Rue Toulouse (9 page)

Elaine chuckled. “If he only knew you’ve already met his buddy Remi—and how well acquainted you two are.”

Caterine smiled. “Yeah, well, you need to nip this in the bud.”

“Why? Paul says he’s a nice guy, and you know he wouldn’t introduce you to someone who was a jerk. Besides, I thought you wanted to change your life and start having some fun. Remi sounds like the perfect one to help you do that.”

Caterine sighed. “I’m afraid if I pursue this with Remi, I’ll be setting myself up for another fall. He could have a string of broken hearts all over Louisiana. And I’m not ready to take the risk of being the next one.”

“How do you know he’s going to hurt you? You’re making assumptions about him without giving him a chance. Didn’t he try and protect you from Jonathan? And didn’t he come searching for you last night after you ran away?”

Caterine pinched the bridge of her nose, willing a threatening headache to go away. “I didn’t say he wasn’t interested in me. I said I don’t trust him.”

“You trusted him enough to have sex with him. Cat, I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t have let that happen unless you felt something for him. So why not take a chance and let him prove you wrong? You can’t spend the rest of your life afraid to let people close. Do you want to end up some alone, bitter, sourpuss old lady?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, aren’t you being a little dramatic?”

“No, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Cat, if you could survive all the crap your family handed you, I’m sure you can handle whatever happens between you and Remi. You need to give him a chance.”

“All right, I’ll think about it. But between my aunts, Grandmère and Ma Chérie, I can’t deal with Remi right now. So, for the time being, you need to get Paul’s mind on something besides matchmaking.”

“Okay, but I’m not going to let this go. I’ll see what I can do with Paul, but what should I tell him?”

“I don’t know. Tell him I’m too busy or something. Elaine, there’s the bell. I’ll bet it’s Paul. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Paul walked into Caterine’s office and sat in the chair across from her desk. “I’ve checked out your entry doors, and I have some ideas for a new system.”

“Great, what do you suggest?”

“First, you can eliminate changing the locks and worrying about keys by installing a coded key pad.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a pad that you program with a series of four numbers. It goes right on the door where the lock is now. It’s more convenient than messing with keys, and you can change the code whenever you want.”

“Could we put one on my office door?”

Paul went to examine the door. “I don’t see why not.”

“Great.”

“As I said, I can have it done tomorrow. If you want, I’ll also install cameras so you can see who’s at the front and back doors.”

“That would be perfect. Paul, I really appreciate you doing this.”

He grinned. “Tell me that when you get my bill. I’ll see you around nine tomorrow morning. Hey, you know what?” He turned in the doorway, a wide smile spreading across his craggy face. “The guy I was telling you about—Remi—he’ll be helping me do the job. You’ll get to meet him then.”

Not if I can help it,
Caterine thought as she followed Paul from the room.

Caterine entered the front parlor of the Doucette Audubon Place mansion as her Uncle Jules was handing around the family’s before-dinner cocktails. Just turning sixty, of medium height with silver flecks throughout his chestnut hair, he was still a handsome man.

“There you are, Caterine,” Miss Dauphine said, seated in her customary high-backed brocade chair to the right of the Adams fireplace. “I was concerned you wouldn’t be joining us.”

As Jules handed his mother a glass of sherry, he turned to face Caterine. In a slow cultured drawl he admonished, “Mother said you were at Ma Chérie. On a Sunday.” He shook his head. “Caterine, I swear you’re working way too hard. You’re spending more time there than is good for you. I’m sure your Aunt Frances or Aunt Hyacinth would be willing to take some of your burden. Now, what can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll have a glass of Cabernet, thanks,” Caterine replied, taking a seat on a deep-rose settee. As she waited for her wine, Caterine inwardly sighed with pleasure at the well-appointed room. Rose and cream moiré drapes were pulled back from floor-to-ceiling French windows that looked out on the wide veranda. A Baccarat chandelier cast a warm glow over the empire-style furnishings arranged upon a thick Aubusson rug of rose, cream, and soft blue.

“Jules is right, Miss Dauphine. As Hyacinth and I have been saying, we’d be happy to take on more responsibility,” Frances said, accepting a gin and tonic from her husband. “And since someday Charlotte will be the head of Ma Chérie, it’s important that she learns more about the store. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”

Caterine glanced from Frances to her cousin Charlotte, who fidgeted in her seat and looked at her watch. “Yes, Mother, certainly.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn more about the business,” Paulette added. “It all sounds so fascinating.”

Hyacinth turned her large ice-blue eyes toward Caterine. “I’m sure you’d be happy to teach Paulette anything she needed to know, wouldn’t you?”

Not waiting for Caterine to reply, Paulette clapped her chubby little hands. “Oh, that would be wonderful. I can’t wait to begin.”

Paulette’s mood swings always amazed Caterine. One minute she was all sugary sweetness, the next bitter venom. A few months earlier, days before their wedding, Paulette’s fiancé, Travis Jenkins, had broken their engagement. Since then, Paulette’s venom had surfaced more and more frequently.

Caterine silently shook her head. How Bobby, with his even-tempered pleasant disposition, could be Paulette’s younger brother amazed her.

“Miss Dauphine, I hope you’ve had a chance to think over the ideas we talked about earlier,” Frances said. “I understand tradition is important, but it’s time for Ma Chérie to leave the nineteenth century and advance forward with fresh new concepts.”

“Absolutely,” Hyacinth agreed. “Ma Chérie’s clothing is too stuffy. We really need to liven up our line and make it more fun and affordable. Like the clothing I make for myself and Paulette.”

Caterine peered over the top of her wineglass, waiting for her grandmother’s reaction. She knew the only reason they were having this conversation was that her aunts were hoping to gain their husbands’ support.

Miss Dauphine’s dark eyes went from Hyacinth to Frances. She cleared her throat. “I will say this one last time, then this nonsense will cease. Ma Chérie’s clothing has always been, and shall always be, elegant and chic. This is the standard our clientele expects, and this is what our clientele will receive. To do otherwise would be unacceptable not only to me, but to those who have patronized the salon for over a century. There are plenty of other clothing establishments that cater to people with your taste, Hyacinth.”

Bravo, Grandmère.
Caterine silently applauded. Her attention was drawn to her uncle Markus, whose low nervous chuckle filled the quiet room.

“Now, ladies,” he drawled, “you can discuss Ma Chérie business all you wish later, but here’s Flora announcing dinner and I’m ready to eat.” He rose to his feet. “Mother, may I escort you in?”

As they all stood, Caterine noticed the lines creasing Markus’ brow and the dark circles under his eyes. His efforts to keep up with his young nephew Randal seemed to be taking a toll.

“Jules, where are Raymond and Randal?” Frances snapped, clearly furious over Miss Dauphine’s rebuke. “I thought you said they’d both be here for dinner.”

Jules put his arm around his wife. “They must have gotten delayed. The boys are grown men with lives of their own. You have to stop fussing over them.”

Delayed, all right,
Caterine thought, trailing the others from the room,
at the casino or in some whorehouse.

Chapter Nine

The following morning, Caterine sat in her office nervously tapping her fingers, trying to hold back the panic that threatened to overtake her. Her eyes were glued to the digital clock sitting on her polished cherrywood desk, watching anxiously as the time changed from 8:45 to 8:46, and her aunts still weren’t there. Paul, with Remi in tow, was due to arrive at nine o’clock to install the new alarms.

Why didn’t I give Paul a key so he could let himself in?
The digital display now said 8:52, and, for the first time in her life, she was ecstatic to hear the sound of her aunts’ voices as they came through the front door. A sigh of relief had no sooner left her lips when Paul’s voice had her moving. She grabbed her bag and was halfway out the back door when she heard her Aunt Frances calling her name.

A few hours later, Caterine hurried across Jackson Square and entered Le Tea Pot’s hot-pink front door as the St. Louis Cathedral’s bells chimed the hour. Directed to the courtyard, Caterine found Elaine ensconced at a corner table, flanked by two tall potted plants.

“Hi. Have you been here long?” Caterine asked, gratefully taking her seat.

“Long enough to order a Bloody Mary. You look as if you could use one yourself.”

“You have no idea how much.” Caterine caught the waitress’ eye and pointed at Elaine’s drink.

“Before you tell me all the juicy details of how you ended up with Remi in my arbor, I’ve been dying to hear how you avoided being seen by him this morning.” Elaine cocked her head. “Or did you?”

“Yes, I did, and it was a real nightmare. This is turning into some farcical TV sitcom. I had to tell my aunts I needed them to come in early because I had an appointment, which I did, but not until ten o’clock. They got there seconds before Paul and Remi came through the front door. I literally was running out the back as they came in the front. And you can stop laughing. This situation isn’t funny.”

“Oh, but it is.” Elaine doubled over in laughter.

“Stop that,” Caterine demanded, but her own lips were twitching.

“Okay, I’ll quit.” Elaine wiped her eyes. “But I still don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about seeing Remi again. Besides, how are you going to keep from running into him here in the Quarter?”

Caterine shrugged. “I’ll have to deal with that if it happens. Now do you want to hear where I’ve been? And what my grandmère has done?”

“No.” Elaine gasped when she’d finished. “You now are the sole owner of Ma Chérie?”

She nodded. “That’s right. Grandmère is going to tell the family tonight after dinner.”

“I can’t believe this. You owning Ma Chérie. How wonderful.” Suddenly Elaine’s exuberance left her face. “Oh God, Caterine, your family is going to throw a fit when they hear this.”

“No kidding. I wish I could let Grandmère tell them on her own, but that would be too cowardly.”

Elaine knitted her brows. “I suppose. So how are you going to handle your rampaging relatives?”

Caterine took a long sip of her drink, then her mouth formed a firm line. “Grandmère has entrusted me with a business she holds dear, and I intend to honor that trust. And no matter how loud or how long they scream, there’s absolutely nothing they can do about it. Ma Chérie is mine.”