2. Pâte Brisée #2
Carlos, the Lyonses’ groundskeeper, made morning and evening runs to the New Rochelle train station for staff members who didn’t live on site.
For years, I’d taken the New Haven line from Fordham every afternoon after my classes were finished, then every morning and evening for another six years after I finished high school.
I’d passed these houses too many times to count.
Knew every one of the mansions by heart. Every number, every rose bush.
“That way.” I pointed to the left when the street forked onto the peninsula.
Bogdan grunted, which was the most conversation he’d offer the whole drive, then pulled up to the gate, where I rolled down the window.
Frank, the kindly gatehouse guard, brightened when he spotted me. “Hey, look who it is! Welcome back, Marie!”
I smiled and waved as we drove on.
What did it say that a security guard, with whom I’d barely spoken, remembered my name in a blink, but Daniel hadn’t after nine hours?
Nothing , I told myself. It just means you’ve changed.
It means he wasn’t interested before.
And now he is.
Fear bubbled in my chest. New Marie was doing all right, but the past was waving at me as the gates opened and we drove onto Prideview Park.
The estate was aptly named. The Lyons family owned several acres in an area where even the richest families had one at most. Their land took up the far end of the peninsula that jutted out onto the Long Island Sound.
On lunch breaks during the summer, one of my favorite things to do was watch the sailing classes that passed in front of the house, the cadre of tiny white books flying across the water in a delicate, laughing flock.
Bogdan steered the van through the orchard where I’d spent hours picking fruit for Daniel’s family and the rest of the staff. The arborist had given me my own clippers for my eighteenth birthday.
We passed another staff house where the groundkeepers lived, then the tennis courts, the pool, and the two guest cottages that had hosted multiple royals.
Finally, the minivan rounded the circular driveway in front of the Tudor-style mansion built sometime in the early twenties, when the family had originally commissioned a country escape from their Gilded Age home in the city.
For almost a hundred and fifty years, the Lyonses had been one of New York’s wealthiest denizens—and had become wealthier still under the guidance of Lucas, the elder son.
Everything here had history. Everything here was old.
I didn’t want to be Old Marie anymore. But what if this world didn’t give me a choice?
Bogdan parked near the service entrance and unloaded my bags, and as I stepped outside, my ears were filled with the familiar sounds of Prideview.
Wind whistled off the water and through ancient maples loaded with bright green foliage.
Staff puttered, mowed, and chatted around the grounds.
Sparrows and chickadees gossiped in the branches, all of them singing the same song:
Fraud, fraud, fraud .
I thanked Bogdan, and he left. I’d have to track down someone to help me take my bags up to my room. Mrs. Lyons wouldn’t appreciate them sitting in front of her house like lawn ornaments.
As if on cue, one of the ten garage doors opened, and the birds quieted as the Rolls roared to life. The front door of the house opened and slammed shut. Footsteps echoed down the brick drive, and Daniel jogged toward the car, right behind a familiar shadow: his older brother.
My stomach dropped.
Maybe I’d be lucky. Maybe all the Lyonses were as unaware as Daniel. Maybe my makeover really was that good.
I turned, and the steely gray-blue gaze of Lucas Lyons collided with mine as he stopped short with a kick of gravel.
At a glance, it was obvious they were brothers. Both men were tall, with the same broad shoulders, same long legs, same knife-straight noses, full mouths, and chiseled jaws.
That, however, was where the similarities ended.
Daniel was like a Ralph Lauren ad, tanned Americana clad in starched white shirts, designer jeans, and sneakers.
Lucas was Hugo Boss in tailored suits, ties, and brogues.
Daniel’s blue eyes looked like a bluebird day while Lucas’s were the pending storm on the horizon.
A storm about to hit me.
“What the hell?” Daniel exclaimed as he slammed into his brother’s back.
“Daniel, Christ .” Lucas shook him off like a clingy raincoat, forcing Daniel back with a frown.
“Well, it’s not my fault you forgot how to walk correctly— oh! Gorgeous, holy shit! What are you doing here?”
Daniel’s joy would have been contagious were it not for Lucas looking at him like he’d lost his mind. I glanced between the brothers, my ugly suitcases, and the family driver, Lawrence.
Lawrence broke into a grin and strode forward to wrap me in a tight hug. “Hi, kiddo! Welcome back!”
“Kiddo?” Daniel smirked after Lawrence got into the front seat of the Rolls, ready to drive the brothers to wherever they were going. “Kay, now I’m really embarrassed that even my driver remembers you better than I do. Did you stop by to give me your number after all?”
“Christ, Daniel,” Lucas muttered again as he rubbed his forehead. Once his eyes met mine, it was like the past year hadn’t happened. “Hello, Marie.”
I couldn’t look away. I had a feeling no one could have. That was probably what made Lucas Lyons so formidable in and out of the boardroom.
I swallowed. “Um, hello, Mr. Lyons.”
“ You know her?” Daniel’s glance bounced between us like a Ping-Pong ball.
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Of course, I know her. We all know her.” He turned back to me. “You had a nice time in Paris?”
I nodded more than was necessary, feeling like a bobble-headed version of myself. Why was my voice deserting me now? “I—did—yes. Thank you.”
“Was the apartment all right? The agent said St. Germain would be close to the school and in a safe neighborhood with a good market, but that it may be a little small because of its proximity to the center of the city.”
I sucked in a breath. “It was perfect. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Thank you?” I heard Daniel ask as I edged away. “Thank you for what? Why do you know where she lived in Paris?”
“I should go check in with Ondine,” I mumbled as I started toward the staff entrance.
“ Christ , Daniel.” Lucas’s exhaustion with his brother hadn’t changed in the year I’d been gone either.
“What did I do now?”
I just kept walking. Maybe my new haircut could handle grumpy stares from strangers, but not this kind of awkwardness. s
“I’ll have Henry take your bags to your rooms, Marie,” Lucas called after me.
“Thank you.” I flapped my hand in response and continued toward the back of the house, where I’d find Ondine and figure out where exactly my rooms were going to be, or if they would also be the same as before.
“Her rooms?” Daniel asked as I turned around one of the massive rhododendrons currently being clipped by Kevin, one of the assistant gardeners.
“Welcome back, Marie,” he called as I passed.
“Yep, yep, glad to be here!” I just wanted to be out of earshot.
“Marie?” My name continued to echo out of Daniel’s mouth. “Who the hell is Marie ?”
I didn’t hear Lucas’s response as I practically sprinted away. But Daniel’s last words, full of shock and something that sounded like disgust, were a siren, sounding the alarm all the way to the water.
“She’s the cook ?!”