Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

I’m not the religious type.

But when the “priest” shows up,

it’s difficult not to confess.

~ Chloé

DINNER SERVICE WENT off without a hitch. So did dessert. There had been a couple of compliments to the chef, no send-backs, and, as far as Chloé was aware, everything out in the main dining room had gone amazing.

It was a pity the same couldn’t be said about back in the kitchens.

Her père had avoided her all through service, only speaking to her when absolutely necessary—and then, only about work. There was no joking, no creating, no joy in this kitchen tonight, and knowing she was the reason for that made her heart ache.

When the final guest left for the evening and they began to close down, the anxiety she’d managed to keep at bay began to creep back in. It was only a matter of time now before she’d have to face the music, and she was starting to think the wait was worse than what the actual conversation would be.

God, could they just get it over with already?

“Chloé?”

She turned to see her dad standing at the stainless-steel doors, a grim look on his face.

“You ready to go?”

“Uh…”

She looked back to her half-finished station, and Kayla—their sous chef—stepped in and said, “I got this.”

“Are you sure?”

Kayla nodded. She was probably thrilled to get her the hell out of there. It wasn’t like the night had been fun for them either.

Chloé glanced back to her dad. “Can you give me five?”

He nodded, the door swished shut, and Chloé hurried to the locker room, where she untied her apron and tossed it in the laundry bin along with her jacket. Once she had washed up, she took a quick look at her phone, and there was a message from Ethan and Zayne.

Ethan

Remember, anything they say tonight is because they care. Try to listen and understand where they’re coming from and maybe you’ll find some common ground.

Zayne

Just try not to set that ground on fire.

Chloé grinned. Their messages were exactly what she needed to see.

She pocketed her phone and felt her nerves subside a little, as a sense of calm determination filled her. She’d never been the kind of person to back down from something she wanted. Her fathers had always taught her that she should fight for it, and this would be no different.

She wanted a relationship with Ethan and Zayne. She wanted a chance to see where it would go, and she wasn’t going to back down just because her fathers were unhappy. She just needed to talk to them, to explain where her head was. Then they’d come around, she knew it.

Chloé grabbed her purse and headed for the doors. When she stepped out into the hall, she ran into her père,who caught her by the arms.

“Désolée.”

“Maybe slow down next time when coming out of the kitchens, d’accord?”

As he continued past her toward Dad’s office, Chloé blew out a breath and followed. It was clear she had some work to do there, but that was what tonight was for, to talk things out. She just hoped they were willing to listen.

When they reached the office, her dad made himself busy by buttoning his peacoat, then the three of them headed outside to the car. The awkward silence between them was weird. It was something she’d never really experienced before, and she knew she had no one to blame but herself. So unless she wanted to start tonight’s conversation right here and now, she’d best just keep her mouth shut and wait for them to initiate the interrogation.

She stared out the window, reading each street sign they passed, counting down the minutes until they pulled into their drive and her père cut the engine.

Chloé’s stomach dropped.

She shut her eyes and took in a deep breath. When she heard the front doors of the vehicle open, she wished she could turn back time to the day she’d locked herself in the car with her papa’s keys—she’d been five. But there was no time machine. She wasn’t some precocious child. There were no grinning faces peering through the window telling her to “unlock the door now, angel,” as her papa worked on it from the outside.

Nope, there was none of that.

There was just a dark driveway and silence as her fathers disappeared inside and left her to follow.

You can do this. Just go in, talk it out, and stay calm. Then it’ll be done. Over with.

She headed inside and up the stairs, and had barely made it two steps across the hardwood when she heard, “In the living room now, young lady.”

Chloé’s heart thumped at the sound of her papa’s voice, and if she thought she’d been nervous before, this was a whole other level.

She slowly made her way into the living room to see her père standing over by the window, her dad seated at one end of a love seat with his feet tucked up under him, and finally her papa in his club chair.

All of them wearing different variations of a frown.

“Hi.” Chloé placed her handbag on the accent chair closest to her and wondered if she should sit. But the more she thought about it, the more she figured it’d be easier to make a run for it if she was already on her feet.

“Hi?” Her papa tapped his fingers on the wooden arm of his chair. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“Um—”

“Um won’t be acceptable tonight, Chloé. So you better choose your words wisely.”

God, she hadn’t been lying when she told Ethan her papa was scary. She could feel the sweat popping out on her forehead, and he’d barely spoken more than a handful of words to her.

“Of course. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—”

“Damn right you will.” Papa’s voice rumbled around the room like thunder as he slowly got to his feet. “What in the world has gotten into you? Lying to us, sneaking around? I thought we raised you better than that.”

“You did.” She nodded and stepped forward. “And I shouldn’t have done what I did, but—”

Chloé bit off her words, remembering what her papa always said about the word but: In an apology, it negates everything that came before it. It is merely an excuse to justify your actions.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“Which is what, exactly? The list is so long, I feel we need to clarify. That you were out on a date with two men? That those men are at least ten years older than you? That you lied to us for the last however many weeks whenever we asked where you were going?” Papa looked over to her père and dad. “Did I miss anything in there?”

“Non.”

“No, that about covers it.”

He gave a clipped nod and turned his attention back to her. “Well? We’re waiting. And so help me God, Chloé, if you lie to me again, you will not like the consequences.”

She was in so much damn trouble. The “priest” was in full force now. As she stood there frozen, she finally understood where he got the name from, because in that moment, she was ready to tell him everything. If only she could remember how to speak.

“Why don’t you start with something simple? What are the names of these”—he paused, and Chloé saw his jaw twitch—“two men you’ve been seeing?”

Okay, that one seemed easy enough—after all, they already knew Ethan’s. But somehow, she didn’t think they were going to be all that thrilled when they found out Zayne’s full name.

So maybe she’d just leave the last part out for now.

“Ethan and Zayne.”

“Their full names, Chloé.”

Ooorrr maybe not.

“Ethan Holt and”—she worried her lower lip for a second—“Zayne Copeland.”

“Zayne Copeland?” Dad’s eyes widened as his feet slid out from under him to hit the floor. “As in Senator Copeland’s…”

“Son.”

“Jesus Christ.” Her papa sounded murderous. “You really have lost your mind.”

“No, I haven’t. I promise.”

“And that’s supposed to mean what to me? A promise is built on trust, Chloé, and you have broken that.”

She sucked in a breath as shame flooded in. She knew how important trust was to her papa, and to hear that she had broken that cut deeper than anything else he could’ve said.

“How long?” Papa’s voice was so soft that she almost missed the question, and when she didn’t immediately answer, he doubled down. “How long has this been going on?”

Chloé twisted her hands together. “About a month.”

“A month?” Dad walked over to stand by Papa. “When have you had the time? You’ve been helping Shayla at her—”

His words cut off as Chloé lowered her eyes, and her papa answered for her.

“You haven’t been helping Shayla. Have you?”

When she shook her head, her père cursed over by the window. “Mon Dieu. Why? Why would you do this?”

“I don’t know,” she blurted out, looking over at him. “I just, I didn’t think you’d approve, and—”

“You were spot-on.” Her papa fumed. “There is no way we would’ve okayed this. Forget the lying or the fact that you’ve now dragged your cousin into this little web of deceit. There is no way we would’ve been okay with two older men dating you.”

“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” she shouted.

“Watch yourself, young lady.”

Chloé bit down into her lip and shook her head. “I know what I did was wrong—”

“Wrong? That word doesn’t even begin to cover what this is.”

“But I knew if you found out that you’d…flip out.”

Papa stared her down, his eyes narrowing. “So you thought lying was the better option?”

When she said nothing, he let out a frustrated breath and turned away from her.

“We’ve always been honest with each other, Chloé—when did that stop?”

She wasn’t sure. In her excitement at meeting Ethan and Zayne, she’d somehow allowed herself to forget how open she usually was with her fathers, and she was truly regretting that now.

She could feel her papa’s disappointment rolling off him in waves, and as she stared at his back, her vision began to blur from the tears swimming in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was so soft that she wasn’t even sure he would hear her. But when he turned to face her, she continued on. “I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have snuck around behind your backs. It was wrong, and I really am sorry.”

Her père shook his head. "Et c’est censé tout régler?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “But I liked them and wanted to see them, and I didn’t think you’d let me.”

“And that’s supposed to make us feel better?”

“No. I’m just trying to explain.”

“Explain?” Dad scoffed. “We still don’t know the half of it. You said you met them at JULIEN. Is that the truth?”

Oh God. She’d forgotten about that. Damn Justin for putting her on the spot at their family dinner. Then again, this was her mess, and she was the one who’d lied. But how did you tell your fathers that you meet the guys you were seeing at a sex club? There was no way she was doing that, even now. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t tell a portion of the truth.

“Kind of. I first met them through Shayla, then at JULIEN.”

“Shayla?” Dad rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised? Penny has always been a wild child. Like mother, like daughter.”

Papa side-eyed him. “You should know.”

Dad’s mouth fell open, his indignation flashing in his eyes. “You think she gets this behavior from me?”

“There are certain similarities, you must admit.”

“Bite your tongue, Joel.”

“Arrêtez ça.”Her père’s order had everyone falling silent as he pushed off the window and walked over. “Chloé’s behavior is hers and hers alone. As are the bad choices she’s made.”

Chloé’s cheeks heated under the admonishment.

“I can’t begin tell you how disappointed I am—that we are—in you. Your actions in the last month are that of a stranger. We thought we taught you better than that, bichette? To think that we didn’t? That hurts.”

Chloé’s chin trembled as she bit back her tears. She’d never felt more ashamed of herself than she did right then, and she knew she had a long way to go in making this up to them.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

She looked between their disappointed faces and felt a tear escape and roll down her cheek.

“I didn’t mean to let this get so out of hand. I wanted to tell you all about them. But every time I thought about it, I lost my nerve.” She thought about what she wanted to say next, then blurted out, “I know you’re mad at me, that I’ve done everything the wrong way, and I hate that. I hate that I hurt you and wish that I could change it…but I can’t.”

She wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “I love you all so much. You’re the best fathers in the world, and I’m so lucky to have you. The last thing I want to do is disappoint you.”

Dad crossed his arms and arched a brow. “Go on.”

“I know it might not seem like it at the moment. But you all taught me to show good judgment—and Ethan and Zayne, they’re great guys. They treat me really well.”

“Ethan and Zayne…” Her père drew their names out, his eyes asking the question before he even voiced it. “So we’re right in assuming they’re a couple?”

“Yes. Just like you and Papa were when you met Dad.”

Papa scoffed, and Père looked at him, his eyes softening a fraction.

“What?” she said, turning to her papa. “I’m right, aren’t I? It’s the same thing.”

“On the surface, maybe.” Papa shook his head. “But there are very distinct differences, such as our ages. You are nineteen years old.”

“Are you trying to tell me that if Dad had been nineteen—”

“He was not.”

“But if he had been, that it would’ve stopped you and Père from pursuing him?”

The room fell silent. Père let out a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. “She has a point, mon cœur.”

Holy. Shit. Did she just hear him right? Surely he wasn’t sticking up for her. But when she saw her dad biting back a grin, she knew she hadn’t misheard.

“Sorry, Joel.” Dad shrugged. “Jules is right.”

Papa took a deep breath and then let it out, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t matter. She’s missing the point.”

“I’m not, I promise,” Chloé said. “But I really like them, Papa, and you, Dad, and Papounet always taught me to go after what I want.”

“We didn’t mean two men, Chloé. That’s complicated and messy, and feelings can get hurt.”

“That can happen with one man—or woman.”

Pèrerubbed her papa’s arm, and she wasn’t sure if he was trying to calm or console him. “I think what your papa is trying to say is that feelings are more complex when there’s three people involved. Especially when you’re coming into an established relationship.”

“I know, but it’s not like that. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve grown up watching the three of you, but I don’t feel any weirdness or any kind of jealousy about them.”

“Yet.” Dad got up and walked over to her, stroking a hand over her hair. “Look, we were in shock yesterday—”

“I’m still in shock today.”

Dad looked at Papa, who was shaking his head.

“But should we be? Chloé’s right—she’s grown up watching the three of us, which for her is the norm. So it kind of makes sense that this is where she’s at now.”

Dad turned back to face her. “But you have to understand it wasn’t always like this with us. It wasn’t always easy. I used to get jealous. I remember feeling left out once with your papa and père,and I couldn’t bear the idea that they wouldn’t want me as much as they wanted each other, and that’s why we’re worried. We understand the dynamics here. How hard they are. You don’t.”

Chloé lowered her eyes to the bracelets on her wrists, knowing there was a lot more to her dynamics with Ethan and Zayne than she was letting on.

“But shouldn’t I get a chance to work that out for myself?”

Her dad sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Probably. Is that easy for us to wrap our heads around? No, it isn’t. But maybe if we talk it through, we can work something out.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Dad played with one of her curls. “What if we were to meet them?”

Her stomach lurched. “Meet them?”

Sure, she’d offered up that exact suggestion last night, but only because she was backed into a corner. She’d figured a quick hi and bye might distract them from what they were seeing. But to actually meet them meet them? That was… Oh God. She couldn’t even imagine bringing that up with Ethan and Zayne.

She turned wide eyes on her papa, hoping he’d nix the idea as a horrible one and just let her work things out on her own. But when his eyes narrowed and the wheels started to turn, she knew she was screwed.

“I think that sounds fair. If these two men want to continue dating you, then the least they can do is come to dinner and meet us.” Her papa reached for the glass tumbler he’d left on the table and downed the remaining contents. “Yes. That’s the perfect idea, Robert. They can court her.”

Chloé’s jaw fell to the floor. “Court me? What is this, the 1950s?”

“No. This is what you get when lie and run around behind our backs.”

“But—”

“This discussion is over, Chloé. If you want to continue seeing them, then we are going to meet them. Take it or leave it.”

This was the last thing she’d expected, but what other choice did she have? She wanted to keep seeing Ethan and Zayne, and the only question was: did they want her enough to go through with this?

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Papa crossed his arms, his stare unwavering.

“Yes, okay. I’ll talk to them and set up dinner or something.”

“You do that. And soon, Chloé. Not in a month, not in six, this weekend.” He turned to the antique bar cart in the living room to pour himself another drink. “That’ll be all.”

In other words: You’re dismissed.

Dad offered up a tight smile, and when her père said nothing, she knew that was her cue to run while she had the chance. She turned and quickly made her way to the stairs, and when she reached the top and pushed open the door to her bedroom, she heard—

“Chloé? Mon ange?”

Her feet came to a halt, and she turned to see her père making his way down the hall.

Damn it, she’d really been hoping to crawl into bed and disappear for the rest of the night. On the plus side, he didn’t look like he wanted to filet her with one of his kitchen knives anymore.

He gestured to her room, and Chloé headed inside with him hot on her heels. He shut the door behind them, and for a second just stood there. His quiet contemplation had her shifting on her feet.

“I’d like to talk to you for a minute before you go to bed.”

“Okay.”

He rubbed his hand over his hair and down to the back of his neck. “I want to start with apologizing for being so…out of sorts with you. Like your dad said, I was in a bit of shock after last night and was still trying to process everything I’d heard.”

“That’s okay, I deserved it. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Non,you shouldn’t have, but I can understand why you did. I probably would’ve done the same, and I know your dad would’ve.” His lips crooked to one side and his dimple appeared, giving him that boyish look he was famous for. “What bothered me the most was what one of your…dates called you.”

Oh God. He didn’t have to say which one. The second the words petite fille had fallen from Ethan’s mouth, her père had gone postal.

“It’s just a term of endearment, Papounet. A nickname. Like dad is princesse.”

“I understand that. I’m just explaining to you that it was difficult to hear it coming out of a man’s mouth toward my daughter.” He let out a sigh. “You are an adult, and as much as it pains me to admit it, you can do whatever you like in your private life. However, you might want to advise him not to use it around us.” Chloé’s cheeks heated, and her père added, “Unless you want your papa to kill him.”

An entirely inappropriate burst of laughter left her, because all she could think about was Zayne and his shotgun theories. Hell, maybe he wasn’t too far off after all.

“Viens ici.” Pèrepulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry about today. I’ll try to be more understanding moving forward.”

She snuggled into his embrace and closed her eyes, finally letting out the breath she’d been holding since she arrived at JULIEN that afternoon.

“I hate when we fight in the kitchen.”

“Me too, mon ange. Me too.” He let her go, and as he disappeared out into the hall, Chloé flopped down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Well, that hadn’t gone how she expected. She’d figured there’d be screaming, crying, and banishing of some kind but…no.

The hard part was over. At least for now. She needed some sleep before she even thought about what she had to do next. Because how did one even go about asking her two doms if they’d come to dinner with her three dads?

She had no idea, but that was a problem for a different day.