23. Lavender Lemonade #2
“But you do belong here. You’re married to a duke.”
“Yet another fact that still feels make-believe.” She chuckled. “The thing is, Xavi feels the same, and he found out he was a legitimate heir years ago. Sometimes I know he wants to ignore it all, but he can’t. We have to find our way through things, you know? We can’t run away from them.”
We started walking around the lake, which I discovered was called The Serpentine for its curving, snake-like shape.
“And Sofia? How’s she handling the transition to merry old England?”
“Better than I expected, honestly. She loves her new school.” Frankie’s expression grew more serious.
“She’s made friends quickly, which was my biggest worry.
And she seems to have a built-in bullshit meter.
None of the kids whose parents are trying to get close to Xavier because of his title seem to be on her radar. ”
“And the adjustment to having a little sister?”
“She adores Luce. The first time Lucy smiled at her after the heart surgery, Sofia burst into tears and told me it was the best thing that had ever happened to her.”
Lucy had been born with a heart defect that had required surgery when she was just two months old.
It had been successful, but the early weeks had been touch and go.
I’d taken the train from Paris to help that weekend and stay with Sofia, but it hadn’t been easy for any of us.
Them, because they had a sick newborn, of course.
Me, because I went from an existence between my apartment and the culinary school to taking care of a four-year-old and escorting her around a strange city.
We made it as far as this park and a grocery store. Thankfully, that was about all Sofia was willing to do under the circumstances.
“I still can’t believe you had to go through that with a newborn,” I said.
“The worst eight hours of my life. Xavi held it together for all of us.” Frankie’s voice softened. “He stayed at the hospital for three days, sleeping in a chair beside Lucy’s crib, and then he’d go home to Sofia so I could be with Luce during the day.”
We spotted a cart selling drinks near the Diana Memorial. The vendor, a cheerful woman with paint-stained fingers who looked like she might be an artist between customers, recommended the lavender lemonades for the early September heat.
“Don’t you…don’t you ever worry?” I asked as we found a bench overlooking the water, where swans glided past with a regal indifference that seemed uniquely British. “That it will go back to the way it was between you and Xavier?”
“You mean like him being unaware his daughter and I were living on Matthew’s stairwell for almost four years? No, can’t say that I do.”
“I don’t mean like that. I mean…well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you and Xavier seem like such opposites.”
Frankie laughed, a quick shout. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“So you don’t think it’s an issue?”
“It’s an issue. It’s also kind of fun. We complement each other, challenge each other, and bring balance to each other’s lives.
I’m not saying it’s easy, but no, I don’t worry it’s going to become our demise.
” She chuckled. “I thought he was an arrogant ass when he first came back around. Cold, controlling, completely wrong for me and Sofia.”
“But now?” Obviously, I didn’t know him like she did, but I’d never gotten a different version of Xavier Parker.
“Now I know he’s an arrogant ass who loves us desperately.
” Her smile was private, clearly thinking of things that were not appropriate for me to hear.
“Xavi shows love through actions, not words. It took me a while to understand that. Like, when he brought Joni to Paris last spring to see you. Did he even ask any questions about that?”
“No, they just appeared one day. Joni was a wreck.”
I thought about Xavier, who, at a moment’s notice, had flown Joni from New York to my Paris apartment when she was falling apart over Nathan.
He’d been brusque but kind to both of us.
We’d even bonded over the knife techniques I was learning at the time, and when I graduated last month, he sent me my gyuto.
“Or when he puts Sofia’s needs before his own comfort.
When he gets up for night feedings without being asked.
These are the ways he says ‘I love you.’ As a single mom, I learned quick that actions are more trustworthy than words anyway.
I know without a doubt that my husband would do anything for his family. For me.”
My mind ventured to the Lyons brothers. I thought about the sweet things Daniel had said when he first saw me. The compliments, the words laced with intentions. Followed by drunken kisses, missed calls, and fewer and fewer attempts to connect.
And then, there was Lucas, who, in his own quiet way, turned out to be just as complimentary. But he also did things like guide me through a new park just to put me at ease or reserve a whole ryokan an hour out of his way just so I would be in a less overwhelming place to explore.
His touch, too, was thoughtful. He guarded my body, my innocence. My pleasure was his own.
Then I thought about the way he ran out of our shared room like a scared rabbit.
I scowled. That wasn’t thoughtful at all.
That just hurt.
“What happens if you lose it?” I asked. “What happens if this whole beautiful life comes crashing down? I don’t mean to be a downer, but?—”
“But it’s possible,” Frankie conceded. “Our family has been through too much not to be exquisitely aware of that potential.”
I nodded. At least she understood what I was trying to say.
“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. But, Marie, I’ve thought about some version of that every day since I had Sofia.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You don’t become a parent without those kinds of worries, babe.”
“Yeah, but?—”
“Honestly, Marie, even if the worst happens, God forbid, and I lose Xavier or the girls somehow like Lea did with Mike…”
She drifted off, and I knew what she was thinking. What we both were thinking about our oldest sister and the shadow of herself she’d become since losing her other half.
“I still think it would all be worth it,” Frankie finished softly.
“And I think one day Lea will too, if she doesn’t already.
And maybe you as well, if you ever let someone in.
Speaking of which…” She turned on the bench and gave me a knowing look.
“Who the heck is Lucas, and why did he run out on my sister this morning? Do I need to send my husband to kick someone’s ass?
And I thought you were hot for your boss? ”
I sighed, suddenly hating that I came from a family that loved to gossip. Thanks to Joni, all my siblings knew about my crush on Daniel Lyons.
“Lucas is my boss,” I grumbled.
“I thought his name was Daniel.”
“Lucas is his older brother. They’re…” I shook my head. “Lucas is sort of the head of the whole family. They’re all my bosses, but Lucas…Lucas is the boss of them too. And I’m here as his private chef.”
It sounded so simple when explained in that way.
“It’s complicated,” I finished.
“Most interesting things are. Tell me.”
As we walked through the park, past the Peter Pan statue and toward the Italian Gardens with their ornate fountains and formal flower beds, I told her about the party at Prideview, about Daniel’s invitation, our dance, and the odd “date” we’d shared in the boathouse
“Honestly? If that had been my first kiss, I think I would have cried,” Frankie said..
I shared about Lucas interrupting and whisking me away on this month-long business trip that had turned into something substantially more.
I recounted the growing attraction I felt for a man I’d barely noticed before Paris, about the conversations in S?o Paulo, the connections in Japan, and being forced to share a bed together on our first night in London.
And finally, my cheeks burning with embarrassment, I told her about this morning. How I’d woken up in Lucas’s arms, all but begged him to touch me, then about how we’d both lost control, I fled to the shower, and he disappeared.
Frankie listened without judgment, occasionally asking clarifying questions but mostly just letting me talk. She wasn’t officially aware, like Joni was, that I was still a virgin, but I was guessing on some level, she knew, as sisters usually did.
When I finished, we had made it all the way around the path and back to the other side of the lake. There, we found another bench where we could watch tourists take pictures and enjoy the last of the afternoon sun.
“What do you know about Daniel’s drinking?” she asked.
The question caught me off guard. “I tell you that whole story, and that’s what you want to come back to?”
“You have three questions to answer here, Marie. One, do you want to get involved with either of your bosses at all? Sounds like you have already crossed that bridge with both of them, so we’ll say yes.
Two, how do they feel about you? And three, knowing that, which one do you want, if any?
Because it sounds like you might have your choice.
” She drummed her fingers on her knee. “Let’s start with the one you’ve been imagining at the end of an altar since you were fifteen.
In every story you just told me about him, it sounds like he was drinking.
A lot. Meanwhile, you’ve been afraid to have more than a sip of communion wine your whole life until he sees you at a party and pours champagne down your throat.
Have you had any genuine conversations with him sober? ”
I thought about the times I’d talked to Daniel since returning to New York, and since leaving again on this trip with Lucas.
Frankie was right. Even on the plane from Paris, he’d consumed a consistent stream of cocktails.
Daniel was the life of the party, but that life was accompanied by a slight slur, background noise of bars, a redness in his cheeks that wasn’t from high-energy activities.
I’d written it off as social drinking, but maybe that was because I didn’t really understand what that meant in the first place. Or maybe I just didn’t want to see the fact that Daniel Lyons had a problem.
Which meant I didn’t really know who he was. And I didn’t really know what he felt about me. Or if he felt anything at all.
“And Lucas?” Frankie asked. “Does he drink?”
“He—well, he does, but not often. And I actually haven’t seen him have anything to drink since we’ve been on this trip.” I frowned. “He knows about Mami and Dad. Do you think that has anything to do with it?”
“I don’t know him. But if he stopped for you without you even asking, that sounds pretty thoughtful to me, like the rest of it. What else is he like?”
I had to think about it. “He’s intense. Controlled.
But then there are moments when he lets go, and it’s like someone opened the door to a dark room and let the sunshine in.
Sometimes I feel like he wants to show me everything about himself, and other times, he keeps me at arm’s length.
I think he does that with everyone. I don’t think he’s often allowed to do what he wants because he has to do so much for everyone else. ”
“Sounds like Mattie. Lea, too. Typical oldest child, taking care of everyone else’s needs before their own. Both of them think that showing vulnerability is tantamount to failure. Xavi gets like that too.”
“How do you get past it?”
“Time. Patience. And refusing to let him treat me like another problem to solve.” Frankie’s smile was wry.
“Plus, we had a lot of very direct conversations about what we actually wanted from each other and from life. I’m not great at saying what I want either, so it’s something we have both had to work on.
” She looked at me knowingly. “It’s the hardest part of growing up in such a big family.
Too easy to be overshadowed. You have to reteach yourself to know what you want in the first place.
And then you have to learn to say it out loud instead of waiting for someone to ask. ”
But he does ask , I wanted to say, though Frankie was already checking her watch. He asks me all the time.
“We need to get back. Xavi will be home soon, and we usually have an early dinner with the girls.”
We began the walk back to Mayfair as the sun was starting to slip past the trees, casting long shadows through the park. The lavender lemonade had left a pleasant floral taste on my tongue, and the conversation with Frankie, while not particularly clarifying, had calmed some of my initial panic.
She was right about one thing: I needed to be clearer about the things I wanted, both with myself and anyone else.
I didn’t know yet what to say about Lucas or Daniel, but I knew one thing for sure: I needed to keep reconnecting with my family and keep those roots with them solid, if on my own terms. There was wisdom here, if I were willing to learn from it.
“You know, you could just stay here,” Frankie said as we turned onto her street, past boutiques with single items displayed in their windows like art pieces. “Instead of going back to that hotel or wherever else they find for you. You don’t have to stay with him to do your job.”
“Funny. Last night, I was going to ask if we could both stay here and let his team go to Parker House.”
Frankie snorted. “You know, if you hadn’t shown up at my doorstep crying, I would have said yes. But now, I think Xavi and I both would just say ‘fuck that guy.’”
I had to chuckle. You could take the duchess out of the Bronx, but you couldn’t take the Bronx out of the duchess.
The suggestion to stay was tempting. The thought of facing Lucas made my stomach churn. Even more when a glance at my phone revealed several missed calls—two from Robbie, the rest from Lucas himself.
“I should probably get back. I have the evening off, but Lucas is probably wondering where I went.”
“So call him. Tell him you’re staying with family tonight and you’ll meet him wherever he ends up in the morning.”
I was already typing out a message. “Yeah, I could use a little more space.”
But as we approached Frankie’s building, and I saw the familiar looming figure, my newfound peace evaporated.
Lucas stood outside the entrance, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his expression unreadable as he watched us approach.
He had changed from his more casual travel wear into one of his impeccably fitted black suits with a crooked open collar, like the tie had been yanked off in haste on his way here.
Even in this neighborhood of wealth and privilege, he stood out.
La crème de la crème , as we would call it among chefs.
“Or,” Frankie said, following my gaze. “You can just tell him yourself.”