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I’m speechless. Not in a million years did I expect Jocelin to defend me like that to his mom, and my chest aches with gratitude and affection. Astrid and Tom have always had my back, but this… I have no words, and I’m a little choked up. I clear my throat and address Livia, though I can’t stop smiling at Jocelin. “Tadhg has taught me so much since I’ve been working with him. Any promise I have is a direct result of his tutelage.”
She waves her hand in dismissal and turns back to her menu. “Nonsense. If Jocelin says you have talent, then you have talent.” I feel like I can’t win here. “Where did you study?”
The sommelier appears with our wine and uncorks it, offering me a sample. I don’t roll my eyes, but it’s close. I cursorily go through the motions of smelling and tasting the sample before nodding my approval, then return my focus to Livia, letting the sommelier pour for everyone.
“I received both my undergraduate and graduate degrees from the University of Washington.”
Guillaume sets down his menu, and for the first time this evening, takes an interest in the conversation. “Ah! Where Jocelin earned hisJuris Doctor. What made you choose to go there?”
“I earned a scholarship, and my family is from the area.”
Guillaume actually looks impressed. “I’m sure your parents are very proud of you.”
For a moment, everything stops as my emotions fly from hurt to anger to bitterness and then resignation. I smile, though it probably looks as forced as it feels. “My dad died when I was thirteen, and my mom was killed when I was seventeen. But I’d like to think they’d be proud of the person I’ve become.”
The table goes silent, and Jocelin squeezes my hand. “I’m certain they would be. I know I am. And I’m very proud to be with you.” He lifts my hand and presses my knuckles to his lips.
Guillaume clears his throat. “I’m so very sorry, Gunnar. That must have been quite difficult for you.”
I nod. This is not the dinner conversation I imagined we’d have, but here we are. And I’m not going to shy away from it. “It was. It was difficult for all of us. Me and my brothers and sister.”
“Papa, you remember me telling you about my friend Astrid. She and Gunnar are twins.”
Guillaume smiles at Jocelin, obviously grateful for the change in topic. “Ah! So is that how you two met?”
I have no idea which details of our initial meeting Jocelin might want to share with his parents, so I take the opportunity to look over the menu and let him answer.
He seems to understand and jumps in. “We met at a book event for Gary Atkinson’s latest novel. Astrid is his editor. Gunnar and I hit it off immediately and have barely been apart since.” Jocelin’s beautiful face turns a soft shade of pink, and it’s utterly charming. I caress his jaw, and he turns his face into my touch, pressing his lips to my palm in a soft kiss. I don’t look at his parents, mostly because I don’t care what they think about these brief displays of affection. Screw them if they don’t like it.
Our discussion halts again as the waiter appears to take our orders. The atmosphere around the table is more relaxed after the interruption, and the conversation goes much better.
“So,papa, how is business?”
“Currently, it’s good. The economy is doing well, and the government seems to be playing nice for the moment, so financial markets are up. The latest crop of analysts is as frustrating as ever. Not a standout in the bunch. But the older generation always thinks that of the younger generation, no?” A fond look passes between father and son, and I find myself liking Guillaume even more despite his wife.
“So, Mr. Allard, what is it you do?”
Livia bristles, but Guillaume seems to take no offense at my ignorance. “I own a global investment company in Quebec.” He winks at Jocelin. “I had thought perhaps my son might follow me into the field. He always had a gift for finance. But he found his passion in law, and I am very proud of him for being true to himself.” He turns his attention to me. “I have never been able to deny my son what makes him truly happy.”
Meeting his gaze, I nod, feeling the weight of the evening lift from my shoulders. Is that his way of giving his approval? I glance at Livia, who shrugs and looks affectionately at her son. “Jocelin, your happiness has always been what is truly important.”
When I look over to Jocelin, he’s staring at his drink but smiling. He lifts his gaze to me, trying to blink away tears, and places his hand, palm up, on the table between us. Without hesitation, I take it, wondering what I’ve missed. Jocelin squeezes once but doesn’t let go, and neither do I. I’m perfectly happy to hold his hand anytime. “Okay, babe?” He nods and smiles.
Our dinner conversation flows smoothly, and by the time we finish dessert, the topic has meandered back to me.
Livia stirs cream into her tea. “Gunnar, Jocelin has told us about Astrid. She is your twin? And you mentioned brothers. How many?”
“Two. Both are older. My oldest brother, Bjorn, is a police officer.”
Jocelin interjects. “He’s a member of Seattle’s S.W.A.T. team.”
“Yes. He’s training to go into hostage negotiations. And my other brother, Erik, runs a Seattle-based hiking and camping tour company with his fiancé.”
Jocelin chuckles. “We have quite the family dinner each week. There are seven of us, usually. And it’s rowdy and fun… and the food!Maman, you would love the cooking. Everyone makes the most amazing dishes. And the wine!”
I turn to Livia. “I swear, Jocelin and Bjorn are both trying to kill me with the spicy dishes.”
Jocelin interrupts excitedly. “He’s going to make something authentically Indian for us this Sunday.”
