“I’m starving,” I said to Grace as I tried to look through the crowded lobby toward the Indian Room. The lavish dining room was famous in Jacksonville for its décor and menu. “I need to fortify myself for the dance this evening.”
Grace opened her leather bag and looked inside. “I have an article due to my editor tomorrow. I’d like to polish it before I wire it to him.”
“I don’t want to eat alone.”
“Then order room service and join me.”
Mama and Daddy had left the air show earlier that afternoon to board a train back to Washington, DC, and start looking for donors who might help save the orphanage. They had told us not to worry—but how could we not? I didn’t know two less selfish people, and they deserved all the help we could give them.
Which was why I was so excited about my idea.
“I don’t want room service,” I said, trying to see if my guest had arrived in the dining room. “I have a surprise for you.”
“I’ve had enough surprises lately.”
I took her by the arm. “Come with me. Please. I have someone meeting us in the dining room—and I want them to tell you about my plans.”
She studied me, a small frown on her forehead. Finally, she sighed. “I hope this isn’t something dangerous.”
I lifted my eyebrows as I led her toward the Indian Room.
As soon as we walked into the paneled room, I saw Luc at a table in the corner near a large potted fern, partially hidden from view.
“There he is.”
Grace paused—clearly not pleased to see Luc again. They had avoided each other all day at the air show.
“Hope...” she said, letting my name trail off.
“Come with me,” I pleaded. “I want you to hear what he has to say.”
She reluctantly followed me as the maître d’ led us to Luc’s table. A distinct Seminole Indian theme graced the room. Painted canoes hung from the ceiling, feather headdresses flanked the doorways, and peace pipes hung crisscrossed on the walls. I thought of the Abenaki Indians at war with the colonists in 1692and wondered what they would think of the Seminoles’ culture being reduced to restaurant décor.
When Luc saw us, he rose from the white linen–covered table and nodded at me with a smile. When his gaze slipped to Grace, it became guarded.
“Bonjour,” he said as he held out a chair for me while the maître d’held one out for Grace.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” I said anxiously. It would take a bit of convincing for Grace to agree to our proposition.
Grace said hello, but her voice was lost in the din of the room. The sounds of conversation, clinking silverware, and laughter filled the air.
The maître d’handed us menus and then bowed at the waist before leaving.
There was an awkward pause before Grace and Luc picked up their menus, busying themselves with perusing the options. I tapped my heeled boot impatiently on the wood floor. I couldn’t wait another moment.
“I have a plan to help Mama and Daddy,” I blurted.
Grace lowered her menu and looked over the top edge, her brown eyes filled with curiosity—and a little surprise.
Luc also lowered his menu, but he didn’t look curious or surprised. Perhaps he was used to my abruptness.
“The plan involves Luc,” I continued quickly, offering him a grateful smile. “That’s why I asked him to meet us here.” Since talking to him about my idea earlier today, he had already set the plan in motion.
Grace lowered her menu farther, laying it on the table, and glanced between me and Luc. She was clearly skeptical of this man—yet he was just as uncertain of her. He was probably wondering how much trouble she would cause my career—and him.
“What is the plan?” Grace asked as she folded her hands on the menu.
I licked my dry lips before I began. “It’s going to take a lot of work, but I know I can do it.”
