Chapter 25 – Rebel
Diesel: I miss you.
Good. Rebel smirked at her phone.
Momma: The car is here, sweetheart.
Diesel: I’m sorry.
Until the next fucking time.
Diesel: Talk to me. Respond. Even if it’s a fuck you.
Yeah, fuck you.
There, she’d said it. Satisfied that he was so miserable, Rebel muted her phone, then stuck it in her little purse before going to the mirror on the inside of Harley’s closet door. She loved her sapphire bandage mini dress with the big bow and thin straps.
Grinning at herself, she turned, tossed her hair over her shoulder and admired the bottom of the dress, since her hair covered the top part. Maybe she should’ve worn it up. But it was too late now.
She grabbed her leather coat that she had to have the moment she saw it, then hurried out of the room.
“Are you sure you two will be okay?” Momma asked, her voice carrying down the hall as Rebel reached the bottom step.
Her heels clicked across the floor before she reached the living room and found her mother in the same dress, but red. Rebel almost needed to do handstands to convince Momma that it was okay to twin. The dress had been in the women’s department, so Rebel didn’t see a problem.
Kaia and Axel gaped at her and Rebel beamed.
“You’re the second beautifulest girl in the whole world, Reb,” Axel gushed. “Mom’s the first.”
“Thank you, Ax,” she said, anxious to get to wherever Momma was bringing her for dinner. She smiled at Kaia and spun. “What do you think?”
It shouldn’t matter, but it did. He’d been acting so weird, almost tiptoeing around Momma and barely able to meet Rebel’s gaze.
“I have no fucking words, Reb,” he told her, the admiration on his face easing her mind.
Whatever had him so distracted wasn’t about her.
“You know what, Mom?” Axel said. “If another beautiful girl had a white dress on, you’d look like the flag.”
Rebel smiled at her little brother. She didn’t think he meant it as it sounded.
Momma hugged Axel. “Behave,” she said, not commenting on the flag thing. “Do not do anything to Kaia.”
Rocking on his heels, Axel cut his eyes at Kaia. “He looks stupid with that hairstyle.”
“That you gave to him.”
Axel sidled his gaze to Rebel and huffed.
“I’m going to shave it,” Kaia said.
“No!” Rebel cried. “You have beautiful hair.”
“That don’t have none in the middle,” Axel said.
“Okay, enough,” Momma said sharply. “We’ll be late for our reservations. If you need me, call me.” She smiled at Rebel. “Come on, love.”
As restaurants went, this one was the top of the line with waiters in clothes that resembled a tux, a Ma?tre d’, handsome men and gorgeous women. Rebel couldn’t smell the food for the scent of money in the air.
She smiled. No one knew her there. She wasn’t Daddy’s daughter or CJ’s little sister. She wasn’t the traumatized girl who was trying her best to move past last week.
“I have a reservation for two.” Momma’s wedding set and the blue diamond ring on her other hand added flair to her hodge podge of diamond pieces that included her Rolex, earrings, and necklace. “Megan Caldwell.”
“Yes,” the man said, glancing from Momma to Rebel, and nodding in approval. “Mrs. Caldwell, it is a pleasure to welcome you.” He looked at Rebel. “May I take your coat?”
“Of course,” Momma said before Rebel responded.
When she handed over the full-length leather coat, Rebel almost asked if she’d get it back.
“May I kindly confirm your reservation and see a form of ID?”
Without hesitation, Momma produced her driver’s license…and Rebel’s ID…?
She snapped her brows together.
“Your table is ready. May I escort you there?”
Momma nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
The man reminded Rebel of a butler, taking the lead, walking slightly ahead, indicating with a small movement of his open hand the pathway in an aisle between tables against a wall and one on the edge of the main dining room.
Rebel swiveled her head in every direction, unable to believe some of the familiar faces she saw. Not that she knew them, but one was a big movie star, another was a baller.
Clearing her throat, Momma grabbed Rebel’s hand and guided her forward. “Head up, eyes engaged, smile on your face, and a confident stride,” she said in low tones.
Rebel forced herself to do as her mother instructed, amazed at the attention, even from famous people, turning their way. Momma powered forward, ignoring everyone, while Rebel was awed by it all.
“Everyone is so beautiful, Momma. Sparkling—”
Momma squeezed her hand. “It isn’t about a display of wealth. It’s about grace and refinement. You are not gazing into the window, wishing you could be a part of this. You’re here. Enjoy the moment.”
“I will,” Rebel promised, lowering her gaze because that was the only way not to gawk.
At the table, Rebel reached for her chair, forgetting the typical routine at J’s. Daddy pulled out Momma’s seat and CJ or Diesel always assisted Rebel.
Another clearing of her throat and Rebel dropped her hand, allowing the ma?tre d’ to seat her while another man materialized seeming from thin air. Rebel took Momma’s cue as the ma?tre d’ placed a napkin in her lap; the other man did the same with Rebel.
She blinked, and Momma’s chair was adjusted.
“Your captain this evening will be Charles. Julien will guide you through the wines.”
“Good evening.” Charles gave a slight nod to Momma, then to Rebel. Two immaculately dressed staff members came to the table and filled crystal glasses with water. “Have you dined with us before?”
Noticing the bubbles in her glass, Rebel frowned. If that was sparkling water, she hoped it was good.
“This is our first time,” Momma said.
“Wonderful. This evening you’ll be enjoying our Spring Impérial tasting. The experience is designed to unfold progressively — from delicate shellfish to earthy truffles. Please let us know of any dietary considerations.”
“No restrictions,” Momma responded.
“Perfect.”
Julien replaced Charles in a perfectly timed, coordinated move. “May I offer you a glass of champagne to begin, or would you prefer to explore the pairing for the evening?” He had a very slight accent.
Meeting his gaze, Momma nodded. “Please. We’re also interested in the pairing. Perhaps something more elegant than bold.”
He smiled slightly. “An excellent choice for this menu.” He picked up a bottle of champagne from a silver holder, opening it quietly. Rebel missed the ‘pop’ of the cork. He poured her and Momma a glass. “I’ll guide you toward wines you will enjoy.”
How would he know, though?
“I look forward to it,” Momma said, and left it at that.
He walked away.
Momma tasted her champagne. “Taste yours, love.”
“Did you give them a fake ID for me?”
“Our secret,” she said. “But you only get one glass. I will finish this.” She nodded to her glass. “It’s delicious. However, the amount of wine I will be plied with? I’ll be carried out on a stretcher. So I take a few sips and smile gracefully.”
Rebel’s eyes widened. “You’ve been to this type of place before?”
“Several times. With your daddy. When we are on vacation, especially in Europe when it is just the two of us.”
Before Rebel responded, Julien returned with a bottle of white wine and a glass. He set the glass on the table, then poured a measure of wine. “2008 Salon Blanc de Blancs. Please take a moment.”
Momma obligingly tasted.
“Notice the tension and length — it will frame the langoustine beautifully.”
“It will,” Momma agreed.
“Very good,” he said, leaving them again and not revealing the evening’s dinner specials.
“That’s rude,” Rebel grumbled. “We don’t even have our menus yet.”
“And we won’t get them, sweetheart. In this, we trust the staff and let them guide us on a culinary adventure.”
Rebel tasted the champagne again. She liked how the bubbles danced on her tongue. “I can’t picture Daddy…” A lift of Momma’s brow made her flush. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “It’s true, though.”
“Do you know your grandfather took Christopher and your uncle to Europe every year, for five or six years? He went to cultivate contacts and help get chapters up and running over there. But that isn’t all he did, he also exposed them to the other side of life.”
Rebel had heard something to that effect. Several times as a matter of fact, but it went right over her head.
“They understood there was a big, wide world out there, outside of the club.”
“I would’ve been pissed if I were you. He could’ve taken you.”
“There are reasons he didn’t. I still experienced it. Just not with him.”
“With Daddy,” Rebel said.
“Yes.”
Unable to stop herself, Rebel glanced all around again. “I can get used to this.”
Momma laughed. “I’m sure you can, and it’s yours if you want it. You don’t have to tie yourself to the club. You can go to college. Experience that side of life. I did not fight so hard on your behalf for you to throw away all your opportunities.” She reached her hand across the table.
Reluctantly, Rebel placed her hand in her mother’s.
“The world is yours for the taking. Do so.”
Charles returned to the table, carrying a plate. A woman walked beside him also carrying a plate. They set them in front of Momma and Rebel at the same time, their movements synchronized.
“Breton langoustine with Kristal caviar and spring herb gelée. The sweetness of the shellfish is balanced by the salinity of the caviar and a touch of Amalfi lemon.”
Fuck, caviar? She hated those little balls of salt.
Although Momma picked up her fork, Rebel absolutely wouldn’t unless she could scrape the caviar away.
“How is the temperature for you?” Charles asked.
Momma waited until she finished chewing. “Perfect.”
And they were gone again.
“You aren’t eating?”
“I hate those fish balls.”
“Fish eggs.”
“They could be fish eyes,” Rebel hissed. “I don’t like them.”
“Look, sweetheart.”
Dropping her gaze to the movement of Momma’s small fork, Rebel saw her scrape a layer away stealthily. “Always adapt. Figure out your surroundings and make them fit so you’ll be relatively comfortable. It doesn’t always work. Scrape the caviar away and try the langostinos.”