11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
It was a steamy Monday night in June, but I walked to the restaurant where I always met Paul. I needed time to think.
He wasn’t pressuring me to tell my mother I’d discovered the truth about my paternity. He was letting me make that call regarding when and if I shared that with her.
He was, however, very anxious to tell Auburn and Monty that I was their brother. Paul was in the process of divorcing Chloe—about damn time—and that was helping to heal old wounds with Monty. He talked about it a lot with me. And also about his daughter, Evie, who had gone missing over a decade ago.
God, it was fucking weird to think I had another sister out there somewhere. Was she still alive? I somehow felt drawn to this woman I’d never met, and I wished there was something I could do to find out what happened to her. I could read the pain in Paul’s eyes and hear it in his voice every time he talked about his only daughter.
Maybe I should let him tell Auburn and Monty about me. How would they feel hearing I was their brother? Would they think I was some crook trying to scam a wealthy family? Because that was the absolute last fucking thing I wanted.
Checking my phone, I saw that I still had thirty minutes before I was supposed to meet Paul, so I bought a Diet Coke from a vendor and settled on a park bench a couple blocks from the restaurant. The first sip went down cold and refreshing, the carbonated bubbles adding just the right amount of burn.
It had been around two years since I’d found those letters, and I stared up at the fading sky as I let my mind drift back.
My father wasn’t my father. I allow that realization to roll around in my brain for a while.
I haven’t read all the letters in the box; there are more than twenty years’ worth, after all, but I’ve read enough to learn that Paul Bouvier is the man who gave life to me. Allegedly.
For two weeks I scour online articles and Paul’s Wikipedia page.
That still blows my mind. The man I think is my father has a goddamn Wiki page!
I find that he’s married to a woman named Chloe and has sons named Auburn and Montague. There’s mention of a daughter, Evelyn, who went missing years ago. That sparks my interest, and I spend hours one night poring over what is apparently a cold case. The young woman vanished without a trace.
Paul was head of his company for decades, and his oldest child, Auburn, took over a few years ago. There’s a shit-ton of info on that guy, including lots of pictures of him at events, always with a beautiful woman on his arm.
There’s not much on Montague, or Monty, as I’ve seen him referred to a couple times. But I do find a couple paparazzi photos from around the time the sister went missing. He and Auburn both have the same eyes as me.
Fuck.
Pacing around my apartment in League City, which is between Galveston and Houston, I try to figure this out. I have the basics from my research, but who the hell is the real Paul Bouvier?
I could ask my mother, but I don’t. I’m not sure how I’d even go about bringing it up with her. “Hey, Mama. I found a secret stash of letters that Papa received from a man named Paul Bouvier. Quick question… is he my dad? And can you pass the carrots?”
Yeah, not doing that.
She’s been through enough with losing Papa, and besides, the letters were something he didn’t seem to want her to know about.
No, the only way to get answers is to go directly to the source. But how do I get access to him? The man’s net worth is in the billions, so I’m pretty sure I can’t just waltz up to his door and announce that I have paternity questions for him.
The answer to this conundrum appears later that night when I’m researching the Bouvier fashion company. There’s a “Join Us” tab on the website, and when I click, a list of job openings appears. Right at the top, I see it.
“Driver and Personal Security - Executive Level.”
As I stare at that link, I tap the flat of my thumbnail against my top teeth for so long, I’m concerned I may chip the enamel. And then I click on it.
My fingers tap across the keys as I fill out the application and hit “Send.”
“Whew,” I say on a long exhale and stare at the screen.
Two days later, I receive a reply asking me to come in for an interview.
Quinnie picks me up at the airport, and I give her a bone-crushing hug as she laughs. “I’m so happy you’re here. Noelle is going to freak when I pick her up from preschool and she sees her Uncle Cooz is in the car.”
“I can’t wait to see her,” I say as we climb into the car.
“What made you finally come for a visit?”
I hesitate for a moment before saying, “Actually, I have a job interview. But don’t tell Mama yet. I don’t want to worry her if I don’t get it.”
“Okay, I won’t say anything. What’s the job?”
“Corporate security. The pay is great, and I’d get to be near you.”
“Oh my god, Cruz. Are you serious? You really might move to New York?” Her eyes are wide as she turns on her blinker and enters traffic.
“I probably won’t get it. I’m sure it’s very competitive.”
“They’d have to be stupid not to hire my big brother.”
It turns out Quinnie wasn’t far from the truth. I make it through the first interview with a guy named Tony, and it goes really well. The next day, I’m invited back for an interview with the big man himself, Auburn Bouvier.
Walking into his office, I watch him intently. Does he know about me? Or am I a dirty little secret that’s never spoken of?
When I see no flash of recognition on his face, I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed. During the interview, I find him intelligent and a bit serious. He’s not friendly, but he’s not a dick either. He’s just… straightforward.
I have to force myself to focus because the entire time we’re talking, one question keeps popping into my mind. “Are you my brother?”
“Do you have any questions for me?” he asks when we’re nearing the end.
“I was wondering about weekends. As you saw on my resume, I’ve done police work, and I’d like to apply to be a reserve officer on the force.”
He sits back in his chair and crosses an ankle over his other knee as he flips through my paperwork with one hand. “I think that would be fine. I’ll mostly need you for workdays. Occasionally for weekends if I have an event to attend, but I can give you advance notice.”
“That sounds good.”
He puffs out a sigh that makes him sound older than his thirty-seven years. “For some reason, the damn press finds me interesting, so I like to have a driver that can also serve as security. Your background is very impressive and exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Thank you,” I reply.
When he stands, I do too, and we shake hands. The unspoken question runs through my head again. Are you my brother?
Two days later, I’m offered the position. The first thing I do is call Mama to talk with her about it. I tell her the job is security for a corporate bigwig, the pay is excellent, and housing is included.
She assures me she will be okay and is actually excited that I’ll be near Quinnie and Noelle. She worries about my sister living in the big city since her husband, Flynn, works such long hours at the hospital.
Thank god my mother isn’t a clinger. She’s always said that she never wants to keep her little birds cooped up in her nest. She wants us all to fly.
So I take a chance and accept the job with the man I’m pretty sure is my brother.
Only a few weeks into my training, I’m working solo when Bouvier calls me on the phone. “Cruz, I’m meeting with my father in my office today. I need you to go pick him up and bring him here. Tony has the address.”
“Yes, sir,” I say as my heart tries to pump out of my chest. This is it. I wasn’t sure it would ever happen, but I’m finally going to meet Paul Bouvier.
I find the address after making only one wrong turn and pull up to the security gate. They check my credentials and allow me to pass through. The house is like a damn palace, and I steel myself as I pull into the circular driveway.
Getting out of the car, I leave it running as I round the back. Before I can approach the house, the front door opens, and I instantly recognize the man who exits. My feet forget how to work, stopping my body near the back door of the Bentley.
Paul has a smile on his face as he walks down the steps in a perfectly tailored light-gray suit. Then he meets my eyes.
I can see instantly the way his face changes. It’s teeming with shock but he doesn’t look angry. He takes another two steps and stops a few feet away from me, his eyes never leaving mine.
A lump rises in my throat, and I swallow it down. “Do you know who I am?” I ask, and he nods.
“Yes, Cruz. I know who you are.”
Christ. He recognizes me. Is this really happening? Wetting my lips, I ask the question that’s been burning through me since I first found those letters.
“Are you my father?”
A tentative smile pulls the corners of his lips upward, and he nods once again as his eyes shine with unshed tears.
“Yes. I am.”
Tonight’s dinner was going well. Paul brought up the idea of talking to Auburn and Monty again, but he dropped it when I said I wasn’t ready. It was one of the things I admired about him. He never pressured me. Plus, I think we both enjoyed our secret dinners together, just talking and learning about each other.
“Is something bothering you?” he asked in that intuitive way he had.
Poking my salmon with my fork, I chewed on the inside of my cheek before speaking. “I like this girl, but she’s off-limits.”
Paul chuckles. “I’ve been in that situation before.”
I knew he was referring to my mother, and I smiled. He’d always been completely honest with me about falling in love with her.
“It’s not exactly like that. She’s getting married to someone else, so I know it’s a no-go. But I still really care about her, and…” I searched for the words. “I’m worried about her, Paul. For the past few months, she’s been different. She rarely smiles anymore, and god, she has the best smile. I’ve missed seeing it.”
“Have you asked her what’s wrong?”
“I have, and she says it’s nothing. I can tell something is bothering her though, and it looks like she’s lost weight.” I shrug. “I guess I’m at a loss as to what I should do next. She’s so withdrawn, and I don’t know how to help her with… whatever.”
His lips pressed together in sympathy. “There’s not much you can do until she’s ready to talk about it. I’d say just be there for her. Don’t pressure her to tell you what’s wrong because that may drive her farther away.”
“You’re right,” I said, taking a bite of my fish. “She lives near me, so maybe I’ll drop by more often, just to say hi or whatever.”
“That’s a good idea. Let her know she has a friend if she needs one.” Paul’s eyebrows lifted infinitesimally. “She’s just a friend, right?”
“That’s all it can ever be,” I told him, trying not to let the disappointment of that show on my face.
I was still thinking about our conversation when I exited the elevator on my floor and paused beside Lehra’s door. Maybe I should see if she wants to go get ice cream or something.
As I raised my hand to knock, I heard something from inside her apartment. What the hell? Was that a sob? Listening closely, I heard it again. Yes, she was definitely crying.
“Lehra?” I called, knocking on the door in a panic.
“Y-yes?” The raw misery in that stuttered word was gut wrenching
“What’s wrong?” I asked gently.
“N-nothing. I’m fine.” It sounded like she was right on the other side of the door.
“You’re not fine. Open up and talk to me.”
“No, it’s… I’m fine,” she repeated, and I felt as though I was about to bust out of my skin. She was obviously the furthest thing from fine .
Putting some force behind my words, I called out, “Open the fucking door right now, Lehra, or I swear to god, I’ll break it down.”