Free Rue Toulouse by Debby Grahl Page A

establishments that cater to people with your taste, Hyacinth.”
    Bravo, Grandmère. Caterine silently applauded. Her attention was drawn to her uncle Markus, whose low nervous chuckle filled the quiet room.
    “Now, ladies,” he drawled, “you can discuss Ma Chérie business all you wish later, but here’s Flora announcing dinner and I’m ready to eat.” He rose to his feet. “Mother, may I escort you in?”
    As they all stood, Caterine noticed the lines creasing Markus’ brow and the dark circles under his eyes. His efforts to keep up with his young nephew Randal seemed to be taking a toll.
    “Jules, where are Raymond and Randal?” Frances snapped, clearly furious over Miss Dauphine’s rebuke. “I thought you said they’d both be here for dinner.”
    Jules put his arm around his wife. “They must have gotten delayed. The boys are grown men with lives of their own. You have to stop fussing over them.”
    Delayed, all right, Caterine thought, trailing the others from the room, at the casino or in some whorehouse.

Chapter Nine

    The following morning, Caterine sat in her office nervously tapping her fingers, trying to hold back the panic that threatened to overtake her. Her eyes were glued to the digital clock sitting on her polished cherrywood desk, watching anxiously as the time changed from 8:45 to 8:46, and her aunts still weren’t there. Paul, with Remi in tow, was due to arrive at nine o’clock to install the new alarms.
    Why didn’t I give Paul a key so he could let himself in? The digital display now said 8:52, and, for the first time in her life, she was ecstatic to hear the sound of her aunts’ voices as they came through the front door. A sigh of relief had no sooner left her lips when Paul’s voice had her moving. She grabbed her bag and was halfway out the back door when she heard her Aunt Frances calling her name.
     
    A few hours later, Caterine hurried across Jackson Square and entered Le Tea Pot’s hot-pink front door as the St. Louis Cathedral’s bells chimed the hour. Directed to the courtyard, Caterine found Elaine ensconced at a corner table, flanked by two tall potted plants.
    “Hi. Have you been here long?” Caterine asked, gratefully taking her seat.
    “Long enough to order a Bloody Mary. You look as if you could use one yourself.”
    “You have no idea how much.” Caterine caught the waitress’ eye and pointed at Elaine’s drink.
    “Before you tell me all the juicy details of how you ended up with Remi in my arbor, I’ve been dying to hear how you avoided being seen by him this morning.” Elaine cocked her head. “Or did you?”
    “Yes, I did, and it was a real nightmare. This is turning into some farcical TV sitcom. I had to tell my aunts I needed them to come in early because I had an appointment, which I did, but not until ten o’clock. They got there seconds before Paul and Remi came through the front door. I literally was running out the back as they came in the front. And you can stop laughing. This situation isn’t funny.”
    “Oh, but it is.” Elaine doubled over in laughter.
    “Stop that,” Caterine demanded, but her own lips were twitching.
    “Okay, I’ll quit.” Elaine wiped her eyes. “But I still don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about seeing Remi again. Besides, how are you going to keep from running into him here in the Quarter?”
    Caterine shrugged. “I’ll have to deal with that if it happens. Now do you want to hear where I’ve been? And what my grandmère has done?”
    “No.” Elaine gasped when she’d finished. “You now are the sole owner of Ma Chérie?”
    She nodded. “That’s right. Grandmère is going to tell the family tonight after dinner.”
    “I can’t believe this. You owning Ma Chérie. How wonderful.” Suddenly Elaine’s exuberance left her face. “Oh God, Caterine, your family is going to throw a fit when they hear this.”
    “No kidding. I wish I could let Grandmère tell them on her own, but