A Second Chance

“And the linens, china, flatware and crystal. If people are paying fifty bucks a plate, I figure they shouldn’t have to eat off paper plates.”

“Excellent. You’ve thought of everything. How did you get to be so good at event planning?”

“Hanging out at hotels all my life. Watching and learning.”

“If you ever need a job…” She stopped, realizing what she was about to say.

“Don’t worry, I don’t expect the family to employ me once my probation is up.”

“Don’t rule out the possibility.”

Luc didn’t believe in a million years that his Aunt Anne or Cousin Charlotte, kind as they were, would want him back at the Hotel Marchand. Not after what he’d done.

They heard laughter coming from up in the balconies and realized they weren’t alone. Melanie’s eyebrows flew up. “Is the opera house haunted?”

Luc grinned. “You don’t recognize the laughter?”

“No, why should I? I don’t know anyone in-” Then it hit her. “That was Celeste? That giggle?”

“I think you’ll be surprised what love has done for our Grand-mere.”

They walked up the narrow stairs with the threadbare carpet to the gallery that surrounded the auditorium. The walls had been draped with luxurious silks and velvets in deep, rich colors, and Celeste and Doc were busy hanging the photographs Celeste had brought with her from New Orleans.

Although the opera house was in poor repair, enough funds had been raised to patch the roof, damaged during the hurricane, so the photos and artifacts would remain dry.

Celeste turned at the sound of the creaky stairs, and her face lit up with the sweetest of smiles. “Melanie, mon petit chou, what a surprise. Did that husband of yours actually unchain you from the kitchen?”

The two women hugged. “Grand-mere, you know the kitchen is where I want to be most of the time.”

Celeste pulled away from the hug. “Melanie, I want you to meet someone. This is Dr. Michel Landry, a very old and very dear friend.”

“How do you do, Dr. Landry?” Melanie shook Doc’s hand, polite as could be, while her eyes searched his face for some sign of duplicity.

“My pleasure,” Doc said with a grin and a twinkle in his eye. “Now, you can call me Doc, everyone else does.”

Luc could see Melanie was immediately taken in by the older man’s charm and obvious sincerity. Celeste dragged her around, showing her the various photographs, proud that she was donating the future museum’s very first collection.

Doc, meanwhile, took Luc aside. “Any change in the status?”

“You mean with Loretta? No, she won’t return my calls. She didn’t even deliver any muffins this morning.”

“You can’t let her put you off forever. Take it from me, you don’t want to be an octogenarian, wondering what could have been.”

“I haven’t given up, if that’s what you’re thinking.” However long it took-another year, five years, ten-he would prove that he’d changed, that he was not like her first husband.

When he realized the direction his thoughts had just taken, he was so surprised his knees went weak. He lowered himself to a nearby folding chair so he could think it through without falling over.

He was in love with Loretta. There was no other explanation. If he was ready to spend the rest of his life in Indigo, proving he was worthy of her-that didn’t sound like a crush or infatuation or some passing fancy.

“Luc? You all right? Your face just went white.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be all right again. I’m afraid that woman has ruined me for good.”

Celeste and Melanie returned from their “museum tour,” chattering like a couple of teenagers making plans for a big Friday night. “C’mon, Luc,” Melanie said. “Up, up, up. I need to see Loretta’s cooking facilities. Where is she, anyway? I thought this dinner was her bailiwick.”

Celeste and Doc exchanged a worried look.

“I took it over,” Luc said. “Loretta has too many things to do.”

“But she’s still going to let me use her kitchen, right?”

Celeste took Melanie’s hand. “I’ll walk over to the bakery with you, dear. I believe Luc and Michel have some business to take care of.”

Luc shot his grandmother a grateful look. The last thing he wanted was to barge in on Loretta unannounced and have her go ballistic on him. Melanie didn’t even know Luc and Loretta had been together, much less that they’d split up. It still surprised him that Celeste didn’t use his disastrous romance as a platform to criticize him or compare him to his father. But she hadn’t made a single negative comment.

Love really was transformative, as Loretta had pointed out on their one and only date. He was certainly a different man from the one he’d been when he’d arrived in Indigo. He’d come here counting the months until he’d be free. Now his freedom meant little. He’d just as soon be tied down to Indigo forever. But what were the chances?

FOR THE FIRST TIME in weeks, Loretta was caught up. She had the vendors lined up for the music festival. They’d all signed the appropriate contracts and returned them to her. They’d finished wrangling over the size of their signs and the locations of their booths, and the fact the festival had an exclusive contract with one soft drink megacorporation and couldn’t serve drinks from the other.

She’d finished baking three pies of different varieties for tonight’s bingo game at the church. They only needed to be boxed up. She’d swept and mopped and polished everything in sight, and she had nothing left to do-except think about Luc.

She alternated between being furious with him, and then all weepy, though she somehow managed to hold herself together whenever a customer came in. One woman had walked out without buying anything after accusing Loretta of having a cold and spreading her germs all over the baked goods.

She was in her own kitchen in the house, washing dishes from last night, when she heard the bell on the bakery door jangle. She quickly dried her hands and hurried out, then stopped short when she saw Celeste Robichaux and Melanie Marchand.

Panic rose in her throat. What did they want?

She schooled her face to reveal no emotion. “May I help you?”

“Oh, Loretta, your bakery is absolutely adorable!” Melanie enthused, coming forward to squeeze Loretta’s cold hands. “I love how you built it onto the front of your house. How convenient, to just roll out of bed and right to work!”

“It is convenient,” Loretta said, warming slightly. It was hard to be cold around Melanie, since she was so friendly herself. And she was doing Loretta a heckuva favor. She would do well to remember that.

“I just came to check out your cooking facilities, for the dinner,” Melanie said, her gaze focused on the wood- burning stove, which dominated one corner of the bakery.

“Please, make yourself at home. Anything you need, it’s yours. And don’t hesitate if you need me to purchase anything special-long as it doesn’t break my budget.”

“Luc’s pretty much got everything covered.” Melanie could resist no longer. The oven drew her toward it. “Where did you get this fabulous oven?”

“My father and I built it. Well, mostly my dad, but I helped. The door is an antique we scavenged from a junkyard.”

“It’s absolutely awe-inspiring. No wonder your breads are so fantastic. I want to buy some before I leave.”

“Please, you can take whatever you want.”

Celeste hadn’t said a word. She’d seated herself at the scarred oak table and watched Loretta with curious, probing eyes.

Clearly Celeste knew what had happened between Loretta and Luc, but Melanie didn’t have a clue.

“Would you ladies like some tea?” Loretta asked. Her quarrel wasn’t with Luc’s grandmother or his cousin, after all.

“I’d love some,” Melanie said, just as Celeste issued a stern, “No, thank you.”