All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

“You have a daughter.”


“Technically. Biologically. She doesn’t love me.” Dominique took another drink, knowing the more difficult truth was that Chantal could barely stand her. “What did you think of her?”

“She’s lovely.”

Dominique laughed. “Hardly. Chantal is many things, but not lovely. She’s capable and strong. She gets both of those from me. I am not the delicate flower you see before you.”

She rose and walked into the bedroom. Justice followed her as far as the doorway. She motioned to the three suitcases by the dresser. A fourth had been put on a luggage rack.

“Would you please put those on the bed for me?”

He did as she requested and stepped back. She set her drink on the nightstand, then opened the smallest of the suitcases. Inside were several carefully wrapped pictures. She took the top one and removed the protective layers, then held out the framed photo.

“My husband,” she said.

Justice took the picture.

She didn’t have to look at it to see Dan. So tall and handsome. He’d swept her off her feet within a few minutes of meeting her. Her manager had arranged for Dan to put in shelves in Dominique’s New York dance studio. She’d shown up unexpectedly to find him working. He’d turned around, smiled and she’d been lost.

They’d married two months later, much to the shock of her business manager and all her friends. But she’d never regretted the impulsive decision. They’d loved each other until the day he died. There had been other men in her life and in her bed. Before him and after he’d died. But no one else had ever touched her heart.

“He looks happy,” Justice said, returning the picture to her.

She took it and placed it on the dresser. “He was. He had me and Chantal. He loved us both.” Dominique had struggled with that, she remembered, wanting to be the center of her husband’s universe. How he’d devoted himself to his daughter. Sometimes she’d been jealous. Foolishly, maybe. Wrong, perhaps. But true.

She offered another picture. This one of a three-year-old Chantal in a tutu. Even then she’d been too tall and far too awkward. She’d wanted to play with trucks instead of dolls and she had no patience or talent for any kind of dance.

“I wanted a daughter like myself. A dancer. Someone I could nurture and mold. What’s that old saying? If you want God to laugh, make plans?”

Justice gave her back that picture.

“No advice?” she asked.

“Not in the job description.”

“Were you a spy, Justice?”

“Nothing that exciting.”

“I’m not sure I believe you. Do you think I’m attractive?”

Nothing about his expression changed. “Ma’am?”

She smiled briefly. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to seduce you. I used to be beautiful. A sheik once offered me a million dollars for a night with him. Just like that movie from years ago. It was before I met my husband, so I said yes.” The smile returned and broadened as she remembered. “The next morning he sent me home with the million dollars and a diamond necklace. He wanted to marry me, of course. So many of them did.”

She sighed, knowing the memories would be with her tonight. Sometimes they were just like her former suitors. Insistent. Determined.

“Well, Justice Garrett, I will see you in the morning. You have your room key?”

He touched his jacket pocket. “You never answered the question.”

“Why I hired you?” She shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious? With you around, I get to pretend that I still matter. That I’m still famous. That I have significance. None of which is true.”

He looked at her for several seconds, then murmured, “Good night,” and left.

When the door had closed behind him, Dominique picked up the picture of Dan and stared at his familiar face. “I would give it all up to have you back,” she whispered. “You know that, don’t you?”

Tears filled her eyes. As there was no one to impress, she let them fall. Smudged makeup didn’t matter these days.

She pressed the picture to her chest and let the truth wash over her. She was alone. She had been for years, but she’d never allowed herself to see it. Being in that hospital room, waiting to find out if she was going to live or die, had brought that painful reality home. As she’d waited, she’d vowed that if she survived, things would be different.

Chantal was the only family she had left. Dominique refused to lose her. She was here to be a part of her daughter’s life—however much Chantal might resist.

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