Chapter Five
I’m not the religious type.
But when the “priest” shows up,
it’s difficult not to confess.
~ Chloé
DINNER SERVICE WENT off without a hitch. So did dessert. There had been a couple of compliments to the chef, no send-backs, and, as far as Chloé was aware, everything out in the main dining room had gone amazing.
It was a pity the same couldn’t be said about back in the kitchens.
Her père had avoided her all through service, only speaking to her when absolutely necessary—and then, only about work. There was no joking, no creating, no joy in this kitchen tonight, and knowing she was the reason for that made her heart ache.
When the final guest left for the evening and they began to close down, the anxiety she’d managed to keep at bay began to creep back in. It was only a matter of time now before she’d have to face the music, and she was starting to think the wait was worse than what the actual conversation would be.
God, could they just get it over with already?
“Chloé?”
She turned to see her dad standing at the stainless-steel doors, a grim look on his face.
“You ready to go?”
“Uh…”
She looked back to her half-finished station, and Kayla—their sous chef—stepped in and said, “I got this.”
“Are you sure?”
Kayla nodded. She was probably thrilled to get her the hell out of there. It wasn’t like the night had been fun for them either.
Chloé glanced back to her dad. “Can you give me five?”
He nodded, the door swished shut, and Chloé hurried to the locker room, where she untied her apron and tossed it in the laundry bin along with her jacket. Once she had washed up, she took a quick look at her phone, and there was a message from Ethan and Zayne.
Ethan
Remember, anything they say tonight is because they care. Try to listen and understand where they’re coming from and maybe you’ll find some common ground.
Zayne
Just try not to set that ground on fire.
Chloé grinned. Their messages were exactly what she needed to see.
She pocketed her phone and felt her nerves subside a little, as a sense of calm determination filled her. She’d never been the kind of person to back down from something she wanted. Her fathers had always taught her that she should fight for it, and this would be no different.
She wanted a relationship with Ethan and Zayne. She wanted a chance to see where it would go, and she wasn’t going to back down just because her fathers were unhappy. She just needed to talk to them, to explain where her head was. Then they’d come around, she knew it.
Chloé grabbed her purse and headed for the doors. When she stepped out into the hall, she ran into her père , who caught her by the arms.
“ Désolée .”
“Maybe slow down next time when coming out of the kitchens, d'accord ?”
As he continued past her toward Dad’s office, Chloé blew out a breath and followed. It was clear she had some work to do there, but that was what tonight was for, to talk things out. She just hoped they were willing to listen.
When they reached the office, her dad made himself busy by buttoning his peacoat, then the three of them headed outside to the car.
The awkward silence between them was weird.
It was something she’d never really experienced before, and she knew she had no one to blame but herself.
So unless she wanted to start tonight’s conversation right here and now, she’d best just keep her mouth shut and wait for them to initiate the interrogation.
She stared out the window, reading each street sign they passed, counting down the minutes until they pulled into their drive and her père cut the engine.
Chloé’s stomach dropped.
She shut her eyes and took in a deep breath.
When she heard the front doors of the vehicle open, she wished she could turn back time to the day she’d locked herself in the car with her papa’s keys—she’d been five.
But there was no time machine. She wasn’t some precocious child.
There were no grinning faces peering through the window telling her to “unlock the door now, angel,” as her papa worked on it from the outside.
Nope, there was none of that.
There was just a dark driveway and silence as her fathers disappeared inside and left her to follow.
You can do this. Just go in, talk it out, and stay calm. Then it’ll be done. Over with.
She headed inside and up the stairs, and had barely made it two steps across the hardwood when she heard, “In the living room now , young lady.”
Chloé’s heart thumped at the sound of her papa’s voice, and if she thought she’d been nervous before, this was a whole other level.
She slowly made her way into the living room to see her père standing over by the window, her dad seated at one end of a love seat with his feet tucked up under him, and finally her papa in his club chair.
All of them wearing different variations of a frown.
“Hi.” Chloé placed her handbag on the accent chair closest to her and wondered if she should sit. But the more she thought about it, the more she figured it’d be easier to make a run for it if she was already on her feet.
“Hi?” Her papa tapped his fingers on the wooden arm of his chair. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”
“Um—”
“ Um won’t be acceptable tonight, Chloé. So you better choose your words wisely.”
God , she hadn’t been lying when she told Ethan her papa was scary. She could feel the sweat popping out on her forehead, and he’d barely spoken more than a handful of words to her.
“Of course. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—”
“Damn right you will.” Papa’s voice rumbled around the room like thunder as he slowly got to his feet. “What in the world has gotten into you? Lying to us, sneaking around? I thought we raised you better than that.”
“You did.” She nodded and stepped forward. “And I shouldn’t have done what I did, but—”
Chloé bit off her words, remembering what her papa always said about the word but : In an apology, it negates everything that came before it. It is merely an excuse to justify your actions.
“I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
“Which is what, exactly? The list is so long, I feel we need to clarify. That you were out on a date with two men? That those men are at least ten years older than you? That you lied to us for the last however many weeks whenever we asked where you were going?” Papa looked over to her père and dad. “Did I miss anything in there?”
“ Non .”
“No, that about covers it.”
He gave a clipped nod and turned his attention back to her. “Well? We’re waiting. And so help me God, Chloé, if you lie to me again, you will not like the consequences.”
She was in so much damn trouble. The “priest” was in full force now. As she stood there frozen, she finally understood where he got the name from, because in that moment, she was ready to tell him everything. If only she could remember how to speak.
“Why don’t you start with something simple? What are the names of these”—he paused, and Chloé saw his jaw twitch—“ two men you’ve been seeing?”
Okay, that one seemed easy enough—after all, they already knew Ethan’s. But somehow, she didn’t think they were going to be all that thrilled when they found out Zayne’s full name.
So maybe she’d just leave the last part out for now.
“Ethan and Zayne.”
“Their full names, Chloé.”
Ooorrr maybe not.
“Ethan Holt and”—she worried her lower lip for a second—“Zayne Copeland.”
“Zayne Copeland ?” Dad’s eyes widened as his feet slid out from under him to hit the floor. “As in Senator Copeland’s…”
“Son.”
“Jesus Christ.” Her papa sounded murderous. “You really have lost your mind.”
“No, I haven’t. I promise.”
“And that’s supposed to mean what to me? A promise is built on trust, Chloé, and you have broken that.”
She sucked in a breath as shame flooded in. She knew how important trust was to her papa, and to hear that she had broken that cut deeper than anything else he could’ve said.
“How long?” Papa’s voice was so soft that she almost missed the question, and when she didn’t immediately answer, he doubled down. “How long has this been going on?”
Chloé twisted her hands together. “About a month.”
“A month ?” Dad walked over to stand by Papa. “When have you had the time? You’ve been helping Shayla at her—”
His words cut off as Chloé lowered her eyes, and her papa answered for her.
“You haven’t been helping Shayla. Have you?”
When she shook her head, her père cursed over by the window. “ Mon Dieu . Why? Why would you do this?”
“I don’t know,” she blurted out, looking over at him. “I just, I didn’t think you’d approve, and—”
“You were spot-on.” Her papa fumed. “There is no way we would’ve okayed this. Forget the lying or the fact that you’ve now dragged your cousin into this little web of deceit. There is no way we would’ve been okay with two older men dating you.”
“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you, ” she shouted.
“Watch yourself, young lady.”
Chloé bit down into her lip and shook her head. “I know what I did was wrong—”
“ Wrong ? That word doesn’t even begin to cover what this is.”
“But I knew if you found out that you’d…flip out.”
Papa stared her down, his eyes narrowing. “So you thought lying was the better option?”
When she said nothing, he let out a frustrated breath and turned away from her.
“We’ve always been honest with each other, Chloé—when did that stop?”
She wasn’t sure. In her excitement at meeting Ethan and Zayne, she’d somehow allowed herself to forget how open she usually was with her fathers, and she was truly regretting that now.
She could feel her papa’s disappointment rolling off him in waves, and as she stared at his back, her vision began to blur from the tears swimming in her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was so soft that she wasn’t even sure he would hear her. But when he turned to face her, she continued on. “I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have snuck around behind your backs. It was wrong, and I really am sorry.”
Her père shook his head. "Et c'est censé tout régler?”