Perhaps it was good to have a short delay. It would be better if she could sleepwalk through the rest of her life. “Great. See you then.”
More voices echoed in the hall, but she didn’t want to see anyone right now.
Tears threatened, then spilled down her face as she couldn’t stop remembering Alex’s gaze—she’d wounded him.
Leaving him physically hurt. No one else in her life had ever made her feel anything. She walked to her closet, to find something that wasn’t black like her soul to say yes to Stefano.
Someone knocked, and she turned around. “Hello?”
Cassidy opened the door. She wasn’t holding her newborn, so Cristian must be with Remington. Chelsea wished her nephew was here because he made her feel something other than abject misery.
Cassidy closed the door and stared at her horrible mess of hair and glanced at the three black dresses tossed on the bed, like she saw right through her. “Chelsea, what are you doing?”
No need to hide the truth. This was it. She wiped her face to ensure it was dry. “I’m picking out my outfit for when I accept Stefano’s proposal.”
“No.” Cassidy’s face drained of color. She walked closer and asked, “The Marchese of Normanni, Stefano Durnovo? I know he’s your friend, but you told me yourself that you’d never match.”
Money didn’t grow on trees. She had no other skills and was always supposed to marry a rich man. This was her fate. She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. He has the means to ensure I’m never poor and will help with our parents.”
“What about Alex?” Cassidy asked. “I thought you had a date this morning.”
The way her sister said Alex’s name made Chelsea cringe. She’d never missed anyone ever, but today… she had no logical reason for her reactions. She let out a sigh and turned toward her wardrobe. “We did. We broke up. It’s fine.”
Cassidy placed her hand on her shoulder and then came to stand beside her. Chelsea refused to cry or break down, not in front of Cassidy. Neither said anything for a few seconds that felt like forever, but her sister broke the silence. “Stefano said he’d help with our parents?”
Stefano wasn’t anything like Cassidy’s Remington, and Chelsea wasn’t going to be delusional about that. Her eyes were open. “Well, not exactly. He told me to name my price and he’d meet it. And he is a man of his word.”
Cassidy tugged her ear, her face red. “And when something happens, and you know our parents, something will happen, will he be generous the second or third time?”
Stop. Her mind immediately raced, and her body grew hot. She flashed toward her sister and snorted. “Cassidy, not all of us get the luxury of marrying our best friend and get the power of a future heir when dealing with their hardships. At least this way if I’m smart with what I take then I can make the money last.”
Cassidy didn’t look at her, but she said in a low voice, “Don’t gamble your future away like this Chelsea. We both swore to never be like our parents.”
No. This wasn’t anything like their father. Her heart raced even faster. Gambling wasn’t something she’d ever done so she pouted, “I’m not our father.”
Neither of them said anything.
Her door swung open and their mother popped her head in. She smiled at them with a peacefulness that Chelsea hadn’t seen in years. “Girls, please come into the living room. Your father has something to share.”
What in the world? Had he won his million dollars back so they were in the clear? Probably not as that never happened. However hope grew in her veins. Her mother’s voice had sounded so happy. Something good happened? Chelsea and Cassidy stared at each other blankly. Chelsea shoved slippers on her feet, and then followed their mother out the door. As she was the last person in the living room, she asked, “Dad, what’s going on? Why do you have suitcases?”
Her father hugged her as Cassidy watched in surprise. Chelsea said nothing as he explained, “I’m checking into the Paris Gambling Centre for the month.”
Wow. Chelsea felt her own body unable to move. For years they’d all prayed he’d get help. Now out of the blue, they were here, and he was going. As he let her go, she met his gaze. “Really, Father? After all this time? You’re finally going.”
He traced her face and stared at her like she was some angel. “I can’t keep putting my girls through my problems.”
“Dad, we love you.” Chelsea didn’t understand why her father stared at her still. They hadn’t talked much yesterday, so she could take no credit for this decision.
Her father squeezed her hand. “I love you too, Chelsea,” He turned and hugged her sister and mother. “And Cassidy, my Francesca.”
Her skin tingled like she’d suddenly received what she truly wanted, in her most secret heart.
“And we’ll take care of everything else, while you’re gone,” their mom said. “You’ll come back a new man.”
Her father turned toward her again. “I don’t want to ruin your future, Chelsea, because of my many mistakes.”
Ruin her future? She hadn’t done anything. She followed him to the door. “Don’t worry, Dad. I will be fine. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye—I can’t wait to dance at your wedding, sweetheart.”
Her wedding? Did he know about Stefano? She hadn’t even told him yet. Her mind raced, but she waved her father off.
All three of the women wandered back in the living room once he was gone, the strange sense that she was living in a dreamstate hit as she placed her feet beside her on the couch. He’d never gone willingly to a clinic or even admitted to a problem. None of this seemed real. Chelsea finally said, “I need to go get ready to see Stefano.”
Cassidy walked closer to her and shook her head. “Chelsea, don’t do this.”
Chelsea rolled her eyes. Her sister would never understand. And Chelsea ignored the tears forming in her eyes, though she needed to get out of the living room, fast. Cassidy had everything she ever wanted! Instead Chelsea lifted her chin. “Cassidy, don’t lecture me.”
Their mother looked from one to the other. “What’s Chelsea off to do?”
Before her sister said anything, Chelsea said, “Marry Stefano and take his money. I can pay off Father’s debts.”
Cassidy then implored their mother. “Tell Chelsea she is making a mistake.”
Her mother smiled at her. “Stefano Durnovo, the Marchese of Normanni, will make her a fine husband. She’ll be secure and settled, Cassidy. And they are friends already. Leave her be.”
Friends because he knew everyone, everywhere, and she needed the introductions, not because she truly wanted to confide in Stefano.
Cassidy still shook her head. “Mother, she doesn’t love him.”
“Love is impossible for me and we all know it,” Chelsea shouted and hurried back to her room.
No one needed to see the tears that already fell down her cheeks.
She and her sister were nothing alike—how could she understand? Chelsea closed the door to her room, she closed her eyes and wished somehow that Alexandre was Stefano and she could marry him.
But impossible was never her forte. Chelsea let out a sigh and went back to her closet.
There had to be something that reflected her mood that didn’t resemble a funeral for this afternoon.
For the next few hours, everyone left her alone. She only stared at her phone a dozen or more times in every hour, wishing she could reset this morning. She should have never left his bed. She chose a yellow spring dress with flowers embedded in the skirt. It was the happiest outfit she could find, but it itched against her skin and made her white face look even paler. No amount of makeup would fix her, and she didn’t bother to try.
The doorbell rang. She walked out of her room with her head down.
With Alex, she’d run to the door and fluffed her hair. He’d said she was beautiful and she’d practically stabbed him in the back. This time she barely lifted her chin but met the dark gaze of the man she was about to say yes to. Her shoul
ders slumped, and she walked out onto the front step with him. “Stefano, I’m ready to go.”
He waited near the door, not moving. “Where is your father so I can pay my respects and speak to him?”
“He’s in rehab.” She smiled. At least her father had finally accepted help. It was the best news she’d had in years.
Stefano put his hands on his pockets and walked down the short walkway with her. “Well, that’s good to hear. He won’t besmirch my family’s honor.”
Seriously? Stefano implied he was willing to marry beneath himself and she was the backup plan. Stefano needed everything in order even if his party lifestyle should indicate he didn’t care about appearances, but they both knew he did. Alex hadn’t cared who her family was or wasn’t, but Stefano would hold her father’s faults over her head. She felt her skin grow clammy as she crossed her arms. “He is a good man and good father.”
He motioned with his head toward his black town car. Clearly, he intended to drink and party tonight, like he did every night. “Let’s get going, my lady.”
She glanced at the street and saw a black DS Wild Rubis drive by. Her heart leapt that she was saved, and she called out, “Alex?”
The car continued past her house. The man driving that car looked twenty years older than Alex. She should have known better but her head dropped.
Stefano glanced around the street. “Your farmer? Where?”
If he’d have come, she’d have run into his car. Escape from a trapped future was possible but would never be again if she said yes. She massaged her temples as she said, “Nothing. I just thought I saw his car, but it was someone else.”
Stefano stood slightly taller somehow as he stared down at her. “Chelsea, once we agree to a price, I expect my wife to be loyal, only to me. You don’t get us both.”
Alex wouldn’t have that worry. She trembled and wondered why as she lowered her head again. “I understand entirely Stefano.”
Stefano stepped closer. “Good, now name your price so we can sign off and celebrate.”
“I... I can’t.” She stepped back toward her parents’ house. Alex’s frown as he stared at her was burned in her memory. She ached for him, and couldn’t imagine touching Stefano, in any way, ever. She lifted her head, more certain with every second.
Stefano crossed his arms and stared at her quizzically. “What?”
Both of them knew this was nothing more than business, but in marriage maybe she didn’t want just business. Her sister had something more. She swallowed and lifted her shoulders as she grew a backbone. “Stefano, thanks for the generous offer. I really mean it.”
He lowered his arms. “Then why are we going to dinner?”
She shrugged. Now she didn’t care. She ruined her life with Alex, but she wasn’t about to ruin her future by saying yes now. She needed to be stronger. If she somehow saw Alex again, she’d beg him to forgive her. But for now, she couldn’t take Stefano down with her when she’d never be happy. She smiled, and said, “We can cancel. I’ll just go inside now.”
“I don’t understand, Chelsea.”
Right, well she’d have to be clear. She took a deep breath and stated the truth. “I can never marry you, no matter the price.”
His jaw hardened for a second but then he nodded at her. “Then I’ll see you soon, Chelsea. I don’t have much time left.”
True. He had less than ninety days left. She understood and waved. “Yes, goodbye. Good luck. I’m sure my sister would give you a discount if you’re interested in the name of your true love. And thank you!”
As she made it back to the house, she could finally breathe normally. She’d ruined her shot with Alex, but at least she hadn’t agreed to marry Stefano. From now on, she’d be less impulsive and if she turned thirty and never married, well then she’d stay in Paris. Maybe she could sell paintings, at least for a start. For once she was going to live like her dreams mattered and not take her sister’s or anyone’s dime to succeed.
Alex’s soulful gaze haunted Chelsea. She couldn’t erase the memory of Alex’s intense smile when he laughed, like it was so rare and precious, so she took brush to canvas. This painting was very different than her others, but the dream of Alex spurred her to keep working.
Every night since she’d told Stefano no until now, she’d tried to make this piece work in time for her show this month. The few weeks without Alex had been torture but preparing for the show kept her busy during the day. Nights? They were the worst.
She’d set up an art studio in her bedroom in Paris, pushing the bed to the far corner, not really caring about anything else other than this painting. She held her phone in one hand as she stared at the canvas. The huge left eye needed fine tuning on his eyelid. “Sheena, thanks for helping me. This piece is almost done.”
“Good.” Sheena sounded so bubbly and excited with every word. “Glad you’re finally showing your stuff. I’m sure you’ll make money.”
Money would be nice. She never considered making anything from her art, but this was the first step. She stared at her canvas. If she could sell some paintings at the prices Sheena suggested, then she could afford her own studio in Paris and learn to live on her own. Somehow the eyes had to capture the emotion and she needed to brighten part of the pupil maybe? She let out a breath as she said, “I’m just finishing my last painting.”
“I can’t wait to see it.” Sheena always sounded like a cheerleader.
Part of Chelsea wished she’d been more like her friend on the other end of the line, always knowing her way, but she wasn’t and never would be.
She bit her lip and studied her work. This had to be done and ready to show the world. Alex meant too much to her and she’d not let the feeling dissipate. She nodded her head though no one was there. “Me too. This might be my best.”
“Now I really want to see it.” Sheena spoke as if she’d like to hug her.
Her friend had believed in Chelsea’s art, even when she hadn’t. “Next week at the show.”
Sheena covered the phone to talk to someone in the background. She then said, “Got to go. Talk to you tomorrow about transportation. You’ll need to set up the night before.”
“Bye.” Chelsea immediately dove back into the image she was creating.
The eyes were worth perfecting. Even if she never saw Alex again, she needed the memory to remain raw and fresh and this painting was an homage, for him.
She worked until the sun began to set, and even then she’d have not noticed the time if her mother hadn’t knocked on her door. She popped her head in and asked, “Chelsea, are you ready?”
Right. Tonight they were going to the recovery center to visit her father. She put her brush down and didn’t care what anybody thought about her white t-shirt that had paint smudges everywhere. She had a bounce in her step as she joined her mother and smiled. “Yes. I can’t wait to see him and I miss hearing his horrible singing voice as he makes breakfast.”
“He’s not horrible, but he’s not a professional either. But let’s go.” Her mother didn’t say a word about her outfit. Actually, she and her mother had been much better since Chelsea put her foot down on her own future, which made staying in the house much easier.
Remington drove their family car while Chelsea played with her nephew on the short trip. They entered the facility and were escorted to her father’s private room. Per the rules, visitors could go in one at a time. Chelsea waited her turn, after her mother and sister, and played with Cristian, tickling him to make him laugh. When both her sister and mother returned, Chelsea relunctantly returned the baby to Cassidy and headed inside. She threw open her arms and said, “Father.”
His hug felt strong. She hoped this placed helped him get over the thrill of his gambling so he’d just be her dad. She took the seat opposite him and her father stared at the paint under her fingernail, letting her know he saw. “Chelsea, you look happy. Where is your man, Mr. Travers?”
Huh? Her mind raced. She’d never introduced them. A
lex had been out of touch, and she knew he must hate her. Her cheeks heated as she said, “He’s at his vineyard.”
Her father sat back in his chair and smiled at her. “I’m going to miss seeing my girl every day, but I never saw a man more in love.”
Alex? Seriously? She’d clearly missed something big. She pulled her seat closer. “What? When did you ever meet Alex Travers?”
Her father sipped from a coffee cup at his elbow and winked at her like they shared a secret. “He’s the one that gave me the incentive to come here.”
Blood rushed from her face. Alex had talked to her father and helped? How? When? “He did what?”
Her father gave her a quizzical stare. “Alexandre Travers was clearly in love with my daughter, and my addiction seemed to hold you back from being happy. I couldn’t let that happen, so I said yes when he asked me to get help.”
Alex loved her? Her heart almost leapt out of her body as a huge smile grew on her face. Her father was always the one who saw things in others, except when his greed blinded him. Chelsea let out a sigh. “When did you talk to Alex, Dad?”
He stared at her like she should know the answer, but then he explained, “The night before I checked in.”
And then she’d broken up with him the next day. “I have to go.” Chelsea jumped out of her chair. She needed to speak to Alex, if he’d let her. She swallowed and grabbed her phone in her back pocket as she raced outside the facility to have a minute alone.
After she dialed, she paced back and forth while it rang. She closed her eyes and said, “Alex pick up the phone.” But it continued to ring. Finally, it clicked, but it went to voice mail. Her heart fell into her stomach.
She needed to see him and tell him in person, but for now she opened her eyes, paced and said what she could to his machine. “Hey Alex, it’s Chelsea. I wanted to let you know that I couldn’t marry another man. I had no idea you spoke to my father about his addiction. I would really like to talk to you. My art showing is next week. But mostly I wanted to say I miss you.”
Forbidden Monsieur: Princes of Avce Page 11