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“Open yours.”
She ripped the envelope open and removed a letter, then passed it my way.
“Read it to me, Solange. I’m vibrating from nerves.”
I scanned the words on the cover letter, written in the same neat penmanship as my note.
“He’s returning something called Red Rage,” I said. “It’ll arrive tomorrow by special freight.”
“He’s what? That’s … that’s the painting he bought from us in Buenos Aires. What else does he say?”
I cleared my throat and read.
“ … the painting was never mine to begin with, Matilda,” I read. “In fact, I can’t look at it without thinking of my ungentlemanly actions towards Cassie, towards Dauphine in Buenos Aires, and I’m sure you’ve heard about Solange in Paris. I’m a man unused to hearing no, to being denied what I want. I’ve decided to make amends by returning the painting. My hope is that we can keep all of this matter a ‘secret,’ as it were, now and in perpetuity. I hope this gift will guarantee many more healthy years for your group. Yours remorsefully, Pierre Castille.”
We were both quiet for some time.
“Well, this has been a very interesting day,” Matilda said, staring into the middle distance. “What exactly did you do to that man, Solange?”
I told her about what might have been his moment of clarity—my well-placed knee to his groin.
“Well, you certainly had an impact. I am so sorry you went through that. All I can say is thank you. This means that S.E.C.R.E.T. is not only alive and well, but we have the means to make your last fantasy a really, really good one,” she said.
“Truth be told, Matilda, my time in S.E.C.R.E.T. has been incredible. And I want to thank you for each and every one of my fantasies. But they’ve also given me a whole new appreciation for my reality. And there’s one staring me straight in the face. I can’t ignore it any longer.”
I told her about my renewed feelings for Julius, that they had come almost out of nowhere.
“Does Julius know?” she asked.
“I think he suspects something’s up. But I was the one who ended things with him. So he’s rightfully wary. Any advice on how to win back your ex?”
“I wish I knew myself, Solange,” she said wistfully.
Just then, we heard the grinding sound of the front gates opening. Through her office window, we watched a limo ease through and turn towards the Mansion’s front portico.
Matilda looked at her watch. “Sit back in your chair for a tight second. Your recruit has just arrived for his training session.”
“You can probably give him the night off,” I joked, resisting the urge to sneak a peek.
“True. I could do that,” she said, her eyes still on the limo, a sly smile playing across her lips. “But I think I’ll just let the training session proceed. Why not? It’s just sex, right? That’s the easy part. It’s love that vexes.”
Gus had been looking forward to sleeping at his dad’s that night, and I was looking forward to seeing Julius, so we were both a little disappointed when he texted to say that his deep-fry guy and the cashier on one of his trucks both called in sick.
When I told Gus his night with his dad was canceled, instead of sulking, he said, “Why don’t we go help him?”
“My brilliant child,” I said, kissing his face a bunch of times.
He resisted me, but only a little.
We headed up to the Freret Street location dressed to serve. I was a natural with that fry basket; Gus made a champion coin roller. Some people recognized me from the news, and I joked that I was moonlighting so that I could spend more time with my men.
“Great team effort,” Julius said at closing time, locking up the truck and drawing back the awning.
“The Formidable Faradays,” Gus added.
“That’s us, baby,” I said, my eyes lingering on Julius.
I hadn’t packed an overnight bag for Gus, so Julius had to drop us off. I invited him to stay for a late bite, and he took off his shoes at the door and didn’t leave. We ate together, and laughed together, the three of us at one table. After dinner, after I cleaned up, and after he tucked Gus in, Julius found me standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at him, hopeful, expectant, adoring.
