CHAPTER TWO

"Hi, Dad," smiled Lucy, kissing her father on the cheek. Violet walked up kissing him on the other, both girls turned, giving Nine a hug. "What brings you guys out here?"

"Lucy, Violet, you know damn good and well why. We heard about the circus convention or competition or whatever the hell it is. No more animals. None. I don't care if it's a damn flea circus. I want nothing else here."

The girls both giggled, shaking their heads.

"Dad, we're good. We know that. Besides, Sniff and Dex went to the fairgrounds yesterday, and it looks as though they're all treated fairly well. I mean, as well as animals in cages can be. They're healthy, fed properly, none seem to be sick or distressed."

"Thank goodness," frowned Nine.

"We know that we're pushing your buttons with all the animals, but just know that we are trying to get them to the point of going back to their own environments. It's just that some won't ever be able to do that," said Violet.

"I know, I know," frowned Gaspar. "You have to know how difficult this is for us old guys. I mean, Mama and apparently Trak are speaking to the gator! Semu signs to everyone and is the self-appointed damn bodyguard for the tigers and the elephant. If I told anyone on the street this, they'd commit me."

"Dad, you're perfectly sane. With all the magic at Belle Fleur, this should be the least surprising thing you hear," smirked Lucy.

"What about the new group of working dogs?" asked Nine, changing the subject.

"Oh, they're spectacular!" said Violet. "We have five Dobermans, eight German shepherds, and three Belgian Malinois'. They're all smart, full of energy, and we've already got departments ready for them. Five will go to the Marines, five will go to NYPD, and the other six are going to various federal agencies. They're going to do a lot of good out there."

"You guys did good," smiled Nine. "I'm proud of all of you."

"Thanks, Uncle Nine," smiled Violet. "One thing we are planning on doing is getting a few horses here just for us. We've always tended them and returned them to their owners or sold them, but we've discovered that they could be helpful in search and rescue. The dogs are used to the ones we currently have, and I think they would be an advantage for us if someone were lost in the bayou or anywhere else."

"I'm cool with that," said Gaspar. Then he looked at his daughters and frowned. "You don't have a fucking unicorn or anything, do you?"

"No, Dad," laughed Lucy. "Not yet." The girls laughed as they walked away from their father, linked arm in arm. Gaspar could not have been prouder of both of them.

"They're good girls, young women," he corrected himself. "You should be proud of them, Gaspar. They're examples of what happens when we do our jobs."

"That's for damn sure. I cringe every time I think about them being sold off as kids. Makes me fucking sick, brother. I'm getting too old to even tolerate shit like that, and I'd damn sure put a bullet in some asshole if I needed to."

"Luckily, we don't have to. Our sons, grandsons, nephews, hell, even the girls are all working to end shit like that," said Nine. "Makes me fucking proud of all of them."

"I heard from Molly and Asia. The shelter is running at capacity every damn night. They have a couple of graduate students from local universities acting as nighttime dorm managers. Some of these kids have homes. They just don't want to go back to them."

"Well, that's not fucking suspicious at all, is it?" frowned Nine. "We can't fix everything. We give these kids a safe space and warm food. Everything else we deal with when we have to."

"We say it all the time. We can't save them all. But kids? I can't imagine being a kid and not wanting to go home," said Gaspar.

"We've seen our fill of those over the decades. I'll never understand why someone has children when they know they won't or can't take care of them. I mean, I get that everyone has a story, but some of these people do it not caring at all."

"Once again, it shows how lucky we are. Mama and Pops didn't have a lot of money when we were kids. I mean, Robicheaux Oil and Gas was still a young, hungry business. Pops was doing alright with it, building it, but there were still fifteen mouths to feed. I'm not even sure how they did it, Nine. I never even asked that question."

"Maybe you don't want to know the answer," he laughed.

"That's the damn truth. I love what we have here. I love that we get to do what we love with the people we love. I don't know how long it will last, but can I pray for forever?" he smirked.

"I damn sure am," laughed Nine. "Come on. Let's go see how the other businesses are doing. We didn't get a chance to check in on the spa or Gwen the other day."

"That's good. Turn, please," said Gwen, smiling at the young woman. "Lovely. I think we need to hem it up just a half of an inch and maybe pull the shoulders up a bit."

"No," said the young girl. "I like the way the shoulders fall and show my cleavage."

Gwen smiled at the young woman, looking at her mother and future mother-in-law. The bride-to-be was twenty-three, headstrong, and determined to show the assets that God and her mother had given her.

She'd demanded see-through panels on the front of the dress, allowing her guests to see her flesh beneath. The shoulders were narrow straps of lace that fell on her shoulder bones, revealing a full cleavage view nearly to the center of her abdomen.

"Cherise, I understand what you're looking for, but this dress is not going to stay up. You're going to have to practically glue it on in order not to fall out of it. Sometimes, less is more, but in this case, more is more," smiled Gwen.

"I want what I want!" said the young woman.

"I get it," said Gwen. "Truly, I do. But we're entering into precarious territory here, and I'm not sure it's my territory."

"What do you mean?" asked the mother.

"I mean, this is not the type of garment I put my name on," said Gwen calmly with a smile. "My gowns are very different than this for a reason. I'm all about giving brides a choice in their gowns. It's your day, but I'm also here to advise you on what would be appropriate or not. Imagine how your future husband, father-in-law, or father might feel seeing this."

"Are saying you won't finish my gown!" yelled the young woman. Gwen calmly stood, no longer smiling.

"I'm saying this is not a gown that will leave my studio. A wedding should be a celebration of your femininity, not your sexuality. Save the lingerie for your wedding night, not down the aisle. You don't have to dress demurely or like a nun, but you should want to keep a few surprises for the groom."

"Oh, my God," laughed Cherise. "You cannot be serious. We've lived together for almost two years. There are no surprises."

"That's a shame," frowned Gwen. "Then what is there to share on your wedding night if there are no surprises between the two of you?"

The mother stared at her daughter, the mother-in-law not saying anything.

"I'm going to grab some tea for all of us," said Gwen. "Anna will help you remove the gown."

Gwen stepped down the hallway and into the small kitchen, taking deep breaths. She wasn't worried about losing the account. She made more than enough on designs and gowns that were not bridal.

What she struggled with was the young woman not realizing that twenty years from now, she'd look at those photos and hate the choice she made. She'd seen it so many times it made her heart break. Keep it simple. Keep it elegant. But most of all, keep it true to yourself.

She heard conversation down the hall, then shouting, and rushed back to the fitting room.

"What on earth is going on? I have other clients here," said Gwen. "Respect them."

"You've made them question my dress!" yelled the young bride. The mother and mother-in-law blushed, staring at the girl.

"We've tried to tell her before that she's going to regret this. Thank you for saying what we were afraid to, Gwen. Cherise don't do this. You'll regret the dress. You can't even wear panties with it the way you've had it cut up. The slit is all the way to your hip bone, and the front and back panels are sheer."

"I'll wear a thong, Mother."

"A thong? So that everyone in the church will see? No. No way. Have you even mentioned any of this to Bradley? I know he wouldn't want this. He's a very modest man," said her future mother-in-law.

Nine and Gaspar heard the commotion and stood in the doorway looking at the young woman. Both men frowned.

"Look! There! See, those two men like the dress, don't you?"

"Nope," said Nine.

"Not even a little," said Gaspar. "No offense, Gwen."

"None taken. It wasn't my original design. She'd started with someone else and came to me to finish it. But this isn't something I can finish," said Gwen.

"I can't believe you don't like this," said the young woman, stomping her foot. "It's sexy and enticing."

"Your future husband already knows that about you. You don't have to advertise it to everyone. If I saw my future wife wearing that, I'd turn and walk away. I'm not lying. I would walk in the opposite direction and not look back. It's not sexy. It's trashy."

The young woman screamed like a petulant child, ripping at the dress, tearing it from her body. Gwen just watched, raising her brows at her mother and mother-in-law. When the girl was finished, she stood in only her panties and no bra. Nine and Gaspar didn't even blink.

"See. Now we've seen what your fiancé has. No secrets. Might as well photograph it all and put it on the internet. I'm sure he'd love that," said Nine.

"What? No. Don't be stupid! I wouldn't do that."

"But someone at your wedding will. They'll film the whole wedding and put it on the internet talking about the bride that showed more on her wedding day than on her honeymoon. They'll send it out to the world for everyone to see and judge. Comments will flood into the stream, people making fun of you and your husband, and in the end, the person who will be hurt the most is you."

Slowly, her arms came up, covering her breasts. Anna, Gwen's assistant, brought out a silk robe and slid it over her shoulders. The young woman turned, walking back into the dressing room.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," said the mother. "I'll talk to her."

"I'm sorry, too," said Gwen. "She's ruined any hope of turning that gown into something wearable. You're one month out from her wedding. I hate to say this, but I can't help you. She's going to have to buy a gown off the rack somewhere else."

"God," muttered the future mother-in-law. "I'm going to call Bradley."

"I'll handle it from here, Gwen," said Anna. She nodded at the woman and walked out of the fitting room with Nine and Gaspar.

"Sorry you guys had to see that. Welcome to the world of bridezillas."

"Business must be good if you're not worried about losing that client," said Gaspar.

"Business is amazing. It's not the bridal gowns that keep me in business. It's all of my authentic indigenous designs. My bridal business is small, and normally, I only do it for people I truly know. Her mother called, panicked. Rightfully so. She'd worked with someone else and kept making her cut it lower or higher. There was hardly anything left to work with."

"What is wrong with her?" asked Nine.

"She's insecure," said Gwen. Both men stared at her, then back down the hallway.

"She believes her beauty and self-worth are tied to her body, that's why she's desperate to show it to the world. I worry that her fiancé has made her feel that way. He's much older than she is. At least fifteen years from what the mother said. He might feel some pride in snagging the younger, hot chick in the room."

"Well, hopefully, they figure it out," said Nine. "Everything else is good. No issues?"

"No issues," she said, frowning.

"What? What is that face?" asked Gaspar.

"Well, it's just weird. I have a bin out back that I put scraps of fabric in. It's really not much of anything. Pieces that I can't make anything from, but it's good for someone wanting patch material or something to make a patchwork quilt."

"Okay," they nodded.

"Anyway, usually, the women's shelter will pick it up, but they said the last few times it's been empty. Someone is taking the scraps, but the guys don't see anyone on camera."

"That's fucking weird," frowned Nine. "I'll see what we can find out for you. Good luck with her."

"Thanks," she smirked. "I think I'm very glad I had a son."

By the time they made it to the spa, it was almost the end of the day. Keegan, Winter, and Ramey were sitting in the kitchen space, happy to be rid of their last client.

"Hi, ladies," smiled Gaspar. "Just checking in with everyone."

"Hi. What a nice surprise," smiled Keegan. "You guys want a massage? Maybe a manicure or pedicure?"

"No. I'm good," smiled Nine. "Everything okay here?"

"Perfect. We finished the last client, and she's finally gone. What a stressful appointment for all of us."

"A problem client?"

"Let's just say she came in with a picture of a movie star forty years younger than she is and was demanding we make her look just like her. Her fiftieth high school reunion is this weekend."

"Fifty!" said Gaspar.

"How did it go?" asked Nine.

"As expected. Her hair and nails looked great, but you can't restore youthful skin in two hours, or lose forty pounds of weight. I feel bad for her, but she's really abused her body. We preach it all the time to women about using sunscreen, wearing hats, making sure that they're really taking care of their skin. You only get one shot unless you're very wealthy and can afford injections, surgeries, and other things."

"That's sad," said Gaspar. "Everything else okay? Do you ladies need anything?"

"We might want to look at some additional cameras on the outside of the building," said Winter.

"Is someone bothering you?" frowned Nine.

"No, nothing like that. It's just that we get deliveries that come really early in the morning sometimes. Things like rubber gloves for the hair dye, new gowns for our spa treatments, that sort of thing. We had a case of new blankets and robes disappear, and it showed that it was delivered. The driver always takes a pic of the delivery."

"What the hell," muttered Gaspar. "Gwen experienced something similar. No attempts at break-in, no vandalism, just some petty theft. Hers wasn't even brand new. It was scraps of cloth."

"That's very strange," frowned Ramey. "Maybe the guys could check the cameras again, and we can see where this stuff went."

"We'll take care of it. See you all at dinner," smiled Gaspar, giving them a hug.

"Why does it always smell so amazing in here? Every time I come in here, I just want to curl up and take a nap or something," said Nine. The girls laughed, shaking their heads.

"We have our own signature scent filtered throughout the spa, as well as candles and diffusers. It immediately helps clients to relax, as you've noted. You can buy the candles if you ever want some in your own house." The two men nodded, heading toward the door.

"We're locking up," said Winter. "We can walk with you to the cafeteria." Nine smiled at the ladies.

"Now that's an offer I can't refuse."