Another Motherfaker: The G.D. Taylors Series

by Willow Aster

  I clear my throat and go with simple. “To my sweet Cosette. Love, your Caden.”

  “Short and so sweet. I heartily approve,” Alice says.

  I can’t help but smile when talking with Alice. “You’re a delight, Alice. I can’t thank you enough for fitting this in. It does not have to be ready within the hour—in fact, if you’re not able to get to it until the end of the day, let me know and I’ll have you deliver it to her house instead.”

  “My mind is already on the bouquet. I am already creating,” she says. And she hangs up on me without saying goodbye.

  My sister Pen has called us the brothers since she was little and still does, so it’s what we all say now when referring to each other. I’m meeting the brothers and their girls at the Mean Mug, our favorite pub, before my dinner with the Dubois family. A little liquid courage before I go get insulted behind Vivienne’s fake smiles and pleasantries. I wonder what Mr. Dubois will be like. I’ve never even seen the man.

  “Shut the motherfucking French door,” Gus shouts before barking out an earth-shattering laugh.

  Everyone at Mean Mug turns to face us, and I shake my head. The two of us are the only unattached brothers in the family and it’s easy to see why.

  “First off, the whole point of saying shut the front door is to avoid saying fuck. You continue to use it incorrectly.” Jesse tips his head back and slams his beer.

  “Po-tay-to, po-tot-o—damn, I feel like some tater tots.” Gus flags over our server and orders yet another appetizer.

  Welcome to my life.

  “Help me understand this. Gus has been trying to get us up to speed on this little arrangement you’ve got with our designer, but you know he’s clear as mud. So, she told her mom she was dating someone because her mother was that upset that she broke up with the dickspackle?” Spence asks, and I glance at my watch and push to my feet.

  Sitting in this bar in my best suit makes me feel very out of place. I’ll probably lose the jacket before I get to Cosette’s.

  “I don’t know all the details. I’ll find out more tonight when I speak to her. All I know is that she needs me to pretend to be her boyfriend for another night, and I’m happy to do it.”

  “You know that means that you can’t date anyone else, if you’re fake-dating Cosette,” Mya says with a wide grin on her face.

  “I don’t think he minds,” Jesse adds, as he leans into his girlfriend.

  Emma moves to her feet and straightens my tie. “Even if you’re pretending you’re dating her, you know Mya and I need to meet her. It won’t seem real if we haven’t had a girls’ night. You know, the girlfriends need to initiate the newest GD Taylor girlfriend.”

  “Fiancée,” Spence corrects her.

  Her head tips back in laughter and she leans into him. “Soon to be Mrs.”

  “Damn straight, woman.”

  “Okay. I need to go. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m walking into,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Hopefully into a real relationship. Or some damn good sex at the very least,” Gus says, clapping his hands together when an enormous platter of tater tots is set in the middle of the table.

  “Eat your tots and stop talking,” Spence demands.

  “Text us with updates,” Mya and Emma both shout as I walk away and wave my hand over my head.

  I need to focus.

  It’s game time.

  I nearly turn around and go home when I pull in front of the Dubois mansion. We keep a car around that’s mostly Spence’s, but we all use it from time to time, me probably least of all since I Uber everywhere. I should’ve Uber’d here tonight so I would feel the extra pressure to get out of the car. I’m fifteen minutes early, so I have too much time to stare at the house.

  My phone buzzes at two minutes till seven.

  I just want to say that these flowers—I am speechless! I’ve never seen anything like them. THANK YOU. I can see you from my bedroom window and am officially letting you off the hook. You do not have to do this. The flowers are more than enough. However, we are having lamb chops with a cognac dijon cream sauce and passion fruit and lemon meringue tartlets if that persuades you at all. I promise I won’t make it as awkward as last night by kissing you in front of everyone. And if you just drive away right now, I’ll completely understand.

  I hop out of the car as fast as my body will carry me and try to find which window she can see me from as I walk toward the front door. I find it right before I reach the door and she lifts a hand up to wave, her smile so bright.

  I blow her a kiss and she smiles even bigger before disappearing.

  I hope you’ll make it awkward as hell by kissing me tonight, I think before ringing the doorbell. I hear yapping right away. Little Louie must be feeling better tonight.

  An older, more uptight, non-smiling, not nearly as beautiful version of Cosette opens the door. I’d be ashamed of my thoughts, knowing what it’s like to be compared to my siblings. I’m between Spence and Gus, for crying out loud. And then comes Jesse darling and finally, a girl! I learned early on to not even bother competing for attention. That whole comparison is the death of joy that Mark Twain talked about. I’m okay with catching people by surprise when they realize I actually have a personality too. But the way this woman’s mouth curls as she looks me up and down and doesn’t bother hiding how I don’t measure up—I don’t feel too awful for seeing how Cosette outshines her.

  Cosette steps behind her sister and the way she looks at me takes away every reservation I had about coming. I meant it when I told her mom I’d do anything for her. Didn’t fully realize how much I meant that until just now.

  “So you met my sister,” Cosette says, motioning for me to come inside.

  “Hello.” I nod politely.

  She holds her hand out primly and I shake it, which seems to be the wrong move. Her nose crinkles up and I forge ahead.

  “I’m Caden Taylor.”

  “Juliette Jacobs,” she says. If haughty is a tone, she has it perfected.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  She presses her lips together and doesn’t say anything else. Louie is still barking his head off, but I don’t see any sign of him. Cosette loops her arm through mine and smiles up at me. Everything feels instantly better.

  “Come with me quick. I want to show you the flowers. I couldn’t stand to leave them behind at work.”

  She grabs my hand and we go up the stairs and down the hall. The house is extravagant and we walk past room after room, coming to a stop in front of a blue bedroom. Everything is blue.

  “Blue is your favorite color?” I ask and she laughs.

  “Pink is actually my favorite color, but Juliette claimed that one when we were little.” She shrugs. “So I got the blue room.”

  I want to paint the entire room pink right then and there, but I remember she’s wanting to move out. I’d want to move out too if I had to live in this museum every day.

  She holds out her arm and that’s when I see the masterpiece. Alice outdid herself. It’s more of an enormous terrarium than a bouquet, with greenery and tiny flowers filling it so that it’s like an exquisite forest. And there, tucked in the moss and miniature ferns, sits a fairy with blonde hair looking wistfully in the distance. Damn, Alice. I need to give her a present.

  “I’ve never seen anything so dreamy,” Cosette gushes. “It is so beautiful, Caden. And it came right when my mom was trying to talk to me about this relationship, so perfect timing.” She laughs. “We had nonstop clients all day long, so Maman is dying to grill me and hasn’t had the opportunity to yet. So dinner should be interesting.” She leans up and kisses me on the cheek. “I should’ve known you’d find a way to make this craziness something special.”

  My cheeks heat up and I reach out and take her hand. “You make it so easy.” I kiss her hand and the skin beneath her freckles turns rosy. “That was quite the kiss last night.”

  Her flush deepens and she looks shy. “I am so sorry about that. You didn�
��t know the mess you were walking into when you agreed to come.”

  “I am not sorry. Not at all.” I smirk. “Here, at your service for as long as you need me.”

  “Oh, I’m sure tonight will do the trick,” she says under her breath.

  A bell rings and her whole posture changes. I can almost see the strain and stress hit her like a tidal wave.

  “Okay. Time for the performance of your life,” she whispers.

  I don’t tell her that this won’t be a performance for me at all, to pretend to be interested in her. I find Cosette Dubois completely captivating. I’m already wondering how I can lengthen this role so I’ll have more time with her.

  Chapter Four

  Cosette

  Caden and I walk into the dining room hand in hand, and I get such satisfaction out of seeing everyone staring at us in shock and dismay. Not because I want to hurt my family or even that I want them to pay such close attention to me, but because this has been a long time coming. They have backed me into a corner about Jeremy and I have put up with it for far too long.

  Beecham stands behind Juliette’s chair as if he’s guarding her from the new hottie in the house. His ears and his forehead shine, the light bouncing off of his frowning face.

  My father doesn’t look much more hospitable, already seated at the head of the table and looking bored. He’s probably tired. He’s getting on up there in years and going by his expression, I’m guessing he didn’t get his early afternoon nap today. He’s been avoiding me every time I make an effort to be alone with him, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it’s the reason I want to move out of here so badly. His rejection stings. I don’t know what I’ve done, and I’m hoping once he accepts my breakup with Jeremy, this will all blow over.

  “Père, this is Caden Taylor. Caden, this is my father, Alban Dubois.”

  Caden reaches out to shake his hand and my dad nods before announcing that he has a headache and excusing himself.

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” Caden says, as my father forces a smile and leaves the room. My heart tugs as I stare at his back. I turn my attention back to the table.

  “My brother-in-law, Beecham.” I hold out my hand toward Beecham, and again, Caden is the one who makes the first move. I feel a wave of pride about him.

  I look around and don’t see my mother or her sidekick. “Where’s Maman?”

  Just then, my mother comes in and Louie is on her heels, dragging a ragged stuffed animal. No. No, no, no.

  “Maman, please don’t let Louie bring Raffi in here tonight.”

  She glances at me and flicks her cream pointy nails over her pink silk blouse. She looks lovely this evening. She even changed after work, something she doesn’t normally do when it’s just us. She must be trying to make an effort for Caden. The thought fills me with warm fuzzies for about .02 seconds. She still hasn’t even looked at Caden. She smiles down at Louie and sits down, and Caden holds out my chair for me before sitting down himself.

  “He won’t bother anyone,” she says, still looking at the dog.

  We’ve not even put our napkins on our laps before Louie runs around and lies down between Caden and me. With Raffi. The completely desecrated giraffe. It’s still quiet as a church between my family when the sounds start. Caden glances at me first with alarm and then realizes it’s coming from the dog. The humping is severe. Louie is making love to Raffi and staring at Caden like he wishes it could be him. It doesn’t help that Louie is also dressed in a red satin robe, channeling his inner Hugh Hefner. My mother has all of his clothes made, and I don’t miss the way Caden studies the monogramming on the dog’s back.

  “Maman,” I hiss. “Please.”

  She laughs and waves her hand like it’s nothing. “He’ll be done soon. He’s French, darling, and he’s had a stressful day. We won’t even hear him once we start eating.”

  Louie came from a breeder in the States. The only thing French about this dog is his wardrobe.

  “I am so sorry, Caden,” I whisper. I can hardly even look at him, I’m so mortified, but when I do, I realize that it’s taking every ounce of his strength to not lose it laughing. He’s laughing but trying so hard to hold it in. It makes me laugh too. He reaches out and takes my hand in his, and everything inside of me instantly calms.

  “Nice of you to join us tonight, Calden,” my mother says.

  I sag into my chair. Not this nonsense again.

  “I’m starting to think you might be losing your memory, Maman, with your names. What a shame to be getting so forgetful at sixty.”

  Her eyes go wide as saucers and her hand flies to her neck. “I am nowhere near sixty, and you know it.”

  “Oh?” I ask, all innocence.

  “I’m barely fifty,” she cries.

  Fifty-seven, but whatever.

  “Maybe you should start a fish oil supplement. I heard that it helps with memory.”

  I wish my father was here. He always gives me that go get em’ tiger look when I stand up to her. I miss our chats. I miss having one person in my corner in this family.

  “So Caden, how did the two of you meet?” Beecham asks.

  “My brothers and I saw Cosette’s work on the Ivy and knew she was the one we wanted for our hotel project.”

  I feel a burst of giddiness inside because the Ivy is the only project I’ve ever done solo. My mom bristles and my bubble pops, but then Caden lifts my hand up to his mouth and kisses it, and you could hear a pin drop. The entire table is staring at us, mouths hanging open.

  “And of course, once I got up the nerve to ask her out, I never dreamed she’d say yes. She’s so beautiful and kind … so talented, but so much more than that. She has an inner beauty that absolutely glows from the inside out.”

  My mouth is hanging open too. He is so, so good at this. And when he looks at me with adoration in his eyes, I have to remember that he’s playing a part that I asked him to play.

  This is not real. I have to repeat that in my head at least five times.

  Apparently, Louie is not happy with how much attention I’ve been getting from his new favorite person because he ups his fervor with Raffi.

  Putain de merde.

  Of course, everyone is too distracted to say anything, so we’re all quiet while Louie reaches his grand finale. When he’s done—yes, thankfully, it does end—he drops Raffi at Caden’s feet like he’s presented him with a gift. He gazes up at Caden with his snaggle smile and Caden shakes his head at him.

  “Glad you’re feeling better, little guy.”

  I have to cover my mouth, I start laughing so hard, and trying to hold it in just makes my shoulders shake harder. Caden’s hand tightens against mine.

  “As I was saying,” Caden continues, his voice choked with laughter, “Cosette is a dream come true for me.”

  I glance at Juliette and she looks like she wants to throw up. Beecham looks perplexed, but that could be from the fact that the man can’t make it through a meal without running to the bathroom. Between his irritable bowel syndrome and leaky gut, combined with my sister’s penchant for French food—the man always appears to be in a state of discomfort. Regardless, both of them seem confused by the idea that I could stir up this kind of passion in someone.

  I know. The idea is ridiculous. No one has ever spoken about me in such poetic terms before, and the fairy garden! Damn. What I wouldn’t give for someone to really feel this way about me.

  Nancy brings our food out, placing each plate in front of us one at a time and then removing the silver domes with a flourish.

  “Nice presentation,” Caden says under his breath.

  We’re barely two bites in when my mother decides to speak. I knew her quietness didn’t bode well. She’s been simmering that I said she was sixty, for one thing.

  “What are your intentions with our daughter, Caden?”

  “Maman! Give the man a break. It’s his first dinner with us.”

  “I can’t wait to hear.” Juliette raises a brow and purses he
r lips.

  “I’d be happy to answer that,” he says.

  Part of me wants to stop him because this is going to be brutal when my family finds out the truth. I’ll never hear the end of it. But the rest of me wants to hear what he’s going to say next.

  “I am going to spend every day showing her how important she is to me until she falls so madly in love with me she won’t want to live without me.”

  Again, every mouth drops. Mine included.

  And then everyone concentrates on their food. I think my mother is afraid to ask any more questions about Caden’s feelings because he’s only making himself look like a saint in my eyes. The peace is short-lived.

  Before the passion fruit and lemon meringue tartlets come out, Maman starts singing the praises of Jeremy. And Beecham and Juliette being the simpering sycophants that they are, quickly follow suit.

  “So, I’m sure you know that Jeremy is practically a part of the family?” my mother says.

  “That’s great for Jeremy. I’m guessing he has a family of his own too, yes?”

  “Yes, of course,” Juliette says and her eyes double in size. “Do you not know who the Toussaints are?”

  “Can’t say I do.” Caden continues eating, completely unfazed.

  “The Toussaints and the Dubois are well-known families in France. Old money families with deep roots, if you know what I mean. Have you heard the term old money before?” Beecham says, with zero expression on his face, and I suddenly hope the cognac dijon cream sauce and tartlets will do a number on his stomach. The thought of my pretentious brother-in-law huddled over the toilet with a bad case of explosive shits, praying to the porcelain gods, gives me some pleasure.

  Caden finishes chewing and nods. “Of course. But in my world, money is money. Old, new, yesterday’s, next week’s—doesn’t much matter to me. I work hard every day and earn every penny I make. I’m proud of the work that I do. That’s enough for me.”

  Juliette gasps and my mother chuckles, and Beecham, well, he’s Beecham. I wish my father was here, because there is a lot of Caden that reminds me of my father.