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  “Bebe would like to know if you wish her to move in or if you lead her on,” He said.

  Berne scowled.

  Erique grinned. “I thought this was so.” He walked over and handed her the phone. “For you.”

  She tutted at him, took a deep breath and put the phone to her ear. “He thinks he is amusing.”

  Pippa chuckled and Berne’s heart fluttered with it.

  “I adore you. Please, hurry up and move in?” Pippa’s voice chimed with happiness.

  Berne closed her eyes to savour each word. “But I have wardrobes and—”

  “Take whatever room you need. It’s your home too.” Pippa’s kind, soft tone filtered in, easing even the pain in her back. She’d said the same thing to Pippa when she had moved in with her. The apartment had been their apartment in her eyes. Now, the house would be their home.

  “Merci. I will call after dinner, oui?” Berne smiled.

  “Please, give your brother a hug?” Pippa said with a sigh. She sounded tired and happy.

  Berne poked Erique instead as she handed the phone back and he continued to make Pippa laugh for longer than was appropriate.

  Berne stared at her hands. She really wanted to talk to Pippa, to ask her... Finding the right moment was hard. Maybe Stephanie would know how she should approach it? It was something she would enjoy helping with.

  Erique let out a chuckle as Pippa laughed in the background once more.

  He hung up and cocked his head. “She is charming, why do you scowl?” He mimicked her frown. “You worry over me now?”

  She rubbed at her forehead. She hadn’t even realised she’d been frowning. “Non, I am deep in thought. You flirt with Stephanie a lot also. She giggles.”

  He grinned. “She giggles more when I get her drunk, oui?”

  “So you were lovers?” Why had Stephanie said no?

  Erique sighed a wistful sigh. “If only. I try before she dates her... mais... she wished for more.”

  “More?” Berne rubbed at her forehead again. It ached.

  “If I was to seduce her. I was to want marriage.” He pocketed his phone. “She wanted her children to have a stable home.”

  “Why didn’t you marry her?” It was clear he held great affection for her.

  “I was a fool.” He shrugged. “Then that woman breaks her heart and...” He sighed. “She needs more than I can give.” He swigged back his drink. “She deserves someone who will be there to cherish her. I work. It is what I know.”

  “And you do not wish for her to worry while you work?” Berne could understand how he felt with this. It was very dangerous. He cared enough to remain single.

  “Oui.” He got to his feet, shaking off his legs. “Now, where are your things?” He put his hands on his hips when she shrugged. “Bebe, I move you in. Then, I help you with the jobs.” He wagged his finger at her. “You need to finish your sculptures and you need help.”

  She could not deny it. She could not move without pain.

  “Stephanie has nothing.” She swallowed back her worry over telling him. “Emilie vandalises her house, fires her from the company.”

  “Pardon?” He scowled at her.

  “Babs says that her lawyers will deal with it.” She hoped he would help. He would do it discreetly, she knew he would. “Only the workers follow Emilie because of her name.”

  “I cannot help unless Stephanie reports this crime.” He perched on the arm of the couch, focus on her—His inner gendarme pouring through. “But I will keep an eye on the house from now on.”

  “Babs sends her to Wales.” She chewed on her lip. “It is better she have somewhere to forget Emilie.”

  “It will be better for her,” he said leaning forward, seriousness in his eyes. “Emilie knows why she loves the house?”

  She frowned, then shrugged then sighed. “I do not know. I thought I knew her.”

  “Better she is rid of that...” He let out a grunt. “...and I will help you with your work.” He squeezed her shoulder and helped her up. “It is what a big brother is for, oui?”

  Berne slid into a hug. “Merci, I have been worried over it.”

  “I am not surprised.” He beamed at her. “So where to begin?”

  “The local jobs,” she said, feeling a renewed sense of energy.

  “It helps you forget her saying how much she loves you.” He shuddered. “I do not understand what Stephanie sees.”

  “It feels uncomfortable that Emilie says this, that she acts this way,” she muttered. “It hurts to know this is what splits them apart.”

  He helped her out of the front door and sat her on a lounge chair—one Pippa often sat in. It was only a chair yet it gave her a sense of comfort.

  “Stephanie will find the one who makes her heart fill with happiness.” He nodded, his smile charming, his eyes twinkling. He was such a kind man. “This is better. She will find love, you will see.”

  “You really cannot give Stephanie happiness?” Berne was sure if he tried, he could. He knew her inside out.

  “Not the kind she deserves.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I know myself enough to understand I will only break her heart as she has done.”

  Berne watched him stride off to his truck. He would make quick work of moving her things. He was already on the phone, no doubt calling in help.

  She sighed and pulled out her wallet. She kept a picture of Pippa from when they were young in there, from the day that Babs “married” them on the beach. She only hoped Stephanie would find a love as wonderful.

  Chapter 30

  Considering we were meant to have Stephanie and Fabrice working with us and Babs was meant to find us a work force, I hadn’t actually seen anyone but Rebecca. Had she told Doug? Because although Rebecca and I had done a lot, we needed to do much, much more to get it ready.

  Doug had been busy in work so I’d met him at the gates for our wedding jaunt. So far we’d been to the cake shop, the woman doing the place cards, and the registrar’s office.

  Doug wouldn’t let me into the meeting with the registrar, so I’d had to amuse myself by annoying the receptionist—She didn’t look at all happy that I had discovered the Lego set in the corner. It was fun, what was the issue?

  We’d been to the caterers, and visited some person who made ice sculptures, and I was starting to wonder if Doug was marrying me and just wasn’t telling me.

  “So why can’t Marie make any of this?” I asked as we wandered about the showroom—Wedding car hire this time. “I admire her faith in you but I wouldn’t be very happy with an ex-fiancé being involved.”

  “She... um...” He pursed his lips. “She... doesn’t know that you’re my ex-fiancé. Yes, that’s right.” He stared at a long limo—bright pink—I hoped it was just in disgust.

  “Doug, I think you’ll come unstuck rather quickly with that one.” I eyed him, urging him away from the pink thing. “Your mother still calls me asking me to forget Brandy and take you back.”

  He stopped and looked at me. “Still? I told her you were with another woman.”

  “Yes,” I said, trying to hide my smile. “She offered for Berne to be my mistress and keep my spirits up.” I was exasperated, if not chuffed that Doug’s mum thought so highly of me. “As long as I give you children, she was happy.”

  He rolled his eyes. “She misses you.”

  “I miss her too.” I bumped his shoulder. “She hasn’t mentioned Marie though.”

  He tensed. His eyes wide with alarm. “She... I... we... haven’t gotten around to telling her yet.” He swallowed so hard I could see his throat flex. “It’s... a surprise?”

  “Doug, she’ll be more than surprised when you turn up to Sunday lunch with a wife and baby... not forgetting her in-laws?” I checked inside one of the grander cars. There was nowhere near enough room for a wedding dress plus train. “What’s wrong with Marie?”

  He sighed. “She’s not you?”

  I wrapped my arms around him. “Neither was Brandy but you
didn’t seem to mind much.”

  He laughed. “Touché.”

  “So, what kind of car is she looking for?” I motioned to the selection. “What style?”

  “I don’t know.” He tapped the one I’d just been checking out. “Does it matter?”

  “To me, not so much, to most women, yes.” I poked him. “Doug, women do like it if you pay attention.”

  “I try.” He pursed his lips again. “They go on about women’s things.” He tutted and straightened out his shirt. “They fuss.”

  “Yes, we do. Same as you droned on about golf and showed me your trophies.” I hadn’t missed pretending I cared if someone had a birdie—I assumed it was a good thing and not that they all went shopping for pets but who knew?

  “You never complained about my trophies as I recall.” He stuck out his chin. “I didn’t hear any protests.”

  “I meant your actual trophies... for golf.” I shook my head at him.

  “Oh.” He straightened his tie. “That’s alright then.”

  “I’m with her because I love her, not because you did anything wrong.” I squeezed his arm. “You have the honour of being the only man who ever showed me his trophies.”

  He gave me a squeeze. “Thank you for saying it.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, ring Marie and ask her what she wants.” I sighed as he raised his eyebrows. “Cars, man. Focus.”

  “Oh right.” He swallowed so much his Adam’s apple jumped. “Can’t you just pick one?”

  “No.”

  He pulled out his phone, scrolling through it and then stopped, looking at me.

  “Call her or I will.”

  He frowned. “You weren’t this bossy when we were together.” He pressed call.

  “Think of how lucky an escape you had then.” I wandered over to a cranky old wreck at the back. I ran my hand over it. It needed love. If I was getting married, it would be the car I’d want to travel in. It had a wide step as a grand old car should, a long bonnet that flowed with a regal line right through to the boot. It spoke of when cars were about feeling a touch of luxury and enjoying the journey, not hurtling from A-to-B as cheaply as possible.

  “Hi,” Doug said, polite and stilted. “Pippa and I are choosing cars. She would like to know what style is preferred?”

  I stared at him. “Doug, you sleep with the woman. Why are you talking to her like she’s your secretary?”

  He put his hand over his mouthpiece. “It’s... um... her secretary.”

  “Oh. Explains.” She was so busy she didn’t even take his calls directly? Even Babs answered Rebecca’s calls and she was... well... a dynamo.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” he said in his most charming tone. “Pippa wants to know what kind of style you’re looking for?”

  I could hear a smooth burr—she was turning it on more for him. I smiled as his cheeks flushed with colour.

  “And the car?” He asked, loosening his tie.

  I took the phone off him. “Bonjour, Marie.” If she carried on purring, Doug would faint. I knew he would. “Doug is dribbling right now so I’m helping out.”

  “I hear much of you,” came the husky, thick, deep tone. I raised my eyebrows. Only Berne used that kind of tone with me.

  “Well... yes... um...” I cleared my throat. “What kind of car do you have in mind?”

  I watched Doug concentrate on the car. He was trying to calm himself down. Poor man had no chance by the look of it.

  Marie hummed into the mouthpiece. “What do you think would make my heart soar?”

  I stared at the phone. Was she flirting with me? I sighed. What was new? Another French person trying to make me quiver.

  “Apart from the hunk waiting to marry you, I have no clue.” I hoped that would calm her teasing. “Do you like old cars or new cars?”

  I could cope. I’d had Berne, Babs and Stephanie to toughen me up.

  “I like spirit, for it to fill me with joy and make me feel special.”

  I stared at the phone. From a car? In all fairness Stephanie had made condiments sound a bit like that and Babs made everything sound like it. Maybe it was a French thing? They sounded very familiar when you first met them anyway. It took a good while to place individual voices. I could have sworn I’d heard Marie’s voice before.

  Ah well.

  Spirit, joy and made her feel special? hmmm. “I think I’ve spotted the perfect one.” I smiled at the shiny, super luxurious one at the front of the showroom. “Will you be visiting soon?”

  “Oui, there is much to do here. I very much look forward to meeting you. Doug often says how important you are to him.” She sounded very sure of that and like I’d need to hide behind Berne when we met her.

  “Yes, well, he’s a simple man who needs help.” I winked at him. He was still jittery. He gripped the handle of one car. Oh no. “Doug, it opens—”

  He smacked himself, somewhere rather painful, and yelped.

  “...the other way.” I winced. “Doug’s found an opening so he’ll call you later.” I hung up and hurried over. Doug bent over at the waist, puffing. “Older cars open the other way sometimes.”

  “Quite,” he squeaked. He had tears in his eyes.

  “Good thing she’s already pregnant, huh?” I led him over to a chair and sat him down.

  “Funny,” he wheezed out. “What did she say?”

  “I think she’ll probably want the posh one in the front.” I pointed at it.

  “You don’t like that one?” He blinked away the tears. “I can tell, you know.”

  I smiled. “I like that one.”

  He followed my finger and rubbed at his thigh. I don’t know why he thought that would help. “Thought so. Why don’t we have that as the bridesmaids car?”

  “How many does she have?” I rubbed my hand over my face. If I had to run around for them too, I was quitting.

  “She has lots of family.” He smiled up at me, tears still brimming. “So we’ll have that one.”

  “It needs a lot of work,” I mumbled.

  “So I’ll hire someone to do it.” He held up his finger. “But not you or Fabrice. You both have work to do.”

  “How have you met Fabrice?” I frowned. “I haven’t seen either of them.”

  Doug closed his eyes, taking slow breaths. “I sent them on a plastering and rendering course.”

  “You did?” Why hadn’t anyone told me?

  “Yes, Babs said that she wanted people she trusted.” He opened his eyes and got up. “I wasn’t going to argue.”

  “Marie sounds as bossy.” How could I describe Marie? I smiled. “She sounds very... sensual.”

  Very diplomatic. Go, me.

  “She’s winding you up. I told her you’re soft on French people.” He smiled. “She has an odd sense of humour sometimes.”

  “Please don’t tell me you told her that?” It was bad enough that he’d always said to me, “baby, you’re an odd one.” Even if he was right, I doubted other women would like it very much.

  “I did. She laughed at me. Said it was a reflection on me then.” He shook himself off. “She launches into French when she gets excited. Haven’t got the foggiest what she’s on about.”

  “They do that. Wait until you see her drunk.” I chuckled. “Then they make no sense whatsoever.”

  “I didn’t think Berne was much of a drinker?” His phone buzzed and he read the message. “She says you sound like you have it under control. Your choice.”

  Showed how little Marie knew then. “Babs got drunk,” I said as he looked at me, waiting for an answer. “She had a reason.”

  “What was that?” He led me over to the man on the desk.

  “She was trying to get me drunk so I’d tell Berne I fancied her... when we were younger.” Looking back, Berne must have been wise to it and in true honourable fashion had replaced each wine with a squash so Babs got hammered and I was sober.

  “Did it work?” He asked, placing his business card on the desk. It would save introduct
ions. The man riveted his gaze to it, then ran his gaze over Doug and I, then wheezed out a breath.

  “No.” I smiled up at him. “However Babs said she loved us, a lot.”

  “How can I help you, Mr Fletcher?” The man found his voice. Well, if you counted squeaking.

  Doug motioned to our choices and smiled at me, kissing me on the forehead as the man checked his computer. “I’m glad she respects you.”

  “Me too.” I gazed up at him. “Do you really love her?”

  He glanced at the man who looked like he may strangle his computer. “Sorry, Mr Fletcher. The system is slow.”

  I pulled Doug to look at me. “Do you?”

  “I feel something. She’s not you. I knew I loved you.” He smiled at me. “But when she got out of the car, something inside glowed into life again. She’s beautiful, smart, a bit confusing...” He smiled. “There’s this air around her. I can’t explain it but she makes me want to know more.”

  “Sounds like love but enough for marriage?” I worried. He knew that. I didn’t want it to be too soon for him.

  “No.” He kissed me on the head again, glancing at the man sweating over his computer. Doug was not patient in business. “She is pregnant and it’s my child.” He met my eyes. “I think there is potential for us to be something special.”

  “So why not wait?” I whispered. “You don’t have to marry every woman you get pregnant.”

  “I know. I want to marry her.” He eyed the man again who looked ready to throttle his screen. “I had to convince her, you know. She wasn’t just going to settle down without feeling we could be happy.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” I squeezed him.

  The man got up, abandoning his computer. “Why don’t you show me which one you’d like and we’ll contact you if it’s not available?”

  Doug held his gaze. “How about we pick one you won’t have that trouble with?” He pointed to the hunk of junk I liked.

  “But, Mr Fletcher, it’s no longer running.” His cheeks flushed, his face flushed and his brow shiny.

  “But sweetheart, I love that one,” I said, wrapping my arms around Doug’s waist. “Can’t we fix it?”