“You want to buy Hang Ten from me?” The notion was ringing in Nick’s head like a loud bullhorn.
“Yes.” Phil nodded. “This is a solution where everybody wins.”
Nick’s head was still reeling, but he managed to say, “To be honest, Phil, I hadn’t considered selling Hang Ten.”
“I completely understand,” Phil said, but Nick doubted it. He couldn’t possibly understand that they were asking him to give up the one thing in this world that he’d done right. He hadn’t saved his brother, he couldn’t save his mother, and if he didn’t save Hang Ten, well then, he’d be a three time loser.
“I’m gonna have to think about this,” Nick told Phil.
Phil nodded. “Take a couple of days. But Nick, it is the best offer we can make, and we think, the best one you’re going to get.”
Nick gave him that much. He didn’t exactly have people beating down the door to help him. No one else he could ever hope to sell the restaurant to would want to hire him to run the place.
Nick stood and Phil did the same. “I’ll be in touch,” Nick said, shaking his hand.
He didn’t want to commit to anything just yet. He knew he had little choice in the matter, but he wanted another day or two of being able to say Hang Ten was his. When it came down to the wire, and he was forced to sell out, that would no longer be the case.
On the hillside terrace overlooking the Pacific, a gentle, salt-scented breeze wafted past Lecie. The house was new to her, but she loved it. She loved California. She loved freedom.
Oh, Papa, why must you meddle in other people’s lives? She let out a grumble and laid her head back on the sofa cushion.
“Turns out…” Camille said, sitting down on the chair to Lecie’s right, “being an adult is rough.”
Lecie snorted. “You said it.” She propped her shades up on top of her head and looked Camille in the eye. “I really don’t want to enter into an arranged marriage.”
“Well, no one says you have to.”
“I’m not going back to France any time soon, either.”
“Not willingly, anyway.”
“I keep hoping that Papa will see the light.” Lecie giggled, wondering how Camille would feel about her using one of Camille’s favorite lines.
To her delight, Camille laughed. Soon though, she was shaking her head. “But you and I both know that’s not likely.” Camille sucked in a breath and shot Lecie a smile that wavered. “When it comes to you and your brothers, Maurice thinks it’s his god-given right to direct your lives. And no matter how old you get, that won’t change.”
“You seem to have put him in his place.”
“Not really,” Camille said. “I just figured out how to appease him.” She chuckled, then her expression turned serious. “Here’s the thing…you need to decide what you’re going to do. If you wait until immigration approaches you, it’ll be too late.”
“Are you telling me to go out and find a husband today?”
“No.” Camille shook her head. “You have a choice.”
“I do?”
Camille nodded. “Either find a suitable man, or call your mother and tell her you’re returning to France with us next week.”
“So it’s like that, huh?”
“Pretty much.” Camille stared toward the ground, closed her eyes for just a second and then looked back up at Lecie. “Unfortunately, this is not one of those times when a person can simply choose to ignore something and it’ll go away. Your father isn’t going away. He’s coming at you full speed ahead.”
“As much as I don’t like to admit it,” Lecie said. “I know that. I don’t want it to be so, but you’re right…I have to prepare.”
Camille shook her head. “I’m not here to talk you into doing something rash. But I promised your brother that by the time I left this country, you’d either be married or returning home to France with me. So you see…” Camille grinned. “I have to make sure you choose the right guy.”
Lecie laughed. “Is there a wrong one?”
“Oh, yes.” Camille sighed. “Tons of them.”
Tell me about it. But when it came to it, there was no right guy for Lecie because Mr. Right was already married. That alone should make her want to run back to France. But it didn’t. And even though this would probably turn out badly, she wasn’t ready to go, and she’d be damned if she’d let Papa make her.
“Well, then…” Lecie swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Perhaps tomorrow we will start looking.”
Either that, or Lecie had better start packing her bags.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NICK STARED ACROSS THE TABLE at his and Dean’s childhood friends, Ken and Jerod. Getting together on Fridays for lunch was a ritual ever since graduating high school. Now that Nick owned a restaurant, that made it even easier. They never needed a reservation or had to worry about waiting for a table.
“I can’t believe you’re going to have to sell this place,” Ken said, gazing around Hang Ten’s dining room.
“Don’t you have any sort of legal recourse?” Jerod asked the same question that everyone—even Nick—kept asking.
“I went to the police,” Nick said. “They said that because I’d made her a joint owner on the accounts there’s nothing I can do, other than have a restraining order issued against her. So I did.”
“He’d probably get farther with a civil suit,” Ken, a paralegal for a top-notch criminal attorney, shrugged and bit into his fully-loaded burger.
Dean gave Ken a hardened glare. “A civil suit. Really? Is that the best you can come up with.”
Ken swallowed and said, “I don’t make the rules…”
“What she’s done is criminal,” Jerod said with a determined nod.
“Regardless,” Nick’s stern tone got their attention. “I made her joint owner on nearly all my accounts.” He shrugged. “We were gonna get married for Crissakes.” Nick shook his head. Even now, almost two weeks after being dumped at the altar, he still found himself dumbfounded over how naïve and gullible he’d been where Ginny was concerned. “It’s my own fault.” There was nothing or no one to blame except Nick and his own stupidity. “I’m just glad I didn’t add her name to Hang Ten’s title yet, otherwise, she’d be taking half of this place too.” Nick glanced around, realizing he’d been gifted with a bit of luck. Small as it may be, but a little luck nonetheless.