Hidden Devotion

by Lila Dubois

  “It’s like a stool,” Franco said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “A stool needs at least three legs. Two legs aren’t enough.”

  “Exactly.” Devon hit the button and asked for another round.

  “Rum and coke, and water,” Franco yelled towards the place he hoped the mic was.

  “Water isn’t a bad idea.” Devon stood, removed his jacket and even loosened his tie. When he sat, he looked relaxed.

  “Good.” Franco, too, relaxed. “You’re not going to kill me.”

  “Er, what?”

  “You seemed as though you were just waiting for me to ask the wrong question then you’d kill me and leave my body propped up here. It would probably take days for them to report me as dead. But you took off your jacket so now I know you’re not wearing a gun.”

  “If we wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

  “Juliette said the same thing. I’m going to pretend you’re both joking.”

  “I just finished telling you that there are plenty of people who know about us and aren’t members. The consequences for divulging secrets are enough to keep people quiet.”

  “Good to know.”

  “But I won’t lie. We would kill to keep the Trinity Masters safe.”

  “We? Are you an enforcer?”

  “Enforcer? No. But there are members very capable of killing someone.”

  “SEAL Team Six—are they members?”

  “I don’t know. They might be.”

  “You don’t know who all the other members are?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, then how do you and Juliette know each other?”

  “We…grew up together.”

  New drinks and a tall bottle of imported water were set down, along with crystal goblets for the water. When the server was gone, Franco shook his head. “Dev—can I call you Dev? Listen, we’re friends now, right?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Sure we are.”

  Devon blinked then burst out laughing. “Okay, sure. We’re friends. You can be my weird friend.”

  “I’ll take it. But back to my point—you and Juliette, there’s something going on there. I can tell.”

  Devon knocked back his entire glass, grimacing as he swallowed. Franco’s eyebrows crept up his forehead.

  “I’ve known Juliette since she was a baby. Our relationship is complicated.”

  “Have you slept together?”

  “I’m not going to answer that.”

  “Fair enough. But speaking of sex—”

  “Which we weren’t.”

  “—If you join when you’re, what, twenty? And you know that you don’t have to try to date and fall in love…” Franco trailed off, losing the train of thought as he flashed back to his last disastrous date. Apparently mini-golf was only a cute date-night activity for people under the age of sixteen and characters in romantic comedies.

  “Was there a question in there somewhere?”

  “Right. What do members do before they’re, uh, called to the altar? Do they remain celibate? Do they date but keep it casual? Hire prostitutes? Juliette mentioned sluttiness.”

  “Prostitutes? What the hell…no. There are no specific rules, but once you join, you know you’re only asking for trouble if you start a serious relationship. Most people continue to date casually. Some take advantage of the situation and indulge themselves.”

  “You mean no-strings-attached sex?”

  Devon grinned. “And freaky sex.”

  “Freaky sex. Yeah, I can see that.” Franco had a brief and vivid fantasy of Juliette wearing nothing but an apron making empanadas. His subconscious was a chauvinist asshole.

  “What other questions do you have?”

  “Huh? I’m still thinking about the freaky sex.” Franco eyed Devon. He and Juliette were like a matched pair of beautiful people. Barbie and Ken but not so cheap. If that was their connection—they’d indulged in freaky sex with each other pre-marriage—Franco doubted the freakiness involved baking.

  “Then can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course,” Franco replied.

  “Are you going to join?”

  That caught Franco off guard. “What?”

  “If the Grand Master offers you membership, will you join?”

  “Yes.” He should probably take a few days to consider it. He should probably wait and see if he had any more questions. But now that he knew this was real, there was no chance he was going to turn his back on it.

  “Are you sure?” Devon seemed dubious.

  “Absolutely. And you know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I fucking hate dating. If joining means I don’t have to do that, then I’m in.”

  Devon laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. After that, Franco gave up on his list of questions. It wasn’t until they stumbled out of the club to a sky that was already starting to lighten that either man realized how long they’d spent talking.

  They called for cabs, and once Franco climbed in and gave the hotel address, he realized that he felt comfortable with Devon. The kind of comfortable that was normally reserved for family.

  Maybe that was because in a way, Devon was going to be part of his family, or maybe it was more appropriate to say Franco was becoming part of Devon’s family.

  Now all he had to do was impress this Grand Master.

  Who was ringing the doorbell at six in the morning?

  Juliette looked up from the membership file she was reading. Her resolve to keep everything in the Grand Master’s office—in her office—had failed after the fourth day spent in the windowless room.

  Grumbling, she got to her feet and trudged to the door, passing a large grandfather clock in the hall. According to the clock—and now that she was paying attention, the sunlight pouring through the curtains on either side of the door—it wasn’t six o’clock, it was nearly noon.

  She checked the security screen, smiling when she saw Francisco.

  “Francisco, hi. Come in.”

  “I hope it’s okay that I just showed up.”

  “Of course.” Juliette motioned to her leggings and battered sweatshirt. “Assuming you don’t mind my casual attire.”

  “I wish I’d worn my PJs instead of getting all dressed up.” He frowned at his slacks, button-down shirt and jacket. He had a bag over one shoulder.

  “For most people, pants and a shirt aren’t dressed up, but I saw what you were wearing back in Florida, so I respect your effort.”

  “Ha, ha.” He hung up his coat, a strangely familiar gesture—as if he’d been here a million times before. “But you’re right.”

  Juliette steered him towards the kitchen. The living room was off limits since all the files were spread out on the floor in there. “Sorry I didn’t call you. How was your meeting with Devon?”

  “Great. I like him, he’s a cool guy.”

  “Did you get your questions answered?”

  “Most of them, but then I thought of more.”

  “Oh. I’ve been kind of busy with work, so I might not be able to take time to answer them right now.”

  “Not a problem. I didn’t come by because of the questions.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. I was worried. It’s been nearly a week and I was starting to think something had happened to you. Like maybe you’d been silenced for telling me too much.”

  “A week? That can’t be…what day is it?”

  “It’s Wednesday.”

  “Wednesday?” Juliette patted her pockets. Where was her phone? “It can’t be Wednesday.”

  Franco pulled out his phone, flipped to the calendar and then held it out. It was Wednesday. She’d buried herself in the files and records for days—more days than she’d realized.

  “Crap.” She laid her arms on the counter then dropped her head onto them. “The gala is in three days.”

  “What was that?”

  She straightened and brushed her hair back from her f
ace. “The gala—it’s on Saturday.”

  “Right. The Winter Gala. One of four annual gatherings.”

  “You sound like you’re reciting.”

  “Just checking to make sure that I remembered everything Dev told me. I wanted to take notes, but figured that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Smart.” Now that she wasn’t focused on work, exhaustion was dragging at her arms and legs. Refusing to give in, she started making tea, selecting a particularly strong breakfast blend. When the tea was steeping, she whirled to face Franco. “I just realized…you’ve been here this whole time. Your job…”

  He shrugged, seemingly at ease. “The only person who could fire me is, well…me. But I’ve been working.”

  “Francisco, I’m so sorry.”

  “Call me Franco. That’s what my friends call me. Well, and my family.”

  “Franco… I don’t know. I like Francisco. It sounds very dramatic.”

  “Francisco is the name of someone who can dance and cook. I can’t do either.”

  Juliette laughed as she poured tea, forgoing proper cups in favor of thick mugs.

  “Should I be worried?” He blew on the surface of the hot liquid.

  “About what?”

  “I haven’t heard anything from the Grand Master. Devon said that he’d contact me because I need to be offered membership.”

  “Oh. Of course. Right.” Juliette turned away, blindly opening a cupboard to cover her reaction. She’d left Franco hanging. There was too much to do, too much to figure out.

  Where the hell was Sebastian? He should have been here days ago, and if he’d just show up, she could officially make him one of her councilors and force him to help her.

  Devon. Devon could help you. He could be one of your councilors.

  Ignoring that annoying inner voice, she closed the cupboard door, going instead to the pantry. “I’m sure you’ll be hearing from the Grand Master soon. You should attend the Winter Gala.”

  “Attend a gala?”

  “Yes. Otherwise you’d have to wait months for the next big event.”

  “A gala…like with tuxedos?”

  “I’m sure we can find someone to loan you a tux.”

  “I’ll rent one, if I have to.”

  “Rent one…” Juliette shook her head. “This isn’t a rented-tux type of event.”

  Franco groaned. Juliette pulled out a few energy bars, which were the only readily available snacks in the pantry.

  “Er, thanks.” He looked dubiously at the brightly wrapped package.

  “I should probably go grocery shopping.”

  “I’m not one to talk, since I’m absolute crap at responsible adult things like keeping a regular schedule and cooking, but you look like you haven’t eaten or slept in days.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Juliette refused to feel self-conscious. She distinctly remembered showering earlier in an effort to wake herself up, and she’d put these clothes on fresh afterwards.

  “Can I, uh, would you like to…go out to lunch?”

  “No, I’m in the middle of something.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Franco dropped his head, studying the nutritional information on the back of the energy bar.

  “Did you…were you asking me out?”

  “Devon said that people still date. Members, I mean. That’s why I asked, but if that was inappropriate—”

  Juliette felt herself blush, both from pleasure that he’d asked her out and embarrassment at how she’d replied. “No, it’s not inappropriate, and I’m sorry. I’ve just been so focused.”

  “Wait, I realize I implied that the only reason you’d say no is if it was inappropriate.” He blinked owlishly and ran a hand through his hair, immediately looking rumpled. “I totally respect your right to just say no for whatever reason.”

  They stared at each other, awkward in each other’s presence for the first time. Juliette hated that she was making this sweet, hapless guy feel bad.

  “Franco, I like you. That’s why I kissed you. I just can’t go out to lunch today.”

  He smiled and Juliette forgot how tired she was, forgot how much work she had to do. His eyes lit up when he smiled.

  “I’m glad,” he said.

  “What?” It wasn’t the most intelligent reply, but she’d lost the thread of the conversation.

  “You said you liked me, and I said I’m glad.” Franco tipped his head as he studied he, then picked up his phone.

  Juliette waited for a minute but he kept his head down. Miffed, she said, “I have to get back to work.”

  “Lunch should be here in forty-five minutes.” He set down the phone. “I hope you like Indian food.”

  “Food?”

  “Yep. All hail GrubHub.”

  “I…actually Indian food sounds really good.” It was nice to have someone just make a decision.

  “And I’ve got my tablet with me, so I’ll stay and work.”

  “You can’t. What I’m working on is confidential.”

  “I’ll stay in here, or in some other room.” He slid off his stool and came over, crowding her against the counter. “I know what it’s like to focus on something so much that you forget everything else. That’s when you need someone to provide food and beverage.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He cupped her face, thumbs rubbing her cheeks. His eyes were bright blue in the afternoon light. “I’m not saying you won’t be. But I’m still going to take care of you.”

  Juliette closed her eyes, letting the weight of her head rest in his hands. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Where is it safe for me to sit?”

  Juliette took him to the small library, which had two desks, a long leather couch, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases. On the way, Franco grabbed his bag from the coat closet where he’d stashed it.

  “Before I forget, I brought something you should look at.” He pulled a small wooden box from his bag. “This was my grandfather’s. The story, which is apparently true, was that the secret society gave him the box for safekeeping. He never opened it because he thought it was a test—if he didn’t open it, they’d know he could resist temptation and keep a secret. It got shoved into a dresser along with all his other stuff. I hadn’t thought about it in years until you showed up.”

  Juliette peered at the box. The top was carved with the triquetra. She reached for it but Franco pulled it back, setting it on the desk.

  “Teasing me?”

  “No. I’m making sure you don’t get distracted from whatever you were working on.”

  Work—the piles and piles of member files in the other room. She should get back to it. Every second those files were outside the headquarters was a risk. She’d only brought the ones for unmatched members, and there was nothing incriminating—such as a description of the trinity—in these files. If an outsider were to walk in and find them, they wouldn’t learn about the Trinity Masters, but they would certainly have a lot of questions as to why Juliette had that kind of information about so many different people.

  She should get back to it.

  Juliette slid down onto the couch, stifling a yawn. “What are you working on?”

  “Transcribing some old letters. I finished scanning them before I got on the plane. Between the handwriting and the fading, it’s taking an annoyingly long time.”

  Juliette rested her head on the arm of the couch. “What kind of letters are they?”

  “…hoping to better understand the relationship between the families.” Franco finished his explanation, zooming out until the entire page of the letter was visible.

  Juliette didn’t respond.

  He twisted in his chair, not surprised to see her asleep. She was curled into a ball with her head on the edge of the couch. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

  She looked small, vulnerable and exhausted. Even he wasn’t dumb enough to say this, but she looked terrible—there were bags under her eyes and her face looked thinner than before.


  Tablet in one hand, he sat on the couch then tugged Juliette’s shoulders until she was lying flat, head on his lap. He brushed her hair back from her face, hoping this wasn’t a completely creepy thing to do.

  Normally he was the one strung out and exhausted-looking as a result of getting wrapped up in his work. It felt good to be on the other side of that equation, to be the one taking care instead of being cared for. Laying one hand protectively on her shoulder, Franco was content to simply be with her as she slept.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’m so full.” Juliette wiped her fingers on a napkin, resisting the urge to lick them clean. “This is seriously some of the best food I’ve had in a long time.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it, I spent hours cooking it.” Franco motioned vaguely to the microwave, where he’d reheated the food that had been delivered earlier while she slept.

  “I expect nothing less from a man named Francisco.”

  He laughed. Her own chuckle turned into a massive yawn.

  “You should go to bed.” He adjusted his glasses, which had a tendency to slide down his nose.

  Juliette eyed him. Where had this commanding tone come from? And why did she find it so appealing? “I slept all day.”

  “Not to be rude, but you still look tired.”

  “A gentleman never tells a lady when she looks poorly.”

  “I’m a terrible gentleman. Ask my mother. She gave up on me after she found a moldy bowl of cereal under my bed.”

  “Eww, teenagers are gross.”

  “Uh, that was when I was twenty-four and home from grad school for a visit.”

  “That’s just sad.” Juliette was ready to tease him more, but she yawned so widely that her jaw cracked.

  “Come on.” Franco rose and offered his hand.

  She stared at his fingers, gripped by the strange feeling that if she took his hand, everything would change. If this were a movie there would be dramatic music playing. “Why do I feel so comfortable with you?”