Everything I've Never Had (6 page)

“You don't need to meet anyone. Chip and I've decided we'd like for you to consider William.”

“What?” I blanch. “William is married, and he's Tripp's brother. Don't you think that's a little strange? Even for us?”

“Not at all. What do you mean ‘even for us’? There's no blood between us. Anyway, we're allowing William to divorce Vanessa since she had an affair and there are no children involved. William is your age, and he's expressed an interest.”

I feel my face wrinkle due to the fact that I am not and have never been attracted to William in the slightest. As a matter of fact, I find him repulsive. “Daddy, I'm not marrying William,” I state.

“Young lady, you'll do what is requested of you. Or have you forgotten your upbringing?” I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. “I would appreciate it very much if you at least considered him. It would be perfect to have an Hebert rearing my grandsons and teaching them how loyalty and honor are valued in this family.”

“I'm an Hebert, Daddy,” I remind him.

He gives a condescending laugh at my little insistence. “A man, Celeste. A man Hebert.”

“Of course, Daddy. Would it be too much to ask for some time to consider this request?”
And to consider a way to get out of this.

He pauses and takes me in for a moment, his gaze searching. “Not at all. It really is a request, Celeste. If you were to meet someone say in the next few weeks and show some interest, we may be able to leave it at that.” He raises his eyebrows at me slightly and reaches for a file on his desk. I’ve been dismissed.

An about-face? My father is offering me an out. This is unheard of. Does he not want the merger either?

I say my goodbyes to my father and his secretary. My legs are trembling as I enter the elevator and make my way across the expansive lobby to enter the parking garage, but otherwise I'm pretty sure I'm covering well.
Almost there, almost there
, I chant as I see my MINI in the midst of all the dark SUVs.

When I get into my car, I take a deep breath, but it doesn't help, I immediately start bawling. If those two Heberts wanted something, nothing would stop them. It was why we had more money than God. It was why I'd married Tripp in the first place. It was how I'd had three boys. One would think that would be uncontrollable, but not so much. It was why I knew I was screwed if I didn't find interest in someone posthaste.

I FIND MYSELF sitting outside of Bonnie's townhome. Having a few hours before I had to pick up the boys from school, I blew off all of my other errands, figuring a new, undesired betrothal was a good reason to hit up my best friend.

Knocking on the door, I'm caught off guard by Garner. “Oh! Hey, Garner! I didn't realize you'd be here. I can come back if I'm interrupting.”

“Nah, Celeste. It's all good, girl. Bonnie's throwing some clothes on. She'll be right down. I was just about to head out.”

Oh, yes. They had rehearsals shortly. “Right. Well, how are things going?”

“Good. We've been learning some new material, gearing up for our big show. It's crazy. We're about to play the House of Blues.”

His enthusiasm is catching. “I'm so excited for y'all. I think this is going to be great for the band. You guys are going to get some offers—I just know it.”

“I hope so. This is all I've ever wanted.” I envy his passion. I smile at him as Bonnie makes her way down to us. She's beaming as well.

“Good afternoon,” I tell her with a raised brow. “How are you?”

“I'm great,” she practically purrs as she places a full-fledged kiss on Garner's lips. He grabs her hips and grinds his into hers, simulating what I'm sure I just missed. Directing my eyes to the ceiling, I start mentally arranging my balcony for tomorrow's photo shoot.

“Hey, Celeste!” Bonnie calls. “I'm walking the drummer out. I'll be right back.”

“OK. Sure thing. Bye, Garner. Good to see you!”

“Yep, you—” he tries to say goodbye as Bonnie playfully bites his neck while directing him to the front door. I chuckle at their fervor for each other. I'm ecstatic to finally see it being reciprocated for Bonnie's sake. Her ex-husband was one cold fish. I make myself comfortable by slipping off my shoes, making myself a glass of iced tea, and curling up on her sofa with my iPhone and my design app.

I hear the door slam, and I lock my phone, placing it on the coffee table. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day, Celeste? What's wrong?”

“It's bad,” I tell her.

“What do those asswads want this time?” I blink real slow and grin.

“How'd you know?”

“There are only two people who can upset you this much.”

“And I thought I was hiding it so well.”

“No way, babe. Spill!”

I recount my conversation with the Fathers Hebert. She seethes and shakes her head almost the whole time. I get more and more animated as I go, talking with my hands, pacing the room. When I stop, she just asks, “What the hell are you gonna do?”

“I don't know. I'm...I'm—”

“Good Lord, Celeste, if there was ever a time to say the fucking
f
word, it's now.”

“I'm fucked.” I say stoically. “I'm so fucked!” I shriek.

“Thank God!”

Chuckling, I ask, “Don't you think it's a little odd to thank God for my saying the
f
word?”

“Nope, not at all. It helps a lot. And you need a lotta help.”

“I know, I know,” I say as I stop to stand in front of her French doors, crossing my arms over my middle.

“Can you just tell them no for once? Put your foot down?”

“Not only will they trample all over my foot. They'll trample all over my whole life. My boys' lives. I've watched them do it, Bon. It's gruesome.”

“Geez. It's like they're some kinda corporate mafi—”

I spin and pin her with a look. “Right, we don't say that word. Sorry,” she mutters petulantly. They are exactly that, which is why we don't say it. Silent tears start to make their way down my cheeks. I didn't want to cry again, but I really was at a loss.

“Oh, baby girl,” she coos. “We'll figure something out. You've got plenty of money, right? You're not dependent on them in that way.”

“The money is the least of my issues, but, yes, I do have plenty of it in my own right.”

“I have the perfect solution. I know who you can marry, and,” she says stretching out the word ‘and,’ “you're in love with him already.”

“Not this again,” I mutter as I rest my head in both my hands.

“I've been watching you two. Y'all have it so bad for each other.”

“OK,” I slap my knees with force, wincing. “This conversation just ceased being helpful. I have a few things to do before going to get the boys, so I'll see you later.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “You're an idiot, ma belle amie.”

“Yes, I know. You know how I know? ‘Cause you've told me about a billion times over the past couple of months,” I state acerbically.

“Oh, oh! So touchy. Me thinks thou protests too much.” She has the audacity to giggle at me.

I quirk my eyebrow at her and look down my nose at her as I calmly state, “Me thinks you forget who I'm related to. It's there under this calm façade. Don't push me,” I warn her.

She throws her hands up in mock protest, “Oh, yes, ma'am. Princess of the maf—” She cuts herself off at my look. “I'm done,” she concedes.

THE BOYS AND I arrive home after guitar lessons, MMA lessons, and French lessons— Archer, Paris, and Finn respectively. I'm utterly spent, but I paste a smile on my face because Adrian is here with pizza and a movie. It's my favorite day of the week. Well, it was until the Disastrous Duo struck.

“Hey, Adrian!” Finn shouts as we clear the door.

“What's up, Adrian,” Archer gives him a chin lift as he makes his way to feed the dogs.

“Hi, Adrian,” Paris mutters before going to check on Skip.

“Finn, he's four feet away, son,” I half-heartedly chastise him, getting exactly why he's so excited—Adrian's just awesome like that.

“Hey, bud,” Adrian returns with a fist bump. “How was school?”

“Sucked,” Finn replies flippantly.

“Really, Finn,” I try. “We've talked about this word. I
loathe
this word.”

“I know, Mom.” He scrambles onto a barstool and slaps himself on both cheeks, resting his head in his palms. “But everybody says it.”

I open my mouth to give him the-everybody-does-it-so-does-that-mean-you-have-to do-it-too speech, but Adrian puts his finger up, motioning for me to let him give it a shot.

“All right, bud.” Adrian leans across the bar on his elbows, and it takes the willpower of a hundred nuns not to check out his nice, tight butt. I'm thoroughly impressed with myself and my ability to resist—for the most part. “So here's how it goes—girls don't like ugly words like that. It makes you look like a jerk when you say those things in front of them. Girls like gentlemen. Do you hear me say those kinda words in front of your mom?”

“No, sir.” Finn snaps to attention.

“That's ‘cause I save 'em all up and let 'em loose when I'm with the guys,” he reasons. I had been grinning ear to ear, but my mouth falls slack upon that piece of handy advice. Adrian turns to me and winks and grins like he's just figured out how to solve world hunger.

My mouth closes and tilts to a half-smile of its own accord. “You were on a roll for a minute there, Adrian.”

He just chuckles and turns back to Finn, “All right, so do we have a deal? Don't talk like that around moms and girls and stuff. Save it for the locker room.”

Finn wrinkles his face up and states seriously, “I don't have a locker room.”

“It's a figure of speech, bud. But you get me, right?”

Finn jumps off his stool, squares off and gives Adrian a salute. “Yes, sir, Adrian, sir!”

Adrian leans in and ruffles his wavy dark brown hair, “At ease, Marine.” My father would die.

“Finn, go wash up, please.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he yells with a sprint to the bathroom.

“Man, that kid has got some energy, huh?”

“Yes, he does.”

His glacial blue eyes meet mine, and I forget what we were talking about when he abruptly changes gears on me. “What's wrong with Paris?”