False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [13]
“All right. Let me change into something cooler.” Zoe fumbled to get the paper back in the envelope and quickly slipped it on the bottom of the stack.
“Anything interesting in the mail?”
“Just bills. I’ll keep them with the others and pay them all next week.”
“I don’t know why you don’t learn how to pay them online and save yourself the trouble.”
“Do we have to have this conversation every other week? I like writing them out! Okay?”
“I’m just trying to save you time.” Pierce’s thick, dark eyebrows formed a bushy line. “Would you rather not go out for dinner? I can make us something here.”
“Actually I’d like to go out.” She shot him an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I had another run-in with one of the waitresses for coming to work with cleavage showing. Why don’t these girls understand what’s appropriate attire for work and what isn’t? I’m fed up with having to police them.” Nice save! “Anyhow, I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Let me go change. It’ll just take a minute.”
Zoe went into the bedroom and flopped on the bed, her gut already starting to churn. Was she jumping to conclusions about the meaning of the note? Did it matter? The statute of limitations had run. The law couldn’t touch her.
So what might the bearer of the note hope to get from her—money? Was she willing to pay for someone’s silence? Could she afford to? Then again, could she handle what it would do to Pierce if he learned the truth about her? The thought of losing his love and respect terrified her. And so did the thought of losing her business and her reputation. If she agreed to pay money, would that be the end of it? Or would she be trapped into paying someone for the rest of her life? This was never supposed to happen!
She closed her eyes and willed away the fear. How she loved this quaint community of Les Barbes. Its French name translated as “beards”—which perfectly described the Spanish moss that hung from the live oaks and cypress trees. Before she moved here, had she any concept of what it was to really belong—to be part of something bigger than she?
People here had roots. Proud roots soaked with the tears of their Acadian ancestors and transplanted deep in this foreign land that had received them with open arms when no one else would. Les Cadiens made Louisiana their home and evolved into a new people—Cajuns—never wavering in their Catholic beliefs, but with a language, music, and cuisine uniquely their own. Cajuns had not only survived; they had redefined themselves and thrived. Isn’t that what she had done? Wasn’t she a perfect fit here among them—as one of them—even if her name wasn’t really Zoe Benoit and she didn’t have a drop of Cajun blood in her veins?
Suddenly she was aware of the music playing at Breaux’s. How long had she been sitting there?
She got up and took a light blue sundress from her closet and put it on, then sat on the bed and slipped into her most comfortable sandals.
Pierce appeared in the doorway. “About ready?”
Zoe nodded, aware that her heart was racing and that she was perspiring.
“You sure you’re up to this?” Pierce came over to the bed and sat beside her, his arm around her. “Your face is flushed. That must’ve been some run-in.”
“Well, it’s the last one. Tomorrow I’m going to pick out uniforms.” She laid her head on his shoulder, glad to avoid eye contact. “I should’ve done it before now. Today’s low-cut fashions are inappropriate for the workplace—at least Zoe B’s.”
“There you go, Mrs. Broussard. Problem solved. See how easy that was?” Pierce got up and pulled her to her feet, his expression completely guileless. “If that’s the worst challenge we face, babe, I’d say life’s pretty good.”
And what if it isn’t? she thought. What if life as we know it is about to end?
CHAPTER 4
Vanessa sat with Ethan and Carter at a