Free Rue Toulouse by Debby Grahl

was telling you about—Remi—he’ll be helping me do the job. You’ll get to meet him then.”
    Not if I can help it, Caterine thought as she followed Paul from the room.
     
    Caterine entered the front parlor of the Doucette Audubon Place mansion as her Uncle Jules was handing around the family’s before-dinner cocktails. Just turning sixty, of medium height with silver flecks throughout his chestnut hair, he was still a handsome man.
    “There you are, Caterine,” Miss Dauphine said, seated in her customary high-backed brocade chair to the right of the Adams fireplace. “I was concerned you wouldn’t be joining us.”
    As Jules handed his mother a glass of sherry, he turned to face Caterine. In a slow cultured drawl he admonished, “Mother said you were at Ma Chérie. On a Sunday.” He shook his head. “Caterine, I swear you’re working way too hard. You’re spending more time there than is good for you. I’m sure your Aunt Frances or Aunt Hyacinth would be willing to take some of your burden. Now, what can I get you to drink?”
    “I’ll have a glass of Cabernet, thanks,” Caterine replied, taking a seat on a deep-rose settee. As she waited for her wine, Caterine inwardly sighed with pleasure at the well-appointed room. Rose and cream moiré drapes were pulled back from floor-to-ceiling French windows that looked out on the wide veranda. A Baccarat chandelier cast a warm glow over the empire-style furnishings arranged upon a thick Aubusson rug of rose, cream, and soft blue.
    “Jules is right, Miss Dauphine. As Hyacinth and I have been saying, we’d be happy to take on more responsibility,” Frances said, accepting a gin and tonic from her husband. “And since someday Charlotte will be the head of Ma Chérie, it’s important that she learns more about the store. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”
    Caterine glanced from Frances to her cousin Charlotte, who fidgeted in her seat and looked at her watch. “Yes, Mother, certainly.”
    “I’ve always wanted to learn more about the business,” Paulette added. “It all sounds so fascinating.”
    Hyacinth turned her large ice-blue eyes toward Caterine. “I’m sure you’d be happy to teach Paulette anything she needed to know, wouldn’t you?”
    Not waiting for Caterine to reply, Paulette clapped her chubby little hands. “Oh, that would be wonderful. I can’t wait to begin.”
    Paulette’s mood swings always amazed Caterine. One minute she was all sugary sweetness, the next bitter venom. A few months earlier, days before their wedding, Paulette’s fiancé, Travis Jenkins, had broken their engagement. Since then, Paulette’s venom had surfaced more and more frequently.
    Caterine silently shook her head. How Bobby, with his even-tempered pleasant disposition, could be Paulette’s younger brother amazed her.
    “Miss Dauphine, I hope you’ve had a chance to think over the ideas we talked about earlier,” Frances said. “I understand tradition is important, but it’s time for Ma Chérie to leave the nineteenth century and advance forward with fresh new concepts.”
    “Absolutely,” Hyacinth agreed. “Ma Chérie’s clothing is too stuffy. We really need to liven up our line and make it more fun and affordable. Like the clothing I make for myself and Paulette.”
    Caterine peered over the top of her wineglass, waiting for her grandmother’s reaction. She knew the only reason they were having this conversation was that her aunts were hoping to gain their husbands’ support.
    Miss Dauphine’s dark eyes went from Hyacinth to Frances. She cleared her throat. “I will say this one last time, then this nonsense will cease. Ma Chérie’s clothing has always been, and shall always be, elegant and chic. This is the standard our clientele expects, and this is what our clientele will receive. To do otherwise would be unacceptable not only to me, but to those who have patronized the salon for over a century. There are plenty of other clothing