“Second part of what?”
“He can definitely be a prick,” Apollo says.
“He really can.” Boone grins at Dallas.
“But he’s not a liar,” Apollo finishes.
“Dallas has never lied in his life,” Boone seconds. “I can’t think of a single time.”
“Me either. Our boy istoohonest sometimes. That big brain of his is incapable of anything but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
“So help us God.” Boone and Apollo hold their hands to their hearts.
We’re all quiet for a few seconds as this vow floats reverently and then settles. Once it does, Dallas turns to the next page. “You also own the White Swan. We’ll be competing with ourselves to a degree, but each one has its own style and flavor so I think it’ll work. Unless you want to combine them into one, but that’ll be up to you to decide. And you own the two buildings in between the Hotel Thibodeaux and the White Swan too. For a residence.”
“A what?” My brain is short-circuiting.
“Our house.” Dallas’s gaze is fixed on mine. “Oneof our houses. We’ll divide our time. You can do anything you want toit. We’ll have some plans drawn up and you can work with the design teams to build your dream home. It’ll be one of our smaller homes but I think we can turn it into the best one of all.” There’s the faintest hint of a smile behind his eyes as he watches my stunned reaction gently. “What doyouthink, Amelie Thibodeaux?”
I think I might love you.
“Holy shit,” Sadie gasps my exact sentiment.
“So … you weren’t lying … about any of it?” My question almost feels redundant after Dallas’s brothers’ descriptions of his undying honesty. But, still, I have to ask it. I’ve been fooled so many times before by earnest assurances that turned out to be bald-faced lies.
“I’veneverlied to you, Amelie,” Dallas says. “Or anyone else. Butespeciallyyou.” He seems almost hurt by my refusal to blindly believe him, just because he has legal contracts … and family members vouching for him … and emotion-filled eyes that couldn’t look more sincere if hewascompeting for Best Actor. “And I never will.”
“Amen,” says Apollo dramatically, and we all look at him for a few seconds.
But then Dallas turns yet another page. “I’ve attached two hundred million to the project for taxes, compliance, upgrades, architects, designers, staff, and so on. We can always add more if we need it. We’ll want that chef back from Paris for the restaurant. What did you say his name was?”
“Marcel.” Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe this is a movie set of a film starring Apollo Wilder that I’ve stumbled onto. This can’t be real.
But Dallas still isn’t finished. “I wanted it to be a surprise. But I’ve learned the hard way, Boo: no more surprises. I should have just told you what I was working on all along, but I wanted to make sure it was going to go through before putting you through any uncertainty. I wanted to present it to you as a done deal. It literally all came together yesterday. And I was going to tell you tonight. Oh, and all of it has been placed in a trust. It’s called Thibodeaux Holdings. So you can never lose it.”
43
Of all themany details of what Dallas is telling me, which are slowly sinking in, like dripping water through the tiny hole in my head, this detail spears me directly through the heart and sinks deep into my soul. Every sad memory, every ache over losing the most important things in my life, every terrified night, every stark realization of how very alone in this world I’ve been. All of it has been … solved. Fixed. Just like that.
He knew about each one.
And he picked up each individual broken brick of my life’s wreckage, brushed off its dust, repaired it, then reassembled the brickwork to be not just a replica of my old life’s architecture, but a beautiful, idealized version of it.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.
“Say yes.”
Dallas’s eyes get more blue when he’s stormy. But when he’sbeguiled, like now, it’s the green of them that glows brightest. I touch my hand to his face. “You really did all that for me?”
“I’ll do anything for you. You should know that by now.”
With my movement, Dallas notices my light wince from the pain in my head. He sees the wrapped ice pack, marked with a small amount of blood. “Amelie? What happened? Are you hurt?”
I’m more shocked than he is. Because the sheer depth of his concern is something I’ve never experienced before. Of course I’ve had people care about me in my life. But not like this. Itpainshim, that anything might be wrong with me, as though the very thought of such a travesty is more than he can bear. Themagnitudeof this singular emotion in him is simply the most profound thing that’s ever happened to me. The floor that dropped out of my life has been replaced and it’s built of steel, concrete and the ten-ton bond I have with this beautiful man, my savior, my lover and my dream come true.
He turns my head very carefully, seeing the drying blood that has matted my hair at the back. “Amelie. You’re fuckingbleeding.” He glances briefly at the door, which is still swarming with security—even though I’m suspecting now it’s more about the fact that three Wilder brothers have entered the club. “Did those cops being here have anything to do withyou?”
“That guy that just got taken away pushed her,” Sadie tells him. “She fell and bumped her head and passed out for a minute. Not a minute. More like ten or fifteen seconds. There were already cops outside and lots of witnesses so they arrested him on the spot. I was going to call an ambulance but Amelie didn’t want me to.”
