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I drew a blank. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"I'll tell you one thing—you should be scared," David said.
I laughed. "Why?"
"Because whenever they bring out the lilac, some serious shit is about to go down," he concluded.
It was bizarre to hear him use that expression. But he insisted that he wanted to “keep up with the times.” That included keeping up with slang.
I waved my hand. "I've heard some stories involving lilac, but I don't remember any of them."
David looked at Felix and said, "Then don't tell the boy anything more. It never helps to know too much."
My family was truly something else.
"Okay, gotta go. I don't want to be late picking up Bella.”
I headed straight to the car and wondered why they thought I came along just to keep an eye on them.
Though I couldn't deny that I enjoyed the day, too, as I always relaxed best when I was with my family. I didn't have to pretend or be on guard. Being a CEO meant spending a lot of mytime putting up my professional facade so people knew not to mess with us. But I could be myself around family.
However, I would’ve much rather spent it with Scarlett. Last night had been far too short, and this morning too. Every interaction we had was hurried, or it had an expiration date on it, and I didn't like it. I wanted to take my time with her. I had half a mind to surprise her with an afternoon espresso and spend time with her even if it was just a few minutes, but I was already late picking up Bella. I was addicted to Scarlett. And I knew my idea for dinner would make her evening.
I called The Sister Club. It was a mom-and-pop shop that had once been run by two sisters. Now it was run by two cousins, and they made hands down the best meat pies in the city. Bella and I always had them on Sundays after I picked her up. It was our tradition.
"Good evening."
"Hey, this is Chad LeBlanc."
"Hi, Chad," Giselle, the owner, said.
"Listen, can you send an extra delivery tonight?"
"Sure. To your house? Same thing as usual?"
"No, not my house. I'll text you the address."
"How much should I send?"
"One portion."
"Is this for one of your brothers? Because I've got to tell you, I’ve got a beef with Julian."
I laughed. "Who doesn't? But no, it's for...," I began, but then said, "for the chef who just started at my restaurant."
"Scarlett."
I nearly dropped my phone. "How do you know?" I asked. New Orleans was by no means a small town.
"Think we wouldn't find out that LeBlanc & Broussard's has a new chef? The whole Quarter knows, darling."
"Right."
"Okay. We'll make a portion for her too. Anything else?"
"Just make sure you send it with another guy so we get delivery at the same time.” They had their own drivers, which allowed them to be fast and efficient.
“Sure.”
