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The Marriage Fix (Billionaire Games #3) Page 4
Author: Sandra Edwards

Oh, well. Lecie blew out a soft sigh and reached for a donut with her free hand. He was married now. Practically. She needed to find a way to move on. “Maybe I’ll just stop hanging out at Hang Ten,” she kidded herself. While steering clear of Nick’s restaurant was doable, although doubtful, Lecie had no plans to leave California any time soon.

Her cell phone vibrated on the breakfast tray. She leaned forward to glance at the display. Mama. Well, perhaps she should take her call. It was one thing to ignore Papa, but quite another with Mama. Lecie set her OJ on the table and picked up the phone, clicking on the call. “Hello, Mama.”

“Good morning! It’s not too early there, is it?” Mama’s voice poured out from the speakers.

“No, Mama. I’m awake…and up, enjoying a wonderful view of the Pacific Ocean.”

“I guess I don’t need to ask if you’re having fun.” There was no questioning in Mama’s voice, just assumption.

Instantly, Lecie had a desire to cry to her mother about Nick’s wedding today. But that was a bad idea. Right now, Mama was the only thing standing between Papa and Lecie. Mama had taken a hands off approach to Lecie’s American adventure, even after she and Deidra had left Mavis Ferguson’s house in Florida without a word to anyone back in France.

But this, crying over some guy who was getting married today? That was the kind of thing that’d push Mama over the edge, and onto Papa’s side. Lecie wasn’t strong enough to challenge both of them.

We’re having a wonderful time, Mama,” Lecie said with conviction. “And before you ask, yes, Deidra and I are being very careful about who we trust.”

Strangers. That had been Mama’s main complaint. She was worried about something happening to Lecie and Deidra. But she, unlike Papa, realized that she could not cage Lecie up forever. She was, after all, twenty-three years old. Sooner or later, they had to let her live her own life, make her own mistakes. And that time was now—thanks to Lecie’s brothers’ uncle who had included her in his will.

Sometimes, Lecie forgot that Julian and Andre were only her half-brothers, and that Mama was not their mother. That Papa had had another wife before Mama. It didn’t feel that way. Occasionally, Lecie even thought that Julian might be Mama’s favorite. Most of the time though, Mama treated them all equally—which made Lecie’s inheritance from Edouard Renault seem a bit surreal.

“That’s good, darling.” Mama’s gentle but sober voice brought Lecie back to the conversation. “I want you to have fun and see the world, but I also want you to be safe.”

“I promise, Mama…we’re not letting our guards down.”

“I would feel better if we could send one of the valets over to help you out.”

“I wouldn’t feel right about taking Soren or Simon away from Julian and Andre.” But she did understand her mother’s point, and even agreed with it to an extent. At least about the part of having someone else take care of the house. “I’ll look for someone over here.”

“But it would still be a stranger, dear.” Mama’s tone filled with worry. “Soren’s brother Gerard is available. What if we sent him over?” It wasn’t really a question so much as a fact, and Lecie knew that.

“I don’t know, Mama…” her voice trailed off as she lost her confidence, right along with the ability to stand up to Mama.

Lecie had to admit though, if she was going to hire a butler it would be nice to have someone already acquainted with the family. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that this was a trap being set by Papa.

“It would make me feel better,” Mama said in that tone that always indicated the matter was settled. “And it might appease your father. You should know, he does not like the fact that you are in America. He wants you to come home, one way or another.”

“So he wants me to come home.” Lecie laughed it off. “What’s he going to do? He can’t force me. I’m over twenty-one.” Twenty-three, to be exact. Papa couldn’t do anything legally, and now, thanks to Uncle Edouard, Papa had lost his final remaining hold on her—finances.

“Sweetheart…” Even with the one word, Mama’s voice had become overrun with caution. “Never underestimate your father.” Mama paused, and Lecie pictured her shaking her head.

“Seriously, Mama. What’s he going to do?”

“Don’t forget that you’re in America on a visa. A temporary visa.” Claudette stopped talking. The silence gave Lecie’s head a chance to fill up with new and scary scenarios of Papa having her deported. Just when she was about to completely freak out, Mama said, “He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. You should be prepared for that.”

“Then you stop him, Mama.” A newfound desperation had fueled Lecie’s words. She wasn’t ready to go home. Not yet.

“Darling…” Mama chuckled. “You have a lot to learn about men.” Her voice had softened, but her words were as determined as ever. Mama also had a way of getting what she wanted. “Shall I send Gerard over?”

Lecie hesitated, unable to fully contain her despair before it escaped with a slight moan.

Mama added, “Of course, de Laurent Enterprises will pay his salary.”

“No, no, no…” Lecie objected. “I’ll pay his salary. I want him loyal to me…not Papa.”

CHAPTER THREE

STANDING IN FRONT OF THE MIRRORED DRESSER, Nick fiddled with the bow tie. How he’d managed to stay at Dean’s all night was a mystery. Truth be told, there were a couple of times when he’d seriously contemplated slipping out the back and driving by the house, just to be on the safe side. Assure himself that everything was okay.

Course, Nick was being paranoid. He knew that. And comparing Ginny to his brother Kevin was stupid. Ginny was as straight-laced as they come. She didn’t do drugs. Hell, she barely drank alcohol. Just getting her to agree to sip some champagne at the reception had been a chore.

Even so, the feeling was there in his gut that something was wrong. That same feeling that had consumed him in the days before Kevin’s death. It hadn’t been a secret that Kevin Matthews, at the age of seventeen, had had a drug problem. Heroin. It’s what killed him.

Nick had replayed that scenario over in his head millions of times in the seventeen years since. If he’d only listened to his gut, could he have saved Kevin? But Nick was only fifteen when his brother died. Far too young to be mature enough to make a difference.

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Sandra Edwards's Novels
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