "So?"

  I pull from behind my back the bottle of Champagne that I purchased on the way home and say, "Yes! I got the promotion. You are now talking to the new Marc Martin Restaurant Extraordinaire property manager and," I pause for effect, "I got a new property to put in shipshape before mid November."

  They all cheer loudly and Ten says, "Congratulations, Lovey."

  Oliver takes the handle of the saucepan from Ten's hand and starts giving a serious beating to the mixture. I think it works. The lumps are so intimidated by his natural authority that they vanish. Ten applauds in awe of such culinary talent and Babe scoots down from the counter to go stand very close behind Oliver. She slides her hands into his front pockets and I look away. I know precisely what she's doing and it's not fishing for spare change. I hope she doesn't get Oliver so distracted that he'll let the gravy burn.

  Ten bends over to speak to my belly, "Now baby, you're gonna be real good and you're gonna stay put till the due date."

  As the two of us, well three I guess if I count baby, get out of the kitchen. I laugh and ask, "How do you like being a father figure?"

  He grins. "I can't wait and that's something I want to talk to you about."

  "Can we talk in my room, I'd like to put my feet up?"

  "Sure. I'll be with you in a minute."

  I plop on my bed with my butt on one pillow and my feet high on the headboard. I close my eyes and start to devise a battle plan in my head for the work that's to start Monday on the new place. I've been first assistant for renovation on the past three projects. I should be able to make it work. In a perfect world I should be able to reopen during the first week of November so I'll shoot for that and give myself two weeks of wiggle room. I would really like a few days to rest before I'm due.

  Ten walks into my room, laughs at my position and sits down next to me, his butt on the other pillow and his back to the headboard so we look at one other.

  "This is not how I had planned to do this but I guess I'll have to rough it," he jokes. "Lyv Wild," he says. I'm startled. He never calls me anything other than Lovey. This must be serious. "Will you marry me?"

  He presents to me a little jewelry box. Inside there's an exquisite ring with a blue stone encased between two small diamonds. I recognize the ring, Ten's grandmother used to wear it. I'm so stunned, I don't know what to say. I bring my legs down on the bed and kind of kneel in front of him. I look at the ring again and then at his face and try to make sense of what I've just heard.

  "Lovey, it's not some crazy idea that just crossed my mind," he explains. "I've been toying with it for a while. Actually it was Granny who planted the seed."

  "Granny?" The woman's been dead for ages.

  "Yep, when I started fooling around with girls and brought them home to make my father and grandfather happy, she asked me what I was doing. First I wondered if she thought I was favoring men and was wondering why I was not coming out. Still I was not sure it was what she meant. She was a liberal and all, she did have a couple of gay acquaintances like her hair dresser and the decorator she hired to furnish the model homes when she was in charge of sales of the Clark homes, but I could not believe she would be okay with a bisexual grandson. Anyway, just to make sure, I asked her," he smiles sweetly as he remembers the conversation.

  "She said that she did not understand why I was fooling around when I had already found you. According to her, you were the perfect girl for me. She said that she understood that maybe I was not in love with you and that I loved you as a friend but according to her that was perfect. She said a marriage based on trust and friendship would actually be more solid and last longer than one initially based on passion."

  I have fond memories of the old lady and I knew she liked me but I had no idea she thought so highly of me. "I have to think about this," I say.

  "Fair enough."

  I bounce the idea of being Mrs. Clark around my head. It springs one major question. "What kind of marriage are we talking about?"

  Ten understands what I'm asking perfectly. "A real one, Lovey. If you'll let me, I will start by being the father to this little one," he gently puts a hand on my belly, "and then, in a few years, when you're ready, I would like for us to have more."

  He slides down to take me in his arms and continues, "You'll move to my bedroom and we'll convert this one into a nursery. We can get an au pair to take care of the baby when you go to work and then we could ask Andrew to move out to make a room for the next baby and then again, when Oliver graduates, we'll have another room for yet another baby." Ten's given this a lot of thought and already has it all planned while I'm still grasping at straws trying to look at my best friend in this new light.

  "Of course, if the good doctor doesn't finally get settled with someone, we'll
have to make sure he doesn't bother the au pair girls..." he jokes.

  "So we'll be lovers?" I ask. I know it's silly because if we don't there won't be any babies but I still need to ask.

  "We will," he says and adds, "I'll have to figure out how to do it right for you."

  "That's silly," I say punching him lightly, "you've been with girls before."

  "Yes but I didn't really care for their needs at all. I was very selfish in bed," I gasp. My heart goes out to those poor girls.

  "I don't want to do that with you. I want to make you happy. I want to hear you moan and scream louder than you did it with Xander when he lived with us."

  I'm turning red. Was I really that loud that all the guys listened in? I guess I was. "What about men?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "At some point you'll probably want a man again, don't you think?" I say.

  "Probably but if you can resist Xander when he comes back, I should be able to resist men."

  "He won't be coming back," I protest.

  "Oh yes he will." Ten makes it sound like it's a done deal, like Alexander's return is as certain as the return of the tides or the seasons. "In his own twisted way he does love you, you know. The second he hears that you've agreed to marry me and that you are sleeping in my bed, he'll come running back for you."

  He may have a point. Little boys can be very possessive about their toys. Even those they no longer wish to play with. Because the toy's been discarded doesn't mean that someone else can play with it.

  "Mark my words. Your turning him away will make him even crazier about you. It may be hard on you," Ten says. Yes it will. Just thinking about Alexander hurts.

  "I'm the best man for you, Lovey. We've been a pair for the longest time. You know that you can rely on me and that I will never let you down. You know I love you. I'll be a good father for our children and that includes Eve if we ever find her."

  I think about it and try to look at Ten in this new light he's casting on himself. "If I marry you," I say, "we'll have to be brutally honest with one another. No lying, no cheating. If I commit to you I will never go back on my word but I will ask the same of you. If it ever becomes too hard for you, I want you to tell me before you stumble so we can work it out or set each other free."

  "So you'll think about it?"

  "Yes I will. You need to give me some time to get used to the idea. I'll tell you in November, after my opening night. Is that okay for you?"

  "Sure. Will you let me cheat a little to help you warm up to the concept?" he asks sheepishly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Will you let me kiss you?"

  "Why would that be cheating?" I ask amused.

  "Because I've been told I'm an amazing kisser."

  He's grinning and I can't help but laugh. "I don't know about kissing yet," I say "but I already know you're going to be an amazing lawyer. You just sold me on the kissing. Now I'm dying to know what I've been missing out on all those years."

  Ten leans me back on the bed and finds a comfortable position next to me. He adjusts his long frame around my round belly and when his lips get close to mine I close my eyes. The entire concept of Ten kissing me like a lover is so foreign it's mind boggling.

  What's even more startling is that his kiss is not gentle. Where Alex was a tender explorer in awe of discovering unchartered territories, Ten is a conqueror scorching the earth on his way. He bites my lower lip and then as a king warrior takes possession of my mouth with his. There's nothing tentative about his kiss. He's taking charge and it's so overwhelming that when he pulls away I draw a gasping breath.

  "This is who I am in the bedroom. I'm generous but I'm also very demanding and bossy and direct. If you say yes, I expect you to surrender to me."

  I look at this new side of Ten I've never seen before. I'm in shock. Good shock.

  He looks at me intently and explains, "Out of bed you'll remain my best friend. We'll be partners and you'll own my soul. In bed, I'll be your boss and you'll be my plaything."

  I gasp. God, I don't know what's with me. I think his bossy nature is sexy. This could work. I could learn to love him differently.

  The hard look vanishes from his face and, looking very happy with himself, he gets up walks around the bed and offers his hands to help me stand, "Come on, Lovey, let's go celebrate your promotion. There's roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy and pecan pie."

  "Oh, I so love it when you talk dirty to me," I say and he roars with laughter.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I tackle my project with a new strength. Marc's trust in me is a real booster. I don't want to let him down. Being one year older also helps. Since my return from Florida I was afraid the Bitch would file a missing persons report and that one morning the police would come knocking on our door and that Ten would get in some sort of trouble.

  As the months passed my fears dissipated but now they're completely gone. I'm officially an adult in charge of my own life. It's exhilarating. Of course this is not the life I had planned but who gets to live that life. Well, Oliver maybe. He always wanted to be a doctor and that's what he's going to be.

  But I'm going to be okay even if I never go to college because Marc is giving me a better education in restaurant management than the one I could have received at any school. It's totally hands on and, instead of spending thousands of dollars to get instructed I'm getting a pay check and health benefits. What more could a girl want?

  My life is good. I shudder. The last time I had such positive feeling Alexander walked out on me. I shrug my shoulders and chase my dark thoughts away. My life is good and it will stay good because I have Ten by my side.

  I gather my crew and tell them about my plan for the renovation. I have a dozen guys working for me this week, all recruited by Marc. Ten jokes about my team. He says even if he were the jealous type, he wouldn't be worried about what could happen to me at work. If one of the guys takes my dress off it will be to try it on he says. He's exaggerating but he's not totally wrong.

  My boss is not simply gay, he's flamboyantly so. He's totally unapologetic about it. I'm not sure if it's his French upbringing or the incredible success he achieved at a young age but it's like he doesn't care what people think, while at the same time, part of his success is tied to his image. Somehow his bubbling and extreme personality makes it work. So Marc strongly favors hiring gay men and claims that gay construction workers are the best because they have the strength of a man and the attention to detail of a woman.

  This makes for a closely knitted community and the work atmosphere is so intimate that I actually know that two of the guys in my crew are into crossdressing. Yet I very much doubt they would be interested in trying on a maternity dress!

  The guys start pulling the horrible velvet from the wall while I sit at a corner table studying the place's accounting. At the end of the day, the walls are stripped bare, ready for a nice shiny coat of washable paint, and I know why the place went under while it had almost everything going for it.

  The staff has been robbing the owner blind. The numbers on the books for the last two years don't match the results of the last three weeks and the only thing that changed during those weeks was that we had the restaurant under close supervision with one of Marc's people at the cash register and Marc supervising the orders. During those weeks it was impossible for anybody to doctor the orders and the receipts, obviously the way they did before.

  There's more than thirty percent difference in the results! A close examination shows that the numbers for the bar have not changed significantly so I know it's the cook and the headwaiter who were in cahoots. They probably had private deals with the suppliers. No wonder the poor guy filed for bankruptcy and had to sell his restaurant. Those two employees have to go.

  Now whether they should go to jail for this is a totally different kettle of fish. Marc will decide if he wants to give this information to his seller or to the D.A. Yep, sending some one to jail is way over my pay grade. Bac
k home, I talk about this with Ten. He agrees with me. This is not my responsibility.

  For once Oliver and Andy are on the same schedule as we are. The four of us have dinner and Andy raises his hand like a schoolboy requesting permission to speak. We stop talking and look at him.

  He blushes a little and seems to hesitate so I ask. "Did you register for the sergeant's exam?"

  He shakes his head.

  "You passed the sergeant's exam?"

  He shakes his head again.

  "Enough. Spit it out," Oliver says. I laugh because he has zero patience. Maybe he spends his entire quota at work and has none left for us at home.

  "Alexander called."

  Ten glares at Andy and the silence is deafening until Ten hisses something that I don't catch between clenched teeth. Andy ignores him and continues, "He'll be back in town next month and he'll be one of the guest stars at the annual Smart and Sharp charity concert on November 8th."

  "Good for him," I say. That means that in two years he's become a real star.

  "Yeah, it's cool, right?" Andy says. "Anyway he wanted to know if we would come. He said we'd have VIP access and backstage passes. You know, all the works."

  Ten bangs a fist on the table and growls, "You've got to be kidding." I can't figure out if Ten's really mad or if he's just trying to convince Andrew that he's mad hoping that he'll convey the message to Alexander. I don't think I've ever seen him that way.

  I put my hands on Ten's arm, "Shush, you've awoken the baby." In a second I have three pairs of hands on my tummy feeling the baby kicking.

  Andy smiles and takes his best Irish accent to say, "Hey Lass, you've got a soccer player in there."

  Ten says, "I'm rooting for a ballerina."

  "What's your expert medical opinion?" I ask Oliver.

  He laughs, "You're not getting me in the middle of this but whatever it is, this is healthy kicking."

  Now that I have Ten calmed down I say to Andy, "Thank Alexander for me but tell him that I won't go. November 8th is the tentative opening date for my restaurant."

 

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