Honeymoon in Paris

by Juliette Sobanet

  I didn’t have any trouble believing that Lexi and Dylan could be explosive and dramatic. The first time I’d met Dylan was on New Year’s Eve at the Hôtel Plaza Athénée, inside the fancy suite that Lexi had told me her parents paid for. What I didn’t know at the time was that Lexi’s parents died in a car accident when she was young, and she’s suffered from major periods of depression ever since. The next morning, Dylan was gone and Lexi was locked in the bathroom sobbing.

  “Do you think there’s any hope that things will change?” I asked Lexi.

  “I thought everything would magically improve when we moved in together.” Lexi took a long sip of her pink cocktail. “Wishful thinking. Besides the sex, it’s been a nightmare.”

  Fiona placed a hand on Lexi’s shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, Marc’s mother, the dreaded Madame Rousseau, is coming to stay with us for twelve days.”

  “Twelve days?” I gasped. In addition to being Marc’s uptight mother, Madame Rousseau was our advisor at the Sorbonne the year before, and to put it in Fiona’s typical words, she was a sodding old cow.

  Fiona downed the last of her drink. “Yes! Twelve days! How will I survive?”

  “This might be a good time to get a prescription for a strong sedative,” Lexi said. “If you don’t want someone to end up dead.”

  Fiona squared her gaze on me. “Now that it’s clear that all of our love lives are a complete mess, let’s get back to this Boucher brother business. While I think Nicolas is quite handsome, you know I prefer his younger brother, Marcel.”

  “Really?” Lexi said. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Marcel type. He’s so flashy, so teenage heartthrob, and always in the tabloids. Doesn’t seem like your type of guy.”

  Fiona shot Lexi a sly grin, then shrugged. “We can talk about our Boucher brother preferences later. I want to know what Nicolas said to you once you got in the car, Charlotte.”

  “Oh, right. Well, Luc hasn’t spoken with Nicolas or his family in years, since Vincent cheated on and divorced Luc’s mother, I suppose. So Nicolas wants me to ask Luc to get in touch with him because he has something really important to tell him.”

  “Did Nicolas tell you what it is?” Fiona asked.

  I hesitated. Did I really want to tell the girls about Luc’s dad going to prison when I hadn’t even asked Luc about it yet? When I didn’t even know what he’d gone to prison for, or if it was even true for that matter?

  The wine I had guzzled back at the hotel suddenly became best friends with the cocktail I’d just downed, making me remember that this was supposed to be the most romantic night of my honeymoon with Luc. But Luc had left me alone in our hotel suite, and I wasn’t even sure if he’d been telling the truth about Adeline being sick. Not to mention the fact that he’d omitted the truth about where all of this insane money was coming from, Brigitte’s famous actress status, his childhood connection to the high-profile Boucher family, his father going to prison, and most recently, his secret bathroom phone call.

  Screw it. I couldn’t possibly be expected to keep this disaster a secret. I would go nuts holding it all in.

  “Okay, but you both have to promise never to tell a soul.”

  Lexi and Fiona both gave me serious nods and leaned over the table.

  “All right, get ready for this. Nicolas said that ‘Luc’s dad never deserved to go to prison.’ That Luc’s dad was innocent, and that if Luc gives him a chance, Nicolas can prove it.”

  A stunned silence settled over the group. Lexi shot up from her seat and grabbed the waitress’ arm as she passed by. “We ordered cocktails two minutes ago. We need them, now,” she ordered in French.

  As the scared waitress scurried toward the bar, Lexi sat back down and joined Fiona in her gaping stare.

  “Luc’s dad went to prison? Did Nicolas tell you why?” Fiona asked.

  “No, I was too shocked to say anything after he dropped that massive bomb. Plus I had to get back in the hotel, and I wanted to hear the truth from Luc.”

  “So what happened next?” Lexi was on the edge of her seat now, gripping the table.

  I reached into my purse, pulled out the little black card Nicolas had given me and slid it into the center of the table. “Nicolas said to call him if I wanted to know more.”

  “We definitely need to know more.” Lexi picked up the card and held it high against the purple lighting in the club. “Fiona, you wouldn’t happen to be up for a threesome, would you?”

  I snatched the card from her hands. “No one will be having a threesome with Nicolas Boucher because I’m not going to call him. Not to mention the fact that you both have serious boyfriends!”

  “Oh, just because you’re married now means you can’t have any fun?” Lexi said, holding the card tightly to her chest. “In all seriousness, Char, you have to call him to find out why Luc’s dad went to prison.”

  “Wait, after you went back into the hotel, didn’t you confront Luc about all of this?” Fiona asked.

  I filled the girls in on Luc’s sketchy bathroom phone call, and on how Luc had said Adeline was sick and had disappeared before I could get two words out of him.

  Fiona crossed her arms, concern lining her eyes. “There’s something Luc’s keeping from you that will put you in danger? Are you absolutely sure that’s what he said?”

  I nodded, feeling that same panicky feeling rise up through my chest once more.

  “This isn’t good, Char,” Fiona said. “Something really strange is going on—and I’m worried about you. I hate to say it, but I agree with Lexi. If Luc won’t tell you what’s going on here, you need to call Nicolas. You have a right to know the truth about the family you married into.”

  Lexi reached for my purse, then handed me my cell phone.

  “Start dialing, honey. It’s time for us to meet the sexiest man alive.”

  EIGHT

  “I’ve never believed in God until this moment,” Lexi whispered under her breath as she nodded toward the door. “They’re here.”

  “Who’s they? I thought Nicolas was coming alo—” I began, but stopped when I spotted Nicolas and his tabloid star brother, Marcel, walking purposefully through the bar straight toward us.

  If it weren’t for the bumping bass in this swanky club, you could’ve heard a pin drop. Every female eye in that bar was glued to the sleek, sexy pair of brothers who’d only taken twenty minutes to leave the movie premiere party they’d been attending and zip over here to meet… little old me.

  And for the second time that day, I wondered, is this really my life?

  Lexi’s sweaty palm gripped my knee. “If I faint, please tell Nicolas the only way to revive me will be mouth to mouth.”

  Fiona smacked Lexi under the table.

  “Get it together, girls,” I hissed through gritted teeth. A sweet smile quickly graced my lips as the men approached our table.

  Nicolas placed a warm hand on my shoulder as he leaned in to give me a kiss on each cheek. “Charlotte, I’m so glad you called.”

  “Thanks for coming. I’m sorry to have pulled you away from the premiere party. You didn’t have to—”

  “We were happy to leave. Things with our father and Brigitte were getting interesting… as you can probably imagine.” He nodded to his brother. “Charlotte, this is Marcel.”

  Shorter and thinner than Nicolas—but every bit as handsome—Marcel had a messy head of dark chocolate hair, a sexy five o’clock shadow, and brown eyes that could take most any girl from zero to naked in his bed in about two seconds.

  He reminded me of a younger version of Vincent, just not quite as sleazy. Then again, we hadn’t even spoken, so his sleaziness factor was yet to be determined.

  I introduced the girls, and kisses—or bisous—were exchanged around the table, while every other table in the entire bar was watching this whole scene go down, no doubt wondering who in the hell we were to get to hang out with the ultra-famous Boucher brothers. Up until twelve hours ago, I would’ve been asking mys
elf the exact same question.

  Marcel took a seat in between Fiona and Lexi while Nicolas extended a hand to me. “Charlotte, would you mind taking a quick walk with me?”

  I could actually feel Lexi deflating next to me, but when Marcel placed a hand on her shoulder and asked her if she’d ever done any modeling, she perked right up again.

  “Girls, do you mind? I’ll only be a few minutes,” I said.

  Fiona winked at me. “Not to worry. We’ll be just fine here.”

  Nicolas took my hand and led me past the clinking of drinks and the excited chatter that circled the bar. “I have a car waiting outside. Is it okay with you if we talk in there?”

  Before agreeing to his proposition, I promised myself I would never again think of the piano sex scene.

  But oh God, that’s all I can think about when I look at him!

  And I love Luc, I really do. I would never do anything with Nicolas.

  But that damn naked piano scene…

  Stop it. I love Luc. Piano sex would hurt anyway. Like Fiona said, Nicolas is just a person. The piano sex wasn’t even real.

  But it looked so—

  “Charlotte?” Nicolas repeated.

  “Mm-hmm, yes of course!” I said, except I sounded more like a high-pitched squirrel. Suddenly I wished I hadn’t downed that cocktail so quickly.

  My steaming cheeks welcomed the cool night air that flittered past as Nicolas led me to a long black limo waiting at the corner. Apparently he was always riding in style.

  Thankfully our invasive paparazzi friends hadn’t found us yet. We slipped inside the dark limousine and Nicolas closed the door behind us.

  “Did you talk to Luc yet?” He wasn’t wasting any time getting to the point.

  I shook my head. “No, Luc had to go back to Lyon tonight. It’s Adeline, his daughter. She has a fever… or so he says,” I mumbled under my breath.

  Nicolas raised a brow. “You think he’s lying?”

  “What? No, of course not,” I covered as I gazed down at my shimmering stilettos and realized the sparkles were blurring in the darkness. Maybe I’d had a bit too much to drink.…

  “It’s just that Luc has never mentioned this minor tidbit about his father going to prison, and now I’m not sure what to believe.”

  “Tidbit?” Nicolas repeated in a thick French accent.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was speaking English.”

  “Never mind, it is not important,” Nicolas continued in French. “I am really sorry, Charlotte. I never meant to cause any problems between you and Luc. I only want him to listen to what I have to say. Because the way things happened with our families, it was horrible. And if Luc only knew what I knew.…” Nicolas trailed off, gazing out the window at a group of young girls exiting the bar, but not seeming the least bit interested in them.

  “Yes?” I prodded.

  “It could change everything.”

  I looked Nicolas straight in the eye. “Listen, if you want me to admit to Luc that I’ve been talking to you and ask him to hear you out, I need to know what I’m getting myself into. What did Luc’s father go to prison for?”

  Nicolas shifted uncomfortably in his seat before finally spilling the beans. “When we were teenagers and our fathers were in business together, Luc’s dad was found guilty of embezzlement. When the company was audited, they discovered that he had embezzled the equivalent of two million euros from their company. He was sentenced to a year in prison, leaving his family devastated—both emotionally and financially. Luc’s parents got a divorce, and my father took that opportunity to swoop in and save the day.”

  Even in my semidrunken state, the sarcasm in Nicolas’ tone was not lost on me.

  “That’s awful. Why would Luc hide this from me?” I asked.

  Nicolas shook his head. “I’m not sure, but from what I remember of my friendship with Luc, he doesn’t play dirty. He’s an honest person. I don’t think he would hide this information from you unless he had a good reason.”

  “Luc is a good man,” I said. “I wonder though, do you think he’s trying to protect me from something—something dangerous?”

  Nicolas gazed back at me, perplexed. “Why would you think that?”

  “Just something I overheard him saying on the phone today got me thinking that this could be more complicated than I thought.”

  “Luc has been through a lot with his family, and now with Brigitte. He hasn’t had it easy at all, Charlotte. Maybe, like you said, he’s been keeping this information from you to protect you, to protect your relationship. Maybe he just doesn’t want his past to ruin your future together.”

  “Maybe, but he should’ve learned by now that our pasts will always catch up to us. The fact that I’m sitting in a limo with his former best friend and ex-step-brother, and that I had drinks with the lovely Brigitte and his ex-step-father—on what was supposed to be the last night of our honeymoon—is clear proof of that.”

  “True,” Nicolas conceded. “What is important now, though, is that Luc knows the truth.”

  “So what is the truth? If Luc’s dad didn’t embezzle the money, then who did?”

  Nicolas tapped his fingers nervously on the edge of the seat. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Charlotte. I need to speak with Luc first.”

  I pulled out my cell phone, brought Luc’s number up on the screen, then handed it to Nicolas.

  “Here’s your chance.”

  Nicolas’ dark gaze intensified as he took the phone. “Charlotte, after I make this call, you need to be aware that things might get complicated for a while.”

  I reached for the door handle. “And you don’t call this complicated?”

  Nicolas placed his hand on my arm. “No, Charlotte, I mean it. This is serious. Your name will be in the papers, you’ll have reporters calling the house. This was a high-profile case back in the day, and opening it back up again isn’t going to be easy—especially after the truth comes out. Just remember that no matter what happens, Luc is a good man. And judging from the little bit of time I’ve spent with you, I understand why he married you. You’re smart and beautiful and… well, I don’t want what I’m about to do to ruin what you have together. Promise me you won’t let that happen.”

  “Nicolas, what you need to understand about me is that no matter what happens, I’m with Luc for the long haul. I love him unconditionally, and nothing you could say or do will ever change that.”

  As soon as I left Nicolas alone in the limo and stepped outside, a wall of flashing cameras descended upon me. I shielded my eyes and pushed my way past the intrusive photographers, but suddenly their attention shifted.

  Marcel Boucher strutted out of the club like the superstar that he was with Lexi and Fiona pinned to his sides. Cameras flashed furiously as the paparazzi couldn’t get enough—and apparently Marcel and the girls couldn’t either. They all stopped to pose for the cameras, Lexi of course being the one to work it the most, before they finally made their way over to the limo.

  Marcel reached for the door, but I placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Nicolas is making an important call. We should give him a minute.”

  Marcel tilted his head at me, a cocky grin passing over his lips. “Is that what you call it in English, making a call?” Then he shrugged my hand off of him and reached for the door once more. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Luc,” he whispered in my ear before slipping inside.

  “That’s not what’s going on here,” I said. But my protests were drowned out by my two giggling girlfriends climbing into the limo behind Marcel.

  Peeking inside, I noticed Nicolas hanging up my phone, a disappointed look on his face. “No answer,” he mouthed.

  It had been well over two hours since Luc had left Paris, so he was definitely in Lyon by now. The fact that he wasn’t answering his phone didn’t bode well with me. Even if he was busy taking care of Adeline, he would’ve picked up his phone. He never ignored my calls.

  The paparazzi vul
tures lined up at my back, the clicking sound of their cameras making me flinch. I could understand why celebrities lashed out at them—they were relentless.

  Marcel was already passing around glasses filled to the brim with champagne when Lexi reached for me. “Come on, Char. We could all stand to blow off a little steam right now, don’t you think? After everything that happened today, what’s a limo ride around Paris and a little champagne going to hurt?”

  Lexi was right. The damage of the day had already been done. Luc wasn’t answering his phone, and the longer I stood out on that sidewalk, the higher chance I had of making it into every French tabloid first thing tomorrow morning.

  I took Lexi’s outstretched hand and climbed into the Boucher brothers’ limo, where champagne flowed heavier than the River Seine, washing all of our troubles into a bubbly abyss.

  NINE

  “Mmm… Nicolas, je t’aime.” The breathy whisper came low and soft in my ear. An arm draped over my chest, pulling me in tightly. I tried to open my eyes, but the beating of drums against my temples forced my eyelids back to their natural state of closed.

  “Nicolas… Nicolas… Nicolas.” It was that airy female voice again, whispering in her perfect French accent. Why was she calling me Nicolas? And why was she squeezing me so close I could hardly breathe?

  I gritted my teeth as a wave of nausea swept through my core, and this time I forced my eyes open. Lexi lay sprawled across me, her eyelashes fluttering as she continued to whisper that name—Nicolas, Nicolas—over and over. I rolled out from under her tight grasp and peered down at my feet to find a set of silky black sheets bunched at my feet.

  Black sheets?

  I didn’t have black sheets. And neither did Luc.

  I peered around the sleek bedroom, my mouth unhinging when the most perfect view of la Tour Eiffel caught my eye through a stunning floor-to-ceiling window.

  “Nicolas, Nicolas, Nicolas,” Lexi hummed.

  Oh, God, it was all coming back to me.

  Nicolas Boucher. The Boucher brothers.