Page 14

Story: The Match

“I love you two,” I assured them, “but I want to do my own thing. Besides, Dad is doing great in the company without me.”

Dad was looking at the table, both arms on the armrests of the chair. “All my life I worked hard, Grace. I didn’t mind. I liked it. I liked honoring my forefathers and knowing that I’m keeping their legacy safe. But right now, there’s no one left to take over that legacy. Except you.”

Oh, and cue the guilt trip again.My childhood had been full of this kind of pressure and the expectation that the three of us would continue the family tradition of working at Deveraux Industries. It focused on clothing manufacturing, which I’d enjoyed, but that had been a different part of my life.

“Have you heard from Kyle and Beau?” I asked them.

“No,” Dad said sternly. “And I hope I never do again. The mess they made nearly sank the company and tarnished the family. I can’t believe they’d dare play with the family name like that. Five generations of Deverauxes built this company from the ground up, and they almost destroyed it with their antics.”

“Are you in contact with them?” Mom asked me.

“No. I haven’t spoken to them in more than a year.” Not that we were close before. Ever since I got married, things between us had drifted apart even more. If that hadn’t happened, maybe I would’ve been aware of what they were up to. But both my brothers had been very dismissive of me, even when we’d worked together. When I told them I was leaving, they’d made it clear that there was no place for me if I ever decided to come back.

Dad sighed, reaching for a scone. “It’s a good thing Xander LeBlanc exposed them when he did. I should thank him next time I see him.”

I wasn’t feeling very pro-LeBlanc right now. “You’d thank him for meddling in something that wasn’t his business?” I couldn’t help but ask, thinking about Zachary.

“He stopped your brothers from embarrassing us even further, and that’s good enough in my books.”

“I don’t know where I went wrong with those two,” Mom said quietly. “I keep thinking and thinking and—”

“Mom, don’t be hard on yourself. You’re both excellent parents.” I picked up my napkin and wiped at the corner of my mouth. “Listen, I need to go back to the city. I promised my friend we’d go out for drinks in the Quarter.”

“Good for you,” Mom said. “I’ve been worried about you lately, always cooped up at work.”

“Well, the weekend is for relaxing.” I was only half lying. I’d work a bit in the morning.

I kissed both my parents, smiling as I headed to the kitchen before leaving. “Hey, Theresa. I wanted to say bye. See you again next week?”

She turned to me, looking me up and down. “Grace, are you sure you don’t want me to pack some of that gumbo?”

“It’s not necessary, but thanks.”

“Hm,” she said.

Theresa looked the same as she had my entire childhood, with her curly blond hair pulled into a ponytail and a robust physique. I had many fond memories of her combing my hair and giving me advice on boys when I was a teenager. Mostly how to stay away from them.

“You know, I can make your favorites if you stop by the house more often,” she called out, referring to my parents’ residence in the Garden District. She was perpetually upset that I wasn’teating enough. Truth be told, these days, I did often forget to eat. I’d lost a few pounds without even meaning to, but I planned to put them back on tonight with some alcohol and a sweet treat or two.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, sending her an air kiss as I left.

I drove straight to the French Quarter, wondering how life could change so drastically in such a short time. A little over a year ago, I was unhappily married, hoping for a positive pregnancy test. In retrospect, I was glad it never happened. Divorcing Roger would’ve been far more difficult if we had a child together.

I hadn’t been in the Quarter for a while, and I was already looking forward to it. Technically, I was way too early—I was meeting my friend Lais at eight o’clock, and it was barely five—but that was quite all right. I wanted to roam the streets a bit, maybe head into a shop or two. Being born and bred in New Orleans, I knew almost every shop, of course, but occasionally something new popped up.

I parked at the edge of the Quarter, near the river, because I wanted to take a walk along the water. Itcouldend at Café Du Monde. I hadn’t been there in eons. I walked at a quick pace, looking over my shoulder every time I heard a bicycle coming along. I was wearing my high heels again, as well as a dress. Mom appreciated when I looked nice visiting them, and I liked to make her happy.

The bells of the St. Louis Cathedral rang in the distance. As I passed Jackson Square, I instinctively looked that way. There were droves of tourists around the church. I’d just decided it would be easier to go left and not go to Café Du Monde and deal with the foot traffic when a familiar figure caught my attention.

Zachary LeBlanc was talking on the phone at the edge of the river, feet wide apart in a macho stance. He was laughing.He looked so different from the previous times I’d seen him. If possible, he was even more handsome.

Oh, stop it, Grace. There are plenty of handsome men in this city. Why do you have to keep ogling him?

Well, because he kept popping up in my life and making it more difficult. But that was neither here nor there. I wasn’t going to let the sight of him ruin my evening. I was going to have fun.

And yet, instead of turning left as I’d planned, I headed straight to Zachary. Last time, I’d been blindsided by him and caught off guard. Now, I could finally be the one surprising him and also give him a piece of my mind.

I stopped directly in front of him. He noticed me right away and said, “I’ll call you back, Bella, okay? Yeah, I promise.” He lowered his phone and turned around. “Hello to you too.”