"What?" She looked at him with horror.
"Well, I ran out of Kleenex, and you insisted on so many for the cars, I started using toilet tissue. I don't think it will make much difference. Tissue is tissue, right? Besides, you weren't there to ask. You were working late as usual." He turned to Bastien and explained, "She's been working late a lot lately, trying to do Chris's work as well as her own."
Bastien raised an eyebrow, but Kate just made a face. "I'm not doing C.K.'s work. Chris is editing his own writers, and I'm editing mine. It's just that he's going away to the California writers conference today, and I'll be fielding any emergencies that arise while he's gone. I've been trying to get ahead on my editing so that I don't fall behind if anything crops up, if you see what I mean."
Bastien nodded in understanding, then returned the conversation to the subject it had started on. "So your maid of honor is coming two weeks early. She should be arriving soon, then. Where is she staying?"
"Ah." Kate looked uncomfortable, then blew out a breath on a sigh. "Actually, that's the favor I wanted to ask," she admitted. "You see, I considered having her stay with me, but my apartment is really small. A tiny little one-bedroom is the best I can afford in Manhattan on my salary, and with Lucern there it's already quite crowded. I considered putting Terri up in a hotel. Luc even offered to pay for it, but I know she would refuse and insist on paying for herself. And what with all the expense she's already going to as my maid of honor, I didn't want to burden her any more than necessary. She really can't afford this, but she wouldn't say so."
"Proud?" Bastien guessed.
"Yes. Very. Her mother was a single parent, and Terri has been taking care of herself since Aunt Maggie died when she was nineteen. She's stubborn and has trouble asking for, or accepting, help."
Bastien nodded. He understood pride. He had a good deal of it himself. Too much, perhaps, at times. "You want me to put her up in the penthouse," he guessed.
"Yes. If you wouldn't mind," Kate admitted, looking hopeful.
Bastien smiled indulgently. His brother's fiancée made the request as if it were a huge imposition. Which it wasn't. The penthouse had five bedrooms and was huge. He also wasn't there very much, and would probably never even see the girl. He'd leave Terri in the housekeeper's capable hands; she wouldn't be any bother to him at all.
"That isn't a problem, Kate. She's welcome to one of the rooms in the penthouse. When is she arriving? Sometime this weekend, I should imagine, if she's coming two weeks early."
"Yes." Kate exchanged another glance with Lucern before admitting, "She arrives today, actually."
"Today?" Bastien didn't bother hiding his surprise.
"I know. It's very short notice, and I'm sorry. I would have asked sooner if I'd known. Originally, she was supposed to come the day before the wedding like everyone else. But Terri decided to surprise me and took the time off. I only found out an hour ago, because it apparently occurred to her that she'd better be sure I was home and she wouldn't be left sitting on my doorstep for a couple of days or something, so she called me from the plane."
"Well, it's a good thing she did," Bastien commented, then noticed another exchange of glances between the pair, and narrowed his eyes. It was obvious there was more to this favor than Kate's maid of honor staying with him. It suddenly struck him: "I suppose she needs a lift from the airport?"
"Well, she was going to take a taxi, but you know how expensive that is, and she really—"
"Can't afford it, but is too proud to say so, and you know she wouldn't take the money from you if you offered it, so you insisted you'd have someone pick her up," Bastien finished for her.
Katie narrowed her eyes. "Are you reading my mind?"
"No," he assured her. "Just a lucky guess."
"Oh." She relaxed. "You guessed right. Would it be too much bother?"
Bastien's gaze slid to his brother, and Kate added, "Lucern can go with you, of course. He offered to do it himself, but he doesn't know the highways as well as you do, or the airports or where to go. I would have gone myself, but I'm so swamped at work right now, I—"
"Luc and I will collect her," Bastien assured her, smiling at Kate's diplomatic excuse. Lucern didn't need to know the roads; he could have taken one of the family's company cars, with a driver. The truth was, Lucern was still somewhat antisocial. He wasn't as bad as he used to be, but he was still a touch awkward in social situations, and Bastien suspected Kate was afraid that he would greet her cousin and best friend with a grunt of "Follow me," then remain silent all the way into town. Bastien, on the other hand, dealt with humans all the time and was a little more social. He also—luckily enough for Kate, and for the as yet unseen Terri—happened to have a light afternoon at the office. It wouldn't be a problem taking time off.
"Great," Lucern said dryly. "Has it occurred to you, Katie my love, that you are sending two men, who haven't a clue what your cousin and best friend in the whole world looks like, to collect her? How will we spot her?"
"You can make up a sign with her name on it," Kate suggested brightly. "And between the two of you, I
know
you'll find and deliver her safely."
Bastien took in his brother's doubtful expression with amusement. There had been a definite warning to Kate's words:
Bring her back safe, or else.
"Darn, I have to go. We have a production meeting this afternoon. That's why I couldn't get out of work to pick her up myself," Kate explained, getting to her feet. She bent to kiss Lucern, started to straighten, then bent to press another kiss to his lips. It ended with a sighed "I love you, Luc."
"And I love you, Kate," Lucern replied. His tongue slid out to lick quickly across her lower lip, and in the next moment, the two lovers were kissing again.
Bastien sighed and directed his gaze to the diners around them. He knew from experience that there would now be several more moments of soft sighs and kisses before Kate would tear herself away. The pair was pathetic. He only hoped this honeymoon phase they were enjoying passed soon. He feared not, however. It had been nearly a year since his brother Etienne had married Rachel, and two years since Lissianna and Greg's marriage; yet neither couple appeared to be passing out of this same lusty, loving phase. His whole damned family seemed to be rather slow at moving out of it. They were all equally pathetic. He was the only member of the family, aside from his mother, who didn't spend ridiculous amounts of time making out in public, private, or anywhere they found themselves. But, then, neither he nor his mother had anyone to make out with.
Bastien ignored the twinge of envy that ate at him as he heard another soft sigh from Kate, followed by a faint moan. In the next moment, his head whipped around in surprise when Kate spoke in suddenly businesslike tones.
"This might help." Kate had straightened and was digging a photo out of her purse. "It's a relatively new picture. Terri e-mailed it to me last month. Now, I have to go.
Be nice to her."
She set the photo onto the table between them, then turned and began easing her way through the tables toward the exit of the tiny, crowded restaurant.
"God, she's wonderful," Lucern sighed as he watched Kate pause and step to the side to make room for someone entering the small eatery.
Bastien rolled his eyes, not missing the fact that his brother's gaze was fixed firmly on his fiancée's derriere. Suddenly aware that his own gaze had followed Lucern's, he gave his head a shake and turned his attention to the photo on the table. It was a picture of a woman in her late twenties. She had full lips curved in an impish smile; and large, soft eyes.
"A beauty," he commented, noting that Kate's cousin appeared to be Kate's opposite. She was brunette to Kate's blonde, and buxom and curvy in a way that made him think of ripe fruit, as opposed to Kate's slender figure. But she was stunning in her own way.
"Is she?" Lucern asked with disinterest, his gaze still following his soon-to-be wife.
"If you'd stop ogling Kate and take a look, you could see for yourself," Bastien pointed out.
Lucern turned an amused glance his way, then looked at the picture and shrugged with disinterest. "She's all right. Not as beautiful as Katie, though."
Bastien snorted. "No one is as beautiful as Katie, in your eyes."
"You're right," Lucern agreed, lifting his glass to take a swallow of whiskey before adding, "Kate's perfect in my eyes. No one comes close to her in anything."
"Forgive me, brother. But I believe the modern expression is 'You got it bad.'" Bastien gave an amused shake of his head. He liked Kate well enough, but she wasn't perfect. Damned near, perhaps, but not quite. "So? What time does this Terri person's plane get in?"
Lucern glanced at his wristwatch, shrugging. "In about an hour."
"What?" Bastien squawked.
"What, what?" Lucern asked.
"You're joking! She doesn't get in in an hour."
"Yes, she does."
Bastien stared at him blankly, then asked, "Which airport?"
"JFK."
"Dear God."
"What?" Lucern asked. He looked concerned as Bastien began scanning the tiny restaurant in search of their waitress. Of course she'd disappeared right when they wanted her, probably into the kitchen.
"You could have mentioned this before, damn it," Bastien growled. "Hell, why didn't Kate mention it? She knows it takes an hour to get to JFK. Where the hell is that waitress?"
"She probably didn't realize how late it was," Lucern excused Kate. "Besides, she's a little distracted right now."
"Yeah? Well, it will be her fault if we're late."
"We'll make it," Lucern said soothingly as the waitress walked back out of the kitchen. Gesturing her over, he added, "Terri has to collect her luggage and go through customs anyway."
Bastien shook his head in disgust. Lucern rarely worried about anything anymore, but a couple hundred years in the business world had made him a details man. "She may have to get through customs, but we still have to get the car and drive there. Let's just hope traffic isn't particularly slow today."
Leaving Lucern to deal with the bill, Bastien took out his cellphone and called his driver. While he drove himself or took taxis at night, when he traveled during daylight Bastien always had a driver. Aside from saving the trouble of finding parking, it prevented his being out in sunlight any longer than necessary—he simply had to jog from the car to the entrance of wherever he needed to go. Not that he couldn't have stood walking a few minutes in sunlight, or even longer than that really, but it meant he would need to ingest more blood, which could be pretty inconvenient at times.
Once assured that the car was on its way, Bastien snapped the phone closed and slid it back into his pocket, then began to consider how best to handle this situation. While he used a chauffeured limo when necessary, his usual driver was on vacation and Bastien really didn't want to spend the hour-long drive out to the airport watching everything he said around the replacement driver. They would have to ride back to the office to collect his car. He'd also pack some blood in a cooler to take with them in case of an emergency, Bastien decided. All of his cars had special window treatments to prevent UV rays from getting in to do any damage, but should the car break down or get a flat tire and they be forced to fix it or walk any distance in sunlight, things could get uncomfortable, or even dangerous.
All of this would take time, of course, and increase the chances that they weren't going to be on time to collect Terri, but if luck was with them and traffic wasn't slow…
"Traffic's slow," Lucern said a short time later.
Bastien gave a short laugh. "Of course it is. Murphy's law, right?"
Lucern grunted.
"Reach in the backseat and grab my briefcase. You'll have to make the sign."
"Won't we recognize Terri from the picture?" Lucern retrieved the case and set it on his lap.
"Maybe. But I don't want to count on that. If we miss her, Kate will kill us both."
Luc gave another grunt. He had never been big on talking. Bastien supposed that was why Kate had wanted someone else along to collect her cousin. The only time Luc seemed to talk was when she was around. It was also the only time he smiled. She brought something out of him no one else could, and which apparently retreated or dropped dead the moment she was out of sight. When Kate wasn't around, it was difficult to get more than a couple of words out of Lucern; a grunt was his response of choice.
"What do you want on it?"
Bastien glanced to the side. Not only had Lucern managed to string more than two words together, he'd pulled a large notepad and pen from the briefcase and was ready to write. "Just put her name on it."
"Right." Lucern scrawled the name Terri across the paper, then paused. "What's her last name?"
"You're asking
me?
She's
your
fiancée's cousin, not mine."
"Yeah," Luc agreed, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "Didn't Kate mention it at lunch?"
"No. Not that I recall." Bastien glanced at him. "You really don't know?"
"I can't remember."
"Well, Kate must have mentioned it a time or two over the last few months."
"Yeah." Luc was silent for a moment, then bent his head to write on the page again.
Relieved that his brother remembered, Bastien turned his attention back to traffic, then spared a glance at his watch. "If her flight isn't early and customs takes twenty minutes or so, we might just get there before she gives up and hops in a taxi. Where will she go if she doesn't find anyone waiting for her?"
"Probably Kate's office."
"Yeah. That would thrill Kate. Let's hope the flight isn't early."
It wasn't.
"Two hours late," Lucern grunted as they made their way into the arrivals terminal. "All that rushing to get here on time, and we end up cooling our heels for two hours."
Bastien smiled faintly at his brother's disgust. They had arrived at the airport only to discover Kate's cousin's flight had made an unscheduled stop in Detroit for "mechanical difficulties," and had stayed there while something was fixed. It was due to arrive two hours late. Bastien had been concerned by the news until he had approached the airline desk to inquire and learned that the problem was with one of the bathrooms on the plane. Not that the clerk had told him that; Bastien had slipped briefly into her mind to find out. It wasn't something the airline wanted to advertise, and the mysterious "mechanical difficulties" sounded better to them than admitting one of their toilets had gone screwy. They didn't want the motto "Fly the crappy skies."