“Really.”
“Was it hard to fall in love with Regan?”
“No.” Dad expelled a breath. “I won’t lie to you. As much as I loved your mother and will always love your mother, I have never loved a woman the way I love Regan. She healed me. And she healed the two people I love more than anything.”
“Me and Eilidh,” I said gruffly.
“Aye.”
“But I could never forget Fran.” He reached over and tapped my chest. “Because she’s still here in you and Eilidh.”
“It sounds like she had a bit of recklessness in her, though.”
“Maybe. Aye.”
“I worry that’s where Eilidh gets it from.”
Dad nodded grimly. “I worry too. Your sister throws herself at life, sometimes without thinking of what she’s throwing herself at. She’s all bravado, you know. Her heart’s softer than anyone’s, and I worry that industry will change her.”
“Callie thinks she’ll find her way home.”
Concern creased Dad’s brows. “Let’s hope your fiancée is right.”
Our food arrived and as we dug in, I offered, “Thanks for telling me about Fran.”
“Anytime.”
“I … I’m not judging her. Just so you know. I don’t feel it’s my right since I never got to know her.”
Dad contemplated me. “You’re the best of men, Lewis. I am so proud to be your father. And Fran … you were her entire world. You should know that.”
Emotion clogged my throat and I nodded, unable to speak.
And so we ate in companionable silence while I contemplated everything he’d told me, promising myself that I owed Francine a visit. I hadn’t been to her grave in a long time, and I had so much I needed to tell her.
Thirty-Seven
CALLIE
Taylor Swift blared from the wireless speaker Bluetooth’d to my phone as Mum and I worked on the wedding cake she’d been commissioned to make for a wealthy client in Aberdeenshire. Usually, Mum only enlisted my help when the project was challenging. This was a six-tier wedding cake, each tier a different flavor, two types of sponge, and the fondant was to emulate rippling silk fabric. It would then be topped with a cascading arrangement of sugar flowers—peonies, roses, and lilies.
I was working on tier number three, a joconde sponge with Kirsch syrup and chocolate ganache. Basically, a wedding cake version of an opera cake. There was a skill to wrapping the fondant so it looked like draped fabric. Mum had shown me how and I’d practiced on rehearsal cakes before attempting the final thing. Mum was happy with my work, so now I was focused on the sugar flowers.
Although this wasn’t my area of expertise per se—and I loved my pastry making—there was something therapeutic about cake decorating.
Mum and I were lost in the zone.
Until Taylor was cut off by my ringtone.
We both winced at how loud it boomed through the speaker, and I hurried over to disconnect it. The screen told me it was a friend from Paris. Stephanie. She was the one who had introduced me to Gabriel.
“Steph!” I answered, happy to hear from her. “How are you?”
“Callie.” She pronounced my name likeCa-Lee. “I have sad news.”
It was only then I heard the sorrow in her voice. “What’s happened?”
“It is Gabriel. He’s gone, Callie. His body was found in a hotel in Portugal. They are calling it suspicious circumstances. It’s even made the news here in Paris. Something about corruption in the police department.”
