The Grump (The Leblanc Brothers #3)

Chapter One

Xander

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“Xander, your grandparents are here,” my assistant, Lydia, said, poking her head into my office.

“Great. Bring them in, please.”

She smiled, looking a bit unsure of herself, which wasn’t like her at all. Then again, my grandparents—especially my grandmothers—could be a bit intimidating for those who didn’t know them well.

As they stepped into my office, I was overwhelmed with pride to be their grandson.

David and Isabeau LeBlanc and Celine and Felix Broussard were pillars of the Orleans Conglomerate. My five brothers and I were running the businesses now, after Dad ran it for decades, and we did so very successfully. But they were the reason the company had lasted for so many generations.

“So glad you could make time to come.”

“It’s not every day that the four of us are summoned into one of our grandsons’ offices. Do we have a reason to worry, darling?” Celine asked.

The two families were at odds once upon a time—they’d been rivals in business and dead set against my parents marrying—but now they were very tight.

“No, not at all.”

“I still don’t know why you don’t have an office in the French Quarter like everyone else,” Felix said, strolling to the window.

I’d chosen the financial district as my home base, with no regrets. “I can focus better here,” I replied honestly. “For me, the Quarter is for fun, not for working.”

“I quite like the view,” David exclaimed. He was sitting in one of the four chairs I’d arranged in front of my desk. “Since you asked us here, I’m assuming you mean business?”

I nodded. The Orleans Conglomerate was a vast enterprise that was doing extremely well. We dabbled in a lot of things, from shipping to restaurants, bakeries to bars, and several other types of businesses in between.

“As I told you before, I aim to make the Orleans Conglomerate as profitable as possible.” I leaned forward with my elbows on my desk, hoping they’d agree with what I was about to suggest.

“Yes,” Isabeau said in a warning tone. I bet she already knew where I was going with this.

“It’s about the confectionery, isn’t it?” Celine said, sighing.

I’d already mentioned this to them once before, in passing. But now I’d actually crunched the numbers properly, and that business had to go.

I looked from one grandparent to another, ending with Celine. The confectionery business was something she and Isabeau had started together years ago, which was why I wanted to break this to them face-to-face.

“I’ve been running the numbers, and several of our businesses aren’t profitable. The confectionery is the worst offender.”

Celine looked down at her hands as Isabeau sighed. “Oh, my boy. That was a passion project that Celine and I started years ago.”

“I know that,” I chimed in with as gentle a voice as I could, “but it makes no sense to keep it going.”

David looked at his wife and then turned to me. “Grandson, we can’t tell you what to do or not to do. You know the deal in our family. When someone chooses to retire, they also give up any decision rights.”

“I know, but I wanted to discuss this with you all, as I didn’t want it to come as a shock.” I found their approach very smart. Too many decision-makers could lead to problems, and with all my brothers, it was tough enough as it was.

We’d been successful with the way we were managing different branches of the business so no one would step on anyone’s toes. I was the self-appointed CFO. I’d gotten into it by mistake, and I realized I liked working with numbers. They were black-and-white and told a clean-cut story. My ambition was to make the Orleans Conglomerate the most profitable it had ever been. That was the main reason I didn’t make decisions with my emotions. Some business branches had sentimental value to my grandparents, I knew. For me, they were simply relics of times past.

“What do you intend to do?” Celine asked.

“I haven’t totally decided yet. The easiest thing would be to just sell it off.”

“But we’ve put so much work into it,” Isabeau said.

“Careful, grandson. They’re going to start with a guilt trip,” David cautioned.

I laughed. “It’s their prerogative.”

“It makes no sense to keep it. It never did,” Isabeau sighed. “But it was something we enjoyed doing.”

“You want to sell it now ?” Celine asked, clearly affronted.

“Well, that’s a good point, dear. With Christmas peeping around the corner, it’s the busiest time for the business,” Isabeau added.

“The numbers are strongest this time of year. They make the most pralines around Christmas,” I said.

“ We make the most pralines,” Isabeau corrected. It was obvious that these two were still invested in the business.

“Let me assess it all and see what’s best. Nothing will happen around Christmastime, as everyone is too busy ending their year to scout for new businesses.”

“Have you ever been to the confectionery?” Isabeau asked.

“No, Isabeau, I haven’t.” I didn’t have time to visit businesses that didn’t even cover their costs.

“Do pay a visit,” Celine said, “but after we do! We’d like to tell the LeCarre girls in person that things might change.”

“I was going to take a look at the place anyway. It’s part of the assessment.”

That seemed to appease them a bit, until Isabeau shook her head and said, “One of these days, I hope you’ll grow a heart, young man. Now you’ve got a stone.”

Oh boy.

“Isabeau, don’t be like that,” Celine chastised. “Xander simply wants to improve profits. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I agree,” David said. I could always count on the grandfathers.

I looked at him. “You know, I’m surprised this business survived all these years. Especially after Dad took it over.”

David started to laugh. “Xander, one day you’ll realize that even the toughest man wants to keep his wife happy. Always been my motto, and Felix’s too. ‘Happy wife, happy life.’ These two were happy as clams out there at their confectionery, messing around with chocolate recipes. They kept saying it was their way of blowing off steam, which never made sense to me. It’s just exchanging one kitchen for the other.”

“It’s not even remotely the same,” Isabeau countered.

“These two always left us to our own devices,” Celine said with affection. “And your dad...”

“Well, he has a bit more heart than you,” Isabeau went on.

I was laughing in earnest now. “Isabeau, this is more guilt-tripping than I was expecting from you, I have to admit.”

“The Orleans Conglomerate is very successful. I don’t see how having a branch or two that don’t perform is going to hurt that much,” she replied.

“It’s about the principle. Anything that bleeds money needs to be cut off.”

Isabeau shook her head theatrically. “Oh, Xander. You truly are hopeless.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Where everyone saw me as cutthroat, I saw myself as precise. When they said I was hopeless, I knew I was focused. There were only so many hours in a day; there was no point in dabbling in stuff that wasn’t worth the effort.

“Well, thank you for telling us,” Celine said. “Your secretary mentioned that you have another meeting starting in... oh, look at that, five minutes, so we’d best get a move on.”

“She said that?” I was stunned.

“I believe the implication was that we shouldn’t overstay our welcome.”

My assistant knows I like to keep things on schedule and probably just said that as a normal reaction.

“I’m sorry. That’s true for everyone except family. You’re welcome to stay longer.”

“But then we’d be interrupting your meeting,” Isabeau countered.

“Yes, but it can wait.”

“Just promise me something,” Isabeau said. “You’ll go out to the LeBlanc-Broussard confectionery with an open mind and look at everything they’ve been doing. The business brings people joy.”

“I’ll keep an open mind,” I said, but it was more for their sake. There was no possibility of my seeing anything there that would tell another story than the financial one. “Are you heading to the Quarter? I can join you for drinks later.”

“We’re going back to the perfume shop, of course,” Celine said briskly.

“Of course you are.” I smiled at both of my grandmothers.

After retiring, the two of them opened a fragrance shop on Decatur Street. They spent most of their days there.

“If you’re buying, I can definitely take a walk around until everyone’s done with work,” David said cheerfully.

Unlike their other halves, he and Felix had decided that once they left the family business, they wanted to dedicate their entire retirement to fishing. Which they had so far.

“But seriously, Xander, you should get to know Avery and Bailey,” Celine said.

“I think you’ll quite like the LeCarre girls,” Isabeau added.

That was neither here nor there. Me liking or disliking the employees in charge of any of the businesses wasn’t going to sway my decision.

“Right. We’ll be going, then,“ Isabeau concluded.

Her tone was a little bit chillier than usual, but I was expecting that. I probably could’ve broken the news in a gentler manner, but I wasn’t very good at that. This was how I operated.

“You know, Bella won’t be very happy about it,” she continued. “She loves the pralines.”

Now that was a low blow because I had a soft spot for my niece. She’d been the first baby in the family. Now my brother Chad had recently welcomed another baby girl—Simone—with his fiancée.

“I’ll make sure she still gets them,” I assured her as they left the office.

My family was tight-knit, and we were always honest with one another. It was what I always told Bella—no matter the situation, honesty would win.

That little girl had held my heart since the moment she was born, and now she was almost ten years old. Her two passions in life were beignets and Harry Potter. I couldn’t really do much about the latter, but I helped with the former as often as possible.

Isabeau’s words came back to me: “Bella won’t be very happy about it.”

Leave it to Isabeau to fight as dirty as possible. But she wasn’t going to sway me. Nothing would, not even meeting Avery and her sister, Bailey. Only the numbers mattered.