Secret Baby Scandal(29)

       
           



       

Alarms blared in Jean-Pierre's head as he held up a finger to signal to  his brothers that he'd be with them in a moment. After all the toasts  about family, he didn't want to let them down today.

"Do you have any reason to believe she knows about our son?" They'd  been so careful he didn't think that was possible. But then again, this  woman-a menace to the football community for reasons he couldn't begin  to guess-was now circulating among their closest friends and family.

Who knew what she might hear this weekend?

"No." Tatiana shook her head, biting her lip, rubbing her arms in a  nervous shiver. "But I'm scared. And I have a bad feeling about her. I'm  sure she was unhappy with me when I told her I was going to report her  for perjury. Attorney-client privilege doesn't apply in this instance  since I am no longer her lawyer and I wasn't acting as her lawyer when  she spoke to me."

"You told her that?" His insides sank with foreboding.

"I was angry." Her eyes glistened. "I unknowingly helped her ruin an innocent man's reputation."

Jean-Pierre hauled her into a hug as the chamber orchestra finished  their song. There were no words to make this better. The guilt in her  eyes spoke volumes. It hadn't been her fault she'd believed her client  and done her job. He saw that now and wished he could have been more  levelheaded then. He held her tighter, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"The wedding is about to begin." He kissed her cheek. "We'll figure it out. Save me a seat and we'll talk afterward."

He didn't like walking away from her when she was so upset. But he had a duty to perform.

His sixth sense niggled in the back of his mind even as he reached the  floral archway to wait with Gervais for his bride. Already he knew it  was going to be a bad day for a marriage proposal of his own. He just  hoped his proposal was the only thing ruined on a day that should be the  happiest of his brother's life.





Twelve

The wedding reception was truly magical.

After the sunset beachside vows, guests were ushered into a hacienda  pavilion built in the style of traditional Spanish colonial  architecture. The tile floors and sun-bleached stone walls supported  high arches looking out over the water. A dark tile roof protected them  from the sun, while the ever-present solar panels collected the energy  to keep the generators running. The chamber musicians had given up their  spot to a popular country band and already the foreign princesses were  dancing with dashing husbands in various hues of military dress and  ornamentation. A few of the younger football players joined them,  two-stepping circles around the more formal waltzes of their royal  counterparts.

Greenery bedecked every archway and long ropes of ivy decorated the  exposed beams overhead. The effect was like having a party in a secret  garden. Erika had told Tatiana earlier that they'd purchased the flowers  and greens back when they hoped to have the event on Lake  Pontchartrain, but if the princess minded exchanging her vows on a beach  and having her reception in a hacienda instead, no one would have ever  guessed. She danced with Gervais long before any formal introduction of  the couple, and Tatiana couldn't help but admire a bride who didn't  stand on ceremony.

If a woman only had one wedding in her life, she deserved to have fun  during every moment of it. That was one of many reasons Tatiana was on  the lookout for her former client while Jean-Pierre consulted with Henri  and Dempsey in a far corner of the pavilion. She didn't want more  scandal to dim Erika's enjoyment of her day.

"I recognize this young woman all grown up." The male voice close to Tatiana's elbow surprised her. "Care to dance?"

She turned to find Leon Reynaud, the man who had fired her father. Leon  had been formidable well into his seventies, but his age had caught up  to him a bit. His shoulders had thinned and he'd lost some of the  impressive height that had been a genetic gift to his football-playing  grandsons. Wispy white hair and overgrown white eyebrows didn't detract  from the elegance of his appearance, however. She took in the crisp  black tuxedo and starched French cuffs turned back from gnarled fingers  as he offered his arm.                       
       
           



       

"I'd love to, sir, but I'm waiting to speak to your grandson. And are  you sure you remember me?" She would be surprised if he knew her. He'd  never paid her much attention when she'd visited their home in the past  since he'd usually been closeted with her father in business meetings  the whole time.

"You're the daughter of the infamous Jack Doucet, if I don't miss my  guess. I fired him." He said it with a jovial air, loud enough to turn  heads of people nearby. Perhaps he didn't realize how devastating it had  been for her father and her whole family at the time-and for years  afterward.

They didn't have the resources that the Reynauds did, and losing a  lucrative job over a petty grievance between friends had shaken the  Doucet family to its foundation.

This week, especially, she'd found herself wondering what might have  become of her relationship with Jean-Pierre if they hadn't been  separated so acrimoniously back then.

"You have a good memory." She had changed a lot since she was  seventeen. Especially in the last few months. Plus, she'd thought the  older man suffered from Alzheimer's.

"You should tell my nurse," he grumbled, pointing toward a middle-aged  woman in a pressed gray uniform standing a few feet away and taking  photos of the table arrangements. "She doesn't think I can remember  anything."

"Your nurse?" She studied the woman more closely and realized now the  older man was confused after all. "That can't be her. I recognize that  woman from Gervais's house. She's on the housekeeping staff."

Leon's eyes bulged. "Confound it, woman!" He turned on the housekeeper  and gripped her arm. "I knew you weren't my health-care worker."

His raised voice attracted more turned heads even though the band  continued to play. Jean-Pierre was by Tatiana's side almost instantly,  while Henri and Dempsey attempted to take their grandfather aside.

"What's wrong?" Jean-Pierre asked, slipping an arm around her shoulders, the muscles hard and firm against her.

She pointed to the maid who darted out of the pavilion the moment Leon released his hold.

"That woman." Tatiana pointed her out, a sinking feeling in her gut.  "Leon thought it was his caregiver, but I know she was the same woman  who greeted us the night we had dinner at your brother's home. I just  said I didn't think that could be his nurse and-"

"Who in the hell was she?" Leon was shouting now, loud enough to pull Gervais away from his new bride.

"Gramps, what's wrong?" He tried, like his brothers, to usher the  agitated man aside, but the more they tried to move him, the more  belligerent he became.

"You all sent me to a strange place with a woman I didn't even know and  tried to convince me she was my nurse." Leon scoffed as if the word  left a bad taste. "She's a harlot and a liar. She told me I missed  seeing Jean-Pierre's son, but I know damn well Jean-Pierre isn't a  father yet."

Tatiana froze.

Everyone close to her seemed to turn stone-still as well. Jean-Pierre  looked to her helplessly while his brothers looked at him, all of them  waiting for someone to say something. To announce whatever story it was  that they wanted to use.

Now was the time, while a whole pavilion full of wedding guests  listened. Including Blair Jones, who would surely have reason to want to  spread the gossip with malicious glee after Tatiana had threatened to  turn her in for perjury.

Tatiana shook her head at Jean-Pierre. She had no idea what to say. If  she'd had a good cover story for César, she would have given it out  months ago instead of running off to the Caribbean to give birth  privately.

"Come on, Gramps." Dempsey slung an arm around his grandfather as some  of the fight seemed to slip out of Leon. "Let's step away to figure out  what's going on and let Gervais have his wedding, okay?"

"Sure," Leon said agreeably, although his expression remained troubled. "You're a good boy, Theo. Always were my favorite."

Tatiana's heart squeezed painfully in her chest as she listened to him  say words destined to hurt his other children-and knowing she'd also  lost her window to admit the truth. That she and Jean-Pierre had a child  together. End of story.                       
       
           



       

Wasn't it? But if so, why had they waited so long to reveal it, missed  so many opportunities and flirted with disaster this way? It was as if  they'd set themselves up for failure.