French Roast (The French Twist Series Book 4) Read online

  French Roast

  Glynis Astie

  Copyright © 2017 by Glynis Astie

  Cover design by Megan Eisen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Tikinou LLC at [email protected]

  ISBN: 0-9989660-0-2

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9989660-0-7

  To my mother, for everything she gave me. I’m truly grateful for every single day we spent together.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with Glynis Astie

  Also by Glynis Astie

  Chapter One

  “Wait!” I yelled, surprised by the sound of sheer terror in my voice. Count to ten, Sydney. The first day of school is scary enough without having your mother melt down before your very young eyes.

  I swallowed briefly, gave my best approximation of a smile and gazed into my son’s angelic face. “You forgot your lunch bag, sweetheart.”

  Luc’s eyes widened in shock. “My cookies!”

  Louis took the bag from my shaking hands and placed it carefully in Luc’s coveted Darth Vader “pack pack.”

  “There’s no need to worry, Luc. Mommy’s famous chocolate chip cookies are now being guarded by the Dark Side.”

  Luc nodded with satisfaction and grabbed Louis’ hand. “Ready, Daddy?”

  My husband, the picture of calm and poise (he is French after all), grinned at his son. “Kindergarten, ho!”

  I gave Luc one more kiss, squeezed Louis’ hand and watched them walk down the street toward the bus stop, my face frozen in a mask of uncertainty. As soon as they were out of sight, the tears I had been fighting spilled down my face. I reluctantly returned to the house, taking comfort in the durability of my waterproof mascara. Raccoon eyes with my pale complexion would have given me a rather unflattering zombie-esque quality.

  After grabbing a fistful of tissues, I searched for my cell phone and dialed as fast as my frantic fingers would allow. The second she answered, I blurted the thought I had been obsessing over for the last three days.

  “I’ve been banned from the bus stop!” To be fair, this wasn’t the term my husband had used. He merely suggested I “allow myself a less public goodbye” on Luc’s first day of school—but it sure felt like I had been banned.

  Maya snorted. “Are you surprised? Louis is doing his best to preserve your image as a sane person for the sake of your son.”

  “I am a sane person,” I grumbled.

  “I have sixteen years’ worth of stories to prove otherwise, my dear.”

  She had a point.

  “Come on, Maya! I’ve been trying a lot harder since Luc was born, to, you know, curb the insanity.” Purely for my own benefit, I made half an air quote with my free hand.

  “I think we have completely different definitions of insanity, Syd.”

  Before I could make my rebuttal, she countered with, “Isn’t this a conversation you should be having with Kate?”

  Kate. My perfect older sister who was impossible not to like. She was beautiful, kind, generous to a fault and possessed the ability to put her eccentric younger sister back together when she let her anxiety take her a little too far.

  I hesitated. “I think I may have—”

  “Don’t tell me she finally reached her limit!”

  “Not as such…” Did I have to finish this sentence? I really didn’t want to give Maya the satisfaction of knowing the extent of my shame. She already had enough dirt on me to fill a series of novels.

  Maya cleared her throat in an imperious fashion. This couldn’t be good. “Sydney Julia Durand! Spill it now!”

  Startled by her use of my full name, I exclaimed, “Since when have you been channeling Kate?” My mother didn’t even pull that type of stunt anymore. I was thirty-four years old, for heaven’s sake.

  “Spill!”

  “I…possibly provoked Sam to throw a bit of a tantrum the other day while airing my concerns about the quality of the food in the school cafeteria.”

  “Your neuroses know no bounds,” she remarked drily. “But how exactly did this set Sam on edge? She’s usually a pretty laid back kid.”

  “Well, she became addicted to chicken nuggets last year.” Her pause let me know she was waiting for the rest of my explanation. “And she may have heard me tell her mother the nuggets might contain other, less pure parts of the chicken…you know, like, um, their beaks and feet.”

  “You’re the worst aunt ever.”

  “I am not!” I cried indignantly. “Sam loves me! She was supposed to be playing outside with Luc, not sneaking into the kitchen to steal a snack!”

  “A likely story! You traumatized your poor niece right before starting first grade. Not your proudest moment.”

  I massaged my temple in irritation. “You’re pretty damn smug for someone who’s going to have to deal with ‘all this nonsense’—as you call it—pretty soon.”

  She gasped. “You’re hitting below the belt, Syd!”

  It was too late to turn back now. “Did you really think the baby was just going to stay snuggled up in your womb forever?”

  “I still have four months, which is plenty of time to figure everything out.”

  The lingering doubt in her voice sent me down a shame spiral. (Was that Clueless reference too obscure? Cher Horowitz had quite the way with words.)

  Sixteen years of friendship had taught me Maya was a total hardass, but she was there for me whenever I needed her. From holding my hair back during my first drinking binge our freshman year in college to kicking my butt into gear when I almost ran from the love of my life, she had put up with all of my absurd antics. Though she came in an extremely prickly package, she was a true gem.

  “I’m sorry, Maya.” A lump formed in my throat. “This was harder than I thought it was going to be.”

  “Shocker! You’ve always handled things so well.”

  Subtlety had never been her strong suit.

  I cracked a smile. “Thanks, Maya.”

  “Whatever, Syd.” I heard a small sniffle at the other end of the line. Pregnancy hormones were wreaking havoc with Maya’s signature snark. I thanked my lucky stars we hadn’t been video chatting when this surge of emotion overtook her. She never would have forgiven me if I had seen her shed actual tears.

  “Do you need anything? How’s the morning sickness?”

  “Everything’s fine. I have to go.” Her thick voice clearly indicated everything was not fine, but I knew better than to protest.

  “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Laters.” The loud click informed me the hang-up bandit had struck again.

  I stared at the phone for a moment, contemplating what Maya would be like as a mother, when a series of belligerent dings erupted from my laptop. I quickly hung up the phone and headed over to our home office to start my work day.

  I scrolled through my email, searching for the source of the fire. Son of a bitch! My most persistent employee, Lyndsey
—otherwise known as my nemesis—had put in a request to have me assist with her latest recruitment. As the newly appointed human resources manager for a mid-sized biotech firm, this particularly difficult task had been taken off my plate and relegated to our poor, unsuspecting human resources representative. However, given Lyndsey’s “level of comfort with my relative competence,” she had requested my help one last time.

  If it hadn’t been for the fact that I had the best boss in the entire world (one who would allow me to telecommute on the first day of kindergarten so I could fall apart in the privacy of my own home), I would have told Lyndsey where she could go. Okay, I would have imagined telling her where she could go, because such behavior from the peacekeepers of the company was severely frowned upon. Stupid corporate policies! Some people could use a little disrespect from time to time.

  I sighed deeply, acknowledged my idiocy and put my diplomatic crown back in place. Vivian—otherwise known as boss extraordinaire—was counting on me.

  After crafting what could only be described as an email of epic tactful proportions, I perused my to-do list for the long day stretching in front of me. With my Lyndsey-focused rage in check, the worry I had for my son’s first day at a new school returned in full force. My heart rate increased as I wondered how he would find his classroom all by himself. My palms began to sweat while I thought of his beautiful blue eyes welling up with tears when he realized how much he missed his mommy. My mind raced with possibilities of everything from the bus crashing to a lice infestation as a welcome to the new school year. Maya wasn’t joking when she said my neuroses knew no bounds.

  I glanced up at the clock, hoping at least thirty minutes of this day from hell had passed. My heart sank the instant my eyes settled on those blasted iron hands. Luc had been gone for exactly fifteen minutes. He probably wasn’t even on the bus yet. This did not bode well.

  The shrill notes of the phone knocked me out of my stupor. Saved by the bell from another spiral of lunacy! At least for the present moment.

  The enormous frog in my throat made answering far more difficult than I had anticipated. My hello came out as a cross between a grunt and a cough. Either way, it was unintelligible.

  A gruff voice responded, “Is that you, Duck?”

  His special nickname for me helped ease my heartache. “Yes, Dad. It’s me.”

  “Is our fine young man on his way to his first taste of higher education?”

  “I think so. Louis hasn’t come back yet, but he promised Luc he would wave until the bus was ‘a tiny speck’—Luc’s words—before coming back to the house.”

  “Why didn’t you go with them? I’m surprised you weren’t there, documenting his every move with your cutting-edge camera phone.” Leave it to my dad to mock both my love of photos and Louis’ love of technology in the same breath. He was a true master of ridicule.

  “You know why, Dad.”

  “Oy vey! You’ve come such a long way, Duck. I think you could’ve handled it. Besides, your wacky neighbor would have put you to shame with her conspiracy theories.”

  I giggled. “She is pretty crazy.” With a wide range of notions ranging from her insistence that Harry Potter was the devil’s messenger to Oreos as a gateway drug, she supplied the neighborhood with enough gossip to prevent them from noticing my minor idiosyncrasies.

  “Consider it a rite of passage. Your sister went through the same thing last year! And your brother just went through it this morning. Your mother is still over there holding his hand.”

  Silly man. She just wanted to have a front row seat when Ginny got off the bus. Mom always wanted a fresh rundown—and the best photos. Along with her beautiful brown eyes, I inherited her love for amateur photography.

  I chuckled. “He only got a jump on me because of his east coast time zone.”

  “He’s your older brother. Let him share his wisdom with you—even if it’s only with a three hour lead time.” He sighed loudly. “You know, you can always move back home so you can compete in earnest. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about the safety of my grandson.”

  Here we go again. Dad’s status as a hardcore New Yorker often lead him to fabricate theories to lure his wayward daughters back from the “wrong” coast.

  “Dad! California isn’t going to fall into the ocean!”

  “You know, there have been some new reports indicating the ground is, in fact, eroding at an alarming rate.”

  “I question the validity of your sources, old man.” It was time to pull out my special nickname for him. “And you know Silicon Valley is the best place for Louis to further his career in software development. I’m in no mood to debate this again, especially today—” I paused, realizing my mistake. “You’re joking.”

  He laughed boisterously. “Gets you every time, Duck.”

  I threw back my head, joining in his laughter. “It sure does. Why don’t I ever learn?”

  “I hope you never do, Syd. Life would be far less exciting if I couldn’t push your buttons.”

  “Perish the thought.”

  A trace of laughter still in his voice, he said, “I love you, Syd.”

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  “Don’t forget to call your mother to give her the full report, okay?”

  “I won’t.” I hesitated, trying to find the right words to express my gratitude. “Thank you, Dad. You always know just what to say.”

  “Anytime, my darling.”

  I hung up the phone just as Louis walked through the door, a triumphant smile on his face.

  “He’s on his way!”

  Unable to find any joy from his statement, I wrapped my arms around my husband, a fresh wave of tears threatening to stain his perfectly starched shirt.

  Louis kissed the top of my head. “He’s going to be fine, mon coeur.”

  “I know,” I whispered, not quite believing him.

  “I would have been back a lot sooner, but Natasha had a list of directives to go over with the bus driver. The poor man looked like his head was going to explode.”

  I felt my fear lessen slightly. “Thank you for keeping me at home, Bluey. I can only imagine the damage I would have done…”

  “You’re nowhere near her league!” He twirled a lock of my wavy brown hair around his finger while formulating his argument. “We both know you’re only mildly obsessive. I consider it part of your charm.”

  “You’re hilarious.”

  “That’s part of my charm.”

  I paused, a slow smile spreading across my face. “How did I get so lucky to score a husband like you?”

  Serious eyes met mine. “I knew the moment I saw you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “You don’t say! Ignoring me for the better part of an hour was an interesting tactic to take.”

  “Years of experience lead me to realize playing hard to get was a rather effective tactic.”

  “Surely you jest.”

  “I never joke about women. Especially not my incredible wife.”

  “I wish I felt incredible.” I rested my head against his chest. “I’m currently in the depths of despair.”

  “Uh oh. If you’re already throwing out Anne of Green Gables references then we’re in a bad place.”

  I peered up at him. “Don’t worry. I have a meeting with Lyndsey later, which means I’ll be so distracted by imagining ways to eject her from the company, I won’t have time to be sad.”

  “As fascinating as that sounds, I have a much better idea.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. Louis’ plans could be really good or really bad. Either way, whatever he had in mind would be memorable.

  His serious eyes turned seductive as he ran his hands down my body. “Come with me, mon coeur. We may as well take advantage of having the house all to ourselves.”

  This day just got a lot more interesting.

  “Don’t you have to get to work?”

  “I have the morning off.” He nuzzled my neck, persisting until my knees buckl
ed.

  “Bluey…” I panted. Driving his wife from the depths of despair to quivering with lust in under thirty seconds? The man was a genius.

  Sensing his victory, Louis swept me off my feet and carried me into our bedroom. I had no doubt my mind would be otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future.

  An hour later, I begrudgingly got dressed in preparation for our weekly staff meeting. Somehow I didn’t think the mandated video chat would have been brightened by my R2-D2 pajamas. As cool as they were, they didn’t quite fit with the company’s business casual dress code.

  Louis pulled me in for one last kiss before we abandoned our blissful cocoon in favor of the corporate ladder. “Are you feeling any better, Syd?”

  I blushed. “Much better.”

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

  I laughed at his subpar Scrubs reference. “Even if you shaved your head, you wouldn’t be as cool as Christopher Turk.”

  Louis patted his well-crafted spikes. “This head was not meant to be bald.”

  I tossed a wink over my shoulder and headed to the kitchen. If I was going to make it through the lengthy agenda Vivian had in store for us, I was going to need some serious caffeine.

  Mug in hand, I sat down at my desk to find an email from Luc’s teacher. Already? What could possibly have happened in the last hour?

  I had met Ms. Nelson the week before and had made quite an impression during the brief time I spent with her. I managed to speak at least eighty words per minute for five minutes straight, slowing down only when I noticed the looks I was getting from the other parents. I was fairly certain Ms. Nelson marked me as “one to keep an eye on” in her black book of parents. Not that I hadn’t been in such a position before, but I was hoping to have passed out of this stage at this point in my life. Oh, well! Back to the drawing board.

  I quickly clicked open the message to find a lovely note and, wait, did she include a photo?! I enlarged the shot and found myself gazing into my son’s face once more. He was holding his favorite book, Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss, and grinning from ear to ear. He looked deliriously happy.

  I smiled back at him, the last of my trepidation melting from the vision of his bravery. There was no denying it. My baby was growing up. Now if only I could follow suit.