Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(68)
“I don’t even know what my choices are,” Chloe said. And yet, she did. Would she help her family get the necklace, or would she help Luc? An unexpected flood of emotions overwhelmed her. “I don’t know which way to go. I have so many people pulling me in different directions. How do I choose who I please and who I hurt?”
Adelaide cocked her head, curious but nonjudgmental. “Which direction do you want to go?”
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling oddly compelled to spill out all of her confusion and longing to this woman she barely knew. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Then I will tell you.” Adelaide reached across the table and laid a hand over Chloe’s. “Listen to your heart and have the courage to follow what it says.”
“You don’t think that’s selfish?”
Those piercing eyes stared into hers. “When I look at you, I don’t see selfish. You have a heart that is far more tender than you want to show, but it’s there for anyone who cares to see. When the time is right, make the decision that is right for you. That is the only way you’ll find the place where you belong.”
Chloe opened her mouth, but no words came out. How could Adelaide possibly know how much Chloe craved exactly that, a place to belong?
“And now, I need to go,” Adelaide said, rising. “I may be old, but the night is young. Laissez les bons temps rouler,” she said with a flourish. Let the good times roll.
Chloe watched as Adelaide started across the barn. A group on the dance floor grabbed her and she was swept up into the movement, laughing and turning with a group of young and old people who all seemed to be dancing together.
“Everything all right?” Luc asked, taking a seat beside her. He glanced from his grandmother to Chloe. She looked composed but tense, as if a river of turmoil ran just beneath the surface.
“Everything’s fine.” She smiled stiffly.
“You look upset.”
“Confused, actually,” A frown dimpled her brow. “Does your grandmother know my connection to the necklace?”
“Why? Did she mention it?”
“No, she didn’t.” Her frown deepened.
“Then what did she say?”
“She asked me about something that happened yesterday.” Her expression turned worried. “I have a confession. I spoke to her in Jackson Square. Right after she did your portrait.”
“You were there?” He straightened. “I knew it!”
“How?”
“Uh…” He didn’t dare tell her he had a built-in Chloe-sense. “It’s not important. You talked to Mémère?”
“Yes.” Her eyes lowered with guilt, then rose with apology. “I saw you talking to her, recognized her from your drawing, and…”
“What?” he prompted.
“I was trying to decide if I had the courage to contact you, to see if we could…”
“Work this out?” he guessed. Tremendously relieved she had, he brushed her cheek with the back of his finger. “I’m glad you did.”
“Me too.”
“So, what did she say?”
“I had her do my portrait, and then she read my palm.”
“She doesn’t read palms anymore. Or cards. I told you that.”
“I know.” Her face lined with uncertainty.
“What did she say?” When her frown deepened, he held up his hand. “No, let me guess. It was something cryptic that somehow made no sense, yet made profound sense. Right?”
She nodded.
Releasing a sigh, he took hold of her hand. “I’m sorry if she upset you.”
“I wouldn’t say upset.” She frowned. “More like confused.”
“I know the feeling.” He looked into her eyes, longing to comfort her. The swirl of people and noise whirling around them stopped him.
She glanced about as well. “Would you mind if we left?” she asked apologetically. “I don’t want to take you away from your family and it looks like the party is just getting started, but…”
“It’s okay.” He laughed without humor. “I think I’ve had enough family time for one day.”
Chloe was quiet as they made their way to the car. The sun hadn’t fully set and color filled the sky as night bugs did their best to compete with the music coming from the barn.
Once they’d climbed in the Porsche, Luc looked at her. “You sure you’re okay?”
She just nodded.
He wanted to push her for an honest answer, but feared making things worse. “Okay, I’ll take you home.”
“LeRoche House isn’t my home,” she said hollowly.
“I just meant—”
“I don’t have a home.” Her voice tightened. She swallowed visibly to regain control, refusing to look at him. “I thought I did, for a while. But it wasn’t real. Pearl Island was just a place where I was staying as a welcome and useful guest. I’ve never had a home.”
“Chloe, I—” He didn’t know what to say. Her outward calm more than her words twisted his insides. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it was okay to be upset, to cry or yell, or do whatever she wanted to let out whatever was upsetting her. She clearly didn’t want that, though, so he sighed with regret. “Where would you like me to take you?”