Secret Shared: A S.E.C.R.E.T. Novel (30 page)

Mortification set in, starting at my feet and inching up my body. I hadn’t lied to him. I had only shaded away parts of the truth that weren’t his to know, or that were beyond my ability to explain to him. In that moment I made a decision. If Will couldn’t accept the whole of S.E.C.R.E.T., what it did for me, how it brought me back to me, then it was better I know that now. I opened and closed my fists, pulling in the courage to tell the truth. I grabbed his hand and looked into his dark blue eyes, now churning with bewilderment.

“Will you promise to listen?”

“All ears, baby. I’m all ears.”

“Well … I have told you the truth. S.E.C.R.E.T.
is
a group that helps women. That part is true. But it helps them … sexually … by granting them a series of sexual fantasies, the kind that help them develop things like
courage and trust and … confidence. Things I always lacked,” I said. His face remained still, but I could tell his brain couldn’t process the information fast enough.

“Throughout the year, I experienced several … scenarios. I felt terrified, I felt overjoyed. I was lost and I was found. And by the end of it, I was a different person, but the same too, just stronger, more myself. Even
you
said last year when we first slept together that I seemed different, yet very much the same. That was it exactly. That’s what S.E.C.R.E.T. gave me.”

I paused, waiting for him to chime in, waiting for him to say something, anything, but his face remained as implacable as an Easter Island statue.

“So after my fantasies, I was offered an opportunity to stay in the group and help other women, or I was free to leave if I wanted to pursue something else, something real. After I was with you, I chose to leave S.E.C.R.E.T. Until I found out about the baby and you returning to Tracina. I was bereft. Belonging to S.E.C.R.E.T. offered me solace, distraction, a sense of purpose. Then when the truth came out about the baby’s father, I decided it was time to leave S.E.C.R.E.T. Because I could finally be with you.”

I hoped my words would fill him with some measure of understanding, but they seemed to have taken the light right out of his eyes.

“So …” he said, blinking hard. “Let me get this straight. You joined a secret sex group. You had sex fantasies with … how many men last year?”

I took a deep breath. “Nine. Including you.”

“Including me. And how many
this
year? Do you, like, try to double that number? Is that how it works?”

“No, there’s so much more to it than that. It’s not about numbers. You’re making it sound—”

“How many men? Do you get a little charm for each guy? Is that how it works?
Collect all ten
?”

I slid my bracelet, my beautiful bracelet, behind my back, catching it on my black satin dress, which minutes ago had felt so sexy against my skin and now felt skimpy, wanton. I heard a voice down the hall, one tinged with kindness.

“Are you okay, Cassie?”

At the end of the dim hall, I made out Jesse’s silhouette. He stepped closer to us and into the light.

“Oh hey!” said Will. “It’s coffee guy with the excellent left hook! Which one was he, Cassie? Was he from this year’s roster or was he last year’s model? Did you two swing from chandeliers? Something tells me no. Ropes and chains, I bet.”

“Will,
stop
it.”

“Or maybe you’re into having him spank you.”

“Will!”

“Hey, listen, man,” Jesse said, his hands raised in surrender. “I didn’t mean to interrupt a personal discussion. I’m just a friend coming to see if she’s all right.”

“I bet you did. Cassie, you interested in going home with your fantasy friend here, or plain old me?” His voice cracked. “A guy who never fucking knows when he’s being played for a complete chump.”

He gave his head a vigorous shake and shoved his hair back in the way he does when words need his hands’ help to come out.

“Will, I’m sorry you heard about it like this. And I know this is a lot to process, but here’s the truth that matters most: I love you. And I’m sorry I never told you everything before, but I was worried you’d react like this,” I said, realizing I was probably hurting Jesse in the process of trying to comfort Will.

“Know what? Before I say something I regret or that I don’t mean, I’m out of here. Because this …
this
is all a bit too
freaky-deaky
for me. I’m just a regular guy, who likes sex with regular women, nothing too weird or out there. No big group thing. Sorry to disappoint, Cassie, but it’s probably best I tell you now that I’d bore the shit out of you. So I’d prefer it if we keep things strictly professional between us from now on, okay? That way what you do after hours is your own fucking business. Because me? I have had
enough
bedroom drama to last me a fucking lifetime. So, enjoy yourselves. Enjoy each other, for all I care.”

“Will!” I yelled as he walked away, Jesse gently holding me back from chasing him.

“It might not be the best time to reason with him, Cassie. Might wanna let him sleep on this.”

I flung my back against the wall, unable to look Jesse in the eye.

“He’ll see it differently after a few days, Cassie. Just give him a bit of time,” he said.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked.

“The event was last-minute. Matilda needed a caterer.”

“I didn’t mean … of course you’re here. Thank
God
you were here. Way to give it to Pierre,” I said. Then it came, a cascade of tears. “I’m so sorry, Jesse. I am so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey. You don’t need to say sorry to me, Cass. You’ve never lied to me,” he said, pulling me in for a tight embrace while I briefly, quietly, cried into the front of his chef whites.

After I stopped shuddering, he handed me a cloth napkin that was dangling from his pocket.

“Here. Let’s get you the fuck out of here.”

And that’s what he did. He carefully walked me through the main hall; the party was loud, in full effect. It was as though no lives had been ruined, no love lost, no secrets revealed. Matilda was in conversation with a journalist, her eyes locking on me as I passed. She reached out a hand, excused herself and came to me.

“Cassie,” she said, gently tugging me by the forearm to speak directly into my ear. “It will be okay. I promise you.”

“No, it won’t, Matilda. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said, my tone flat, my expression deadened.

She looked from me to Jesse. “Take good care of her.”

He nodded, his hand at my back, my own arms wrapped around my body like I was one big wound. Jesse held the door open for me and we were both hit with the first fall chill of the year. Silently, we walked down Royal to Saint Louis, where his truck was parked halfway up the block.
My body, drained of all emotion, felt like flesh pressed against bone beneath a dress I couldn’t wait to rip off and burn.
Will knew my secret and he didn’t want me anymore.
I could hardly take the new job at the new restaurant named after me. How would we cope, him knowing what he knew, me feeling how I felt?

Jesse and I didn’t say a word to each other as he drove the narrow streets of the French Quarter, drunk tourists tumbling in front of our slow-moving truck. We crossed Esplanade and Elysian Fields, and pulled up next to the Spinster Hotel on the corner of Mandeville and Chartres, where the Delmonte sisters were still up, no doubt, watching and waiting for me to come home. Would they notice that the man dropping me off was different from the one with whom I had left? And indeed, what did this say about me? It said nothing, I decided. It said that I had accepted help when I needed it the most, and in doing so changed my life. I forged real bonds, including with men, and definitely with the one sitting next to me now, looking at me with soft eyes.

“Here you are. Want me to come up? Make you a cup of tea? Tuck you in? I promise that’s all I’ll do. I know where your head’s at.”

I wanted to say,
Yeah, it’s where my heart is, with a very hurt man who left me feeling broken and dirty.
A man I loved who I thought loved me, unconditionally. But I was wrong. Of course there were conditions. There are always conditions when it comes to men and women and love and sex. But if for Will
to love me like he once did, I’d have to be like the old me, then Will could keep his love. I would never again go back to being that tiny, chaste, timid woman. Never.

I looked at Jesse’s face, his eyes mellow in the dark of the truck’s cab.

“Well? What say you, Miss Robichaud?”

That’s when I felt it; it started behind my belly button and worked its way up, settling around my heart:
defiance
. The necessary kind, the kind that pushed back on whatever judgment I’d seen in Will’s eyes, a look that had made me feel undesirable, unworthy of love. That wasn’t coming from him; that feeling was in me already, and it was time, time to let all of that go:
No more judgment, no more limits and no more shame, Cassie
. Starting now.

I turned to Jesse. I turned to face the man who knew my darkest parts, my fears and desires, and wasn’t turning away.

“Actually, I would like it if you came up, Jesse. I’ve had a hell of a night … and I think I could really use a friend tonight.”

He wet his thumb with his tongue and rubbed stray mascara off my cheek.

“Then use me, darlin’,” he said. “Use me.”

I have several “Committees” to thank, both personal and professional, who’ve help carry my S.E.C.R.E.T.: Susan Gabriele, Lisa LaBorde, Jenn Goodwin, Sarah Durning, Debra Thier, Charlene Donovan, Arlene Dickinson, Vanessa Campion, John Campion, Lee-Anne McAlear, Jim Harris, Meredith Oke, Arwen Humphreys, Joanne Morra, Katrina Onstad, Becki Rose, Steve Erwin and the rest of my family.

Random House and Doubleday Canada: Kristin Cochrane, Brad Martin, Adria Iwasutiak and especially Nita Pronovost, the brains behind this whole operation.

My gals at Gowlings: Susan Abramovitch and Shelagh Carnegie, and Andrew Kay and Marisa De Luca at Kay Warburton.

Random House US: Alexis Washam, Molly Stern, Dyana Messina, Danielle Crabtree, Julie Cepler and Sheila O’Shea.

Everyone at Fletcher and Company NYC: Melissa Chinchillo, Kevin Cotter, Mink Choi, Rachel Crawford, Grainne Fox, and of course, my marvelous agent Christy Fletcher.

Much love and thanks to all the publishers and readers around the world (what writer doesn’t want to write that sentence?) for embracing S.E.C.R.E.T. and making it your own.

ABOUT THE BOOK

One year ago, Cassie Robichaud joined S.E.C.R.E.T.—the sexual sisterhood dedicated to fulfilling erotic fantasies for one lucky woman at a time. Now that she has completed her ten steps, Cassie puts her newfound expertise to work as guide to Dauphine Mason, S.E.C.R.E.T.’s latest recruit. The two women come from different worlds, but both know the feeling of being shackled by old wounds: Northern-born Cassie, heartbroken from a failed marriage, endured a years-long sexual dry spell before she earned her S.E.C.R.E.T. charms; Southern girl Dauphine, still reeling from a painful betrayal eight years ago, dresses her customers beautifully and watches her favorite bands from the crowd, but lacks the confidence to join the party herself. Like Cassie a year before, Dauphine craves the courage to come out of her shell—and the women of S.E.C.R.E.T. are ready to show her the way. Sex and sensuality are at the heart of S.E.C.R.E.T.’s work, but as the fantasies are fulfilled, the women also see their whole lives changed. Dauphine is finally able to make strides she never thought possible as she begins to leave the past behind. But as Cassie is learning, the kick-start that S.E.C.R.E.T. provides is only the beginning: each woman now faces choices that only she can make as she learns to live in body, mind and heart.

1.    Cassie Robichaud and Dauphine Mason were both hurt by the men from their past. Both women isolate as a result. By partaking in S.E.C.R.E.T., how does Dauphine successfully leave those memories behind? How did Cassie? How does Dauphine’s journey differ from Cassie’s? How are they similar?

2.    When Dauphine Mason is on the shore of the Abita River for her first fantasy, she is nervous, self-conscious, and frozen, but she tells herself: “
Stop thinking. Act
,” and takes the plunge as she accepts her first Step. What are some other examples throughout the book where Dauphine stops thinking and acts? What results does she get? Have you ever had to “shake yourself free” this way?

3.    If you were a member of S.E.C.R.E.T., would you want to be a guide, recruiter or fantasy facilitator? Cassie experiments with all three roles—which do you think suits her best?

4.    “You did it. You gave up control.” For Dauphine, her journey in S.E.C.R.E.T. is a path leading her from a life ruled by control to one where she is finally able to let go. With each Step, she lets go of the familiar, routine and isolated life to which she finds herself increasingly clinging. What kinds of things do you control that you could benefit from letting go of? What steps have you taken to give up that control? What would freedom from those habits look like?