I woke up with a throbbing headache and remembered exactly why I stuck to champagne, martinis, and mimosas. Well besides the disgusting taste of hard liquor.
I then felt panic.
I looked around but stopped myself when I could feel my brain rattling around.
I noticed the twins passed out next to me and felt relief wash over.
I smelled tobacco, whiskey, and old spice and figured that it came from the shirt I have on.
"Beau?" I call.
I slowly get up.
The golden Victorian couch bedded the man I was looking for. It was still kind of dark.
"What is it Brielle?" he groans.
"I didn't know where I was." I reply lamely.
"Go back to bed." he runs his eye and stretches.
His body really is amazing- toned and muscly but not too much. He's got a swimmer body going on except I don't think he swims much.
"You can't tell me what to do."
"Are you going to sass the man who took care of you?" he half snaps.
"Does Beau have some maternal instinct in him?" I tease.
"Fuck off Brielle. I'm tired."
"Wow I'm the one who's hung over and you're the one being a bitch."
"You know what Brielle you can either go to sleep or leave."
"Considering how rude you are leaving sounds really appealing right about now."
He sighs, "Shut up and please go back to bed."
"Oh man Beau said please? I guess I have to listen now."
I take a step back but then walk over to the couch. I lean on the back of it and Beau cracks open an eye to look at me like he expected it.
"I was supposed to kill you." I say.
"What? Keep speaking." he demands.
"Now you want me to talk..."
"Brielle," he warns.
I sigh, "I was supposed to kill you before you killed me."
I shake my head, "I wouldn't be able to even if I wanted to. And I want to quite frequently. But since my father left me everything I make all the business decisions so..."
Beau gets up and walks to his room. He returns with a bottle of aspirin.
He puts it in my hand then wraps his arms around me. He rests his chin in the top of my head.
"You're a two faced bitch Brielle. You make me very angry and I frequently want to hurt you too. But as we discovered I can't put a bullet through you. Maybe it's because you're too beautiful to kill or maybe because I've known you for too long, but whatever the reason is the point is that I won't ever kill you. So please go to sleep so I can sleep too."
I actually think I might drop dead. Is my heart still working? Has Hell frozen over?
"Are you always like this when you're tired?"
"I'm never like this and will deny it if you ever speak of it."
I nod my head, "Okay. Goodnight Beau."
He kisses the top of my head and returns to the couch.
The moment I saw my mother after Papa's death I decided to keep L'Ouverture. The problem is that I don't want it, but I also don't want her to have it. She'll sell it to her boyfriend. I don't think I want him to have it either. But even though I hate Mama for breaking Papa's heart I still love her. It's not her fault for not loving him. She's a greedy whore but I love her.
"How are you feeling? Hangover wise and mourning wise." Matteo's wife Stella asks. She has this very maternal air to her.
I shift a bit in my seat.
It's weird having breakfast with the three of them plus Marcus and Marchesa.
Marcus saw Beau nearly naked on the couch and almost passed out. Marchesa woke up after Beau put clothes on but still seems to hate him.
As soon as Matteo and Stella walked in they rushed us to get breakfast. Stella kindly lent me jeans to wear with Beau's shirt.
"Hangover's gone and I'm dealing with the mourning." I lightly shrug.
"I took care of that for her." Beau flashes a cocky smile.
I send him a dirty look, "You're not cute. At all."
I slightly managed to convince myself that the sentimental moment I had with Beau earlier was just a dream. We went back to bickering and I immediately wanted to kill him once again.
"I swear I will rip your face off."
Beau leaned in closer and pointed to his face, "Go ahead. Go on now."
"We can head back to my place if you'd like Brielle. You could have your way with me."
Marcus dramatically shivers, "The sexual tension is eating me alive."
Stella nods, "I almost wanted to cut it with a knife."
"What a coincidence I almost wanted to cut Beau with a knife." I glare at him. He's staring at me again.
He just keeps staring and my nose twitches. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
I assume I missed the questioning looks because Matteo spoke, "Brielle's nose twitches whenever Beau really pisses her off. I thought that just happened when they were little though."
"Nope," Beau says smugly, "Still the same."
The waitress refills Beau's Irish coffee and she brings out our orders.
I focus on my strawberry lemon muffin and my Frappuccino. My absolute favorite place to have breakfast is France. The thought of me staying in France to handle this business makes me happier.
Beau finishes his bagel before everyone is even halfway through with their meal and heads outside to smoke.
"So are you guys staying in France?" Matteo asks.
The twins look at me.
"Yeah I'll be here for a while. I need to deal with L'Ouverture and that other thing."
He nods understanding, "You seem to really like it here. You should've gone to boarding school here instead of me."
"Sometimes I wish I did but being home schooled just worked better."
"Where did you two go?" Stella asks good-naturedly.
"We went everywhere," Marchesa spoke, "Constantly transferring since our mother had to travel a lot."
"I found it fabulous." Marcus shrugged.
"I'm glad you two got married," I interjected, "You're great together." I finally noticed Stella's diamond and pearl ring.
"Are you in a relationship? Last I saw you, which was years ago, you were dating this British guy." Stella asks.
"Louis," Marcus nods remembering him.
"Nope. I haven't been involved with anyone in a while, and mama wants me to get married soon." I stir my drink.
"I prefer meaningless sex and I don't really plan on getting married."
"Really?" Matteo interjects, "I remember when we were young you and Beau played dress up. He was the fake groom until he ripped the blooms off your bouquet and you tried to throw a cat at him."
"Beau ruined it for me obviously," I joke, "But there just isn't anyone I want to marry."
He nods understanding, "Just like Beau. Well he thinks marriage is just a hindrance."
"Damn right I do." Beau says joining us once again.
I roll my eyes, "It's not a hindrance. It's just pointless if you don't love someone truly."
"Marriage means waking up next to the same person every day and being tied down."
"Says the immature bastard incapable of commitment."
"Oh please do tell me more about myself psychologist Brielle."
"Besides that you're an alcoholic little fuck? There's not much else."
"You're just bitter because you don't want to end up like your parents."
Sadly that isn't even the most hurtful he's said to me nor I- him.
I resist the urge to throw my plate at him and leave.
Outside the restaurant I feel arms wrap around me. Beau turns me around, kisses me, and pushes my back against the wall or window- it doesn't really matter.
His lips move in sync with mine. I have to gasp when his presses his body so firmly to mine I feel everything heat up.
"I don't take back what I said. I mean it." he says.
"I know. At least we all know where my problem comes from. But you Beau? Who knows why you're so fucked up."
"It's probably from you."
I give him a dirty look.
"I really want to throw a brick at your face."
"I could find you a few."
I shove him off me.
"Brielle you could've pushed me into the road. I could've died." he mocks my weakness.
"Let me try again then."
I never liked physical activities, only sex, and always preferred to think a lot. But thinking about business proved to be my least favorite activity ever.
I pulled myself away from the man next to me. My business dinner had turned into quite a bit more.
I couldn't get myself to focus on L'Ouverture.
I thought I'd be more prepared to handle this business but somehow the underground business is eons easier to deal with.
I tied my messy knotted hair up and get my clothes on before my presence could be missed.
I carefully shut the door and fix my heels.
My meeting was initially between one of my dad's friends, but he sent his attractive son instead. His eyes just set shivers down my spine, but that seemed to be it.
I stumbled into my apartment and immediately went for the shower.
The ice cold water turned hot and steaming. I let out a happy sigh and stretched my muscles out like a cat.
I put a large t-shirt over my underwear and put my wet hair into a ballerina bun.
I jumped into my king sized bed and rolled around. The cold linen felt amazing in my skin.
French air is just better. Staying home and relaxing is just better.
I called Lydia and the twins to see if they wanted to come over for a spa day.