“I kid, I kid,” I say with a smile.
“We met at a coffee shop in a bookstore in Sartène,” Fabien supplies. “I’d stopped for a break and was doing a bit of reading.”
“Ah. Fabien, I didn’t know you could read,” Thayer says from a few seats down.
He grunts. “Books, Thayer, and people and relationships and rooms. I’m pretty damn literate.”
His brother snorts. He turns to me. “Your French is perfect, Nicolette, but you’re not from around here.”
“I’m not,” I say. “I’m American.”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to travel to America,” Avril says. “Fabien, we should go.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “We should.” He sips from his beer as he pinches my knee under the table. One tap, then two. I look over at him to see him staring at the doorway. A guy that looks like creepy Chance but a little older and less ape-like enters the room.
He’s the cousin we need to talk to. I give Fabien a little nod.
I want to do my research. I don’t know enough about what we’re doing to really begin to prepare, but I know our time is limited and we’re basically under a microscope.
Fabien leans over and whispers in my ear, “He will talk to me if I pay him, but he’s a lot more likely to give you information than me. With our combined efforts, we’ll get what we need.”
“From where does your family come?” his grandmother asks as she stares at me.
“Chicago.”
“And are they good stock?”
“Maman,” Avril groans. “How do you tell good stock?”
“You know when you see it.”
Avril shakes her head. “Please.Stop.”
“No.”
I don’t want Fabien or Avril to worry about me. “I’m not sure how you define good stock, but both of my parents are dead, so unfortunately you won’t be able to see them to judge for yourself.”
Fabien brushes his thumb across my thigh. I shiver.
Music begins to play, and couples get up from the table to head to the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” Fabien says.
“Are you asking me?”
“No,” he says in my ear. “Telling you. Dance with me. We’ll head over to my cousin and get what we need.” He turns to face his grandmother. “And Grand-mère, you let Maman marry a peasant, and didn’t stop her, so I’m sure you have it somewhere in you to grant a boon to someone regardless of theirstock.”
She grumbles as we take our leave from the table. Avril wiggles her fingers at us.
“Enchantée,” I say to her as we leave. I notice Chance giving me a curious look and the man next to him?—
I do a double take.
“Fabien,” I whisper. “Don’t look now, but who’s that guy sitting next to Chance?”
“His father, my uncle.”
Oh, Lord. I’ve seen him before on the evening news. I find the news typically affects my ability to sleep, so I rarely watch it, but the local tavern had it on one evening when the girls and I went out for a drink there.
