The Rebel (The Leblanc Brothers #5)

1. Anthony

ANTHONY

“Anthony, you’re definitely giving us a run for our money,” Grandpa David teased. We’d been out on the bayou for hours, fishing.

Felix nodded. “Congratulations on catching the most fish today.”

Everything in the LeBlanc-Broussard household was a competition. Frankly, I was surprised that I did so well, considering the two of them came here much more often than I did. Then again, I did distract them by asking for their advice on my latest business decision.

Both of my grandfathers used to run The Orleans Conglomerate, a selection of very successful businesses, eons ago as co-CEOs.

My father ran it after them, and now my five brothers and I were in charge.

I was closest to my grandfathers compared to the rest of my brothers, except perhaps Beckett.

Both had already retired when I was a kid, so we spent a lot of time together—mostly fishing.

“I’m sure the grandmothers will be happy with what we’ve got,” I said.

David laughed. “Not at all. Celine keeps saying that a chef needs variety, and we can never bring back too many fish. ”

My grandmothers had been involved in the conglomerate as well.

They’d been the chefs at our flagship restaurant, LeBlanc-Broussard.

It was located in the French Quarter on Royal Street.

Even today, we often met at the restaurant for special family events and weekly get-togethers. It was also that we had our offices.

“Son, I think it’s the right decision for you to focus more on the larger venues,” David said. He’d been quieter than Felix after I asked them for input, but that was par for the course. He always thought things over for a while before offering any advice.

“Thanks.” That had been my intention as well, but it was good to hear that these two masterminds agreed with me.

I was in charge of all the music venues the conglomerate owned—from small jazz joints to huge concert halls.

Once we loaded all the fish in the trunk of the car, I asked, “Who wants to ride shotgun?”

The two of them started bickering, and I was trying hard to fight laughter. Things with these two never got dull. In the end, David won, and then we were on our way back to New Orleans.

Just before gunning the engine, I checked my emails, as it was a force of habit now. I wasn’t a workaholic by any means, but I liked to stay on top of my inbox so it wasn’t bursting on Monday morning.

The very first one made me groan.

Alicia put in her resignation, effective immediately. So sorry about that. I’ll see about finding you a new assistant right away.

I groaned, deciding not to look at my inbox any longer.

“What’s the matter?” David asked.

“I guess I’m looking for a new assistant. Again ,” I replied.

“You change them often, don’t you?” Felix inquired from the back seat.

“I have very high demands for my assistants.” I was laid-back, but I expected things to be done a certain way.

More specifically, my way. I couldn’t believe Alicia had flaked out so soon.

We’d hired her less than a month ago. Though, if I were being honest, I saw pretty quickly that she wouldn’t be able to do the job.

“How long did you keep this one?” Felix asked, as if reading my mind.

“A little over a month.”

Both of them went silent. I looked at Felix in the rearview mirror.

He spoke first. “You might want to be careful with that. Word will get around that you’re difficult to work with.”

“I’m not difficult,” I countered. “Everyone knows that.”

“Everyone who isn’t your assistant. Last time we talked to Dorothy, she said it’s becoming very difficult to find assistants for you.”

Dorothy was the head of human resources and a friend of the family too.

I turned my head to briefly look at David in the passenger seat.

“When did you talk to Dorothy?” My grandparents weren’t involved in the company anymore—not at all.

It was an unspoken agreement in the family that once someone retired, they stayed out of the business—unless they were specifically asked for assistance.

“We were at breakfast at LeBlanc-Broussard. She saw us and came by,” Felix explained.

I was going to have a word or two with her.

Was I being difficult? My whole life, I’d prided myself on being the easygoing brother. Yet I couldn’t deny that I had lost a lot of assistants in the past year.

I started to mentally go through them. One, two… Well, fuck, I’d had six assistants this year alone. I didn’t even want to think about the previous years.

We offered our hires an excellent employee package, and I made sure that no one on my team worked longer than the required hours. They were neither underpaid nor overworked. So, why did they quit?

“See? Told you he was going to come to the same conclusion as us,” Felix said conversationally.

“Nah, he’s still fighting it,” David went on.

“No one has complained about working for me,” I stated, maybe a bit defensively.

“People don’t complain to their boss. They quit. Or they inform HR of their complaints.”

My jaw ticked. “And yet Dorothy hasn’t mentioned any complaints. I’ll have a chat with her,” I said.

“You do that. But don’t tell her we spoke to you,” Felix added.

“Noted.”

Apparently, she’d asked them not to tell me. That wasn’t okay.

We talked about fishing for the rest of the two-hour drive, right until we reached the Garden District. My parents and both sets of grandparents lived together in a huge mansion. We found my grandmothers busy in the kitchen when we entered.

“You boys have been productive,” Isabeau said as I kissed her cheek.

“I got the biggest catch this time,” I boasted.

“Goodness, you distracted our men well, then,” Celine replied.

My grandmothers knew me to a T.

“Uncle Anthony, you’re back,” my niece Bella chanted, bursting into the kitchen.

I turned around. “Hey, cricket. I didn’t know you were here.” Bella was ten years old, but for me, she was still a small kid. Some days I couldn’t believe how quickly time passed.

“She’s spending the whole day here with us. She wants to learn how to make my famous jambalaya,” Isabeau said proudly.

I exchanged a glance with my grandfathers, but none of us said anything.

My grandmothers were very proud of their recipes.

My brother Chad’s wife, Scarlett, was the current chef at LeBlanc-Broussard.

She was following Isabeau’s recipe for the restaurant’s famous jambalaya and could’ve shown it to Bella.

But this meant a lot to Isabeau, and Scarlett knew it.

Then again, Scarlett had her hands full these days.

When she wasn’t at the restaurant, she spent time with Simone—she was only two years old and loved being in her mom’s arms.

“Uncle Anthony, I need to ask you something,” Bella said seriously.

“All right. Fire away.” I wondered why she wanted to talk in front of everyone here in the kitchen. Usually whenever she wanted something from me, she asked to see me alone.

I cherished my bond with Bella. Since Chad had been a single dad until meeting Scarlett, the entire family used to spend a lot of time with this little girl.

Selfishly, I missed that. I didn’t get nearly as much one-on-one time with my Bella these days, or with Simone—who reminded me a lot of a young Bella.

Even though they had different mothers, they looked very much alike.

“Are you going to have a girlfriend soon?”

I jerked, taken aback by her question. “I’m sorry?”

“I want to know how many people will be at my Christmas recital.”

I blinked. “That’s three months away.” It was only September.

“ Are you thinking about having a girlfriend?” Isabeau asked. She sounded absolutely floored by the notion.

Celine elbowed her. “Woman, be more subtle.”

“No, I’m not. How are we even having this conversation?” This was such a bizarre day. I focused on my niece. “Bella, I’m coming alone to your recital.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Okay. Thought I’d ask. But isn’t it weird that you don’t have a girlfriend?”

The day had just become stranger. Usually, I shut down all talk regarding relationships. The grandmothers always poked their noses into everyone’s business, and it was best to nip everything in the bud before it got out of hand. But Bella was a child. I felt like I owed her something more.

“There are several ways of doing things,” I said slowly.

“Meaning?” Bella asked, calling me out on my bullshit explanation. “You never see ladies.”

Fuck my life. I was digging my own grave. There was no polite way of explaining to a kid that I was essentially a man-whore.

Isabeau seemed to sense that this wasn’t going anywhere, so she intervened. “Hon, we should get started on the jambalaya. It’s going to take a long time to prepare otherwise.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Bella said distractedly.

I cleared my throat. “I’m going to leave, then.”

“Grandma, why aren’t you making a lilac perfume for Uncle Anthony?” Bella asked conversationally.

Once again, I was stunned. Apparently, so were my grandmothers, because Isabeau threw her head back like she’d been slapped, and Celine was blinking rapidly.

Damn, Bella’s growing up fast.

David and Felix started to laugh.

“You think this is funny?” I asked.

David shrugged. Felix nodded. I had to admit, it was a bit funny.

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Isabeau said. “We can’t give it to your Uncle Anthony, though. But as soon as we meet someone who could be a potential girlfriend for him, we’ll think about it.”

Out of respect for my grandmothers, I didn’t tell them that I thought this was a crock of bullshit. After retiring, the two of them opened a perfume shop on Dumaine—Fragrant Delights. Both of them swore that lilac had erotic properties or whatever.

I vehemently disagreed even though four of my five brothers were now engaged or married. Their respective other halves had gotten a lilac perfume from the grandmothers at some point, which only encouraged Isabeau and Celine .