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As I thought: massive house, massive staff.
I had no idea, but maybe the Alcotts were even more loaded than we were, and that was saying something.
“Champagne, if you have it,” I ordered. I turned to the room at large. “We’re celebrating, correct?”
“Absolutely,” Daniel brayed cheerily.
Richard and Jane remained mute.
“Mrs. Ryan?” the butler asked Lou.
“Champagne too, please.”
He dipped his head and floated away.
Daniel had retrieved his own drink, what appeared to be a G and T, and he lifted it my way.
“I’m not ashamed to admit, I’m addicted to your éclairs,” he proclaimed. “When I’m in the city, I try to swing by your shop. This was even before I met Portia,” he declared, sliding an arm along my sister’s waist and tucking her to his side.
“Well, thank you,” I replied.
“Best patisserie in London, even The Guardian said so,” Daniel told his parents.
Portia piped up. “Daphne studied in Paris. Grand diplôme from Le Cordon Bleu with an internship with François Perreault. He’s known to have the best patisserie in Paris. It’s in the Latin Quarter.”
Unspoken by my sister, but probably known by all the Alcotts, was that I fell in love with and married François Perreault, and then, after the third time I discovered he’d cheated on me, I’d fallen out of love and divorced him.
The courtship lasted two years.
The marriage lasted two more.
The divorce was five years ago.
The bitterness remained.
Although everyone knew François, I suspect even the Alcotts—he was that famous because he was that good—they were completely unimpressed.
I wished I could have filmed their non-reaction at the mention of Frankie’s name. He’d lose his mind that they hadn’t sighed with reverence.
Though, Lady Jane had a figure like Lou’s, so I doubted she’d had an éclair or a mille-feuille in a long time.
Or ever.
The butler handed me a coupé glass of champagne.
I checked to see if Lou had hers (she did), before I raised mine and asked, “Shall we toast to family and new friends?”
“Perfect!” Daniel cried. “I’ll toast to that!”
Lou and Portia raised their glasses with Daniel, Richard and Jane slightly held theirs in front of them.
I ignored their lukewarm participation (they were still participating) and said, “Cheers.”
And then I drank half the glass.
Four
THE TURQUOISE ROOM
