Happy 21st birthday a little early. To celebrate your life and film accomplishments, we will be raising a toast to you at 8pm on your birthday at the Joël Robuchon Restaurant in Las Vegas. You are on my thoughts often. I still miss you, and I’ll love you for the rest of my days.
With every ounce of devotion I possess,
Your Tristan
She took a couple deep breaths. He loved her. He had waited for her. She flipped the parchment over looking for any contact information. There was neither postmark nor a stamp. "Libby!" she screamed.
Juliette opened the door and frantically searched. "Libby, were did you get this?"
Libby's eyes innocently widened. "A courier came by right before I gave it to you. Why?"
"Oh, there's no contact info. I thought maybe I could track him down." She held the letter out to Libby.
Libby took it and scanned the words. "Read between the lines, Jules. He gave you an invitation in disguise. He's waiting for you to contact him still, but not pressuring, not outright asking. You're dense, but the ball’s in your court. Go meet the guy." She handed the parchment back.
"Meet him?" Juliette laughed.
“Be happy he sent this. You’re the fool who deleted his number. You’re getting a second chance. I’ve got work to do, so we’ll catch up on this later.” Libby grinned before jogging off to assist in packing some lighting gels.
* * *
Sporting white leather opera gloves with her deep royal blue silk gown, similar in style to a snowy one she had worn so long ago, but with a lower neckline in front to frame the pendant Tristan had given her as a sign of permanent friendship, Juliette paused outside the door, waiting for the attendant to grab the handle for her. Her diamond chandelier earrings reflected every small bit of light shining on them. Her hair had been arranged in a sophisticated French twist, a different look from the romantic curled tendrils she's worn with her white gown.
“Rosalie Laroque? I’m a big fan of yours. Could I get a picture with you?” Without waiting for an answer, a lovely brunette handed her phone to the gentleman beside her.
Juliette leaned closer to her fan and lowered her face just slightly into a much-practiced pose. “I’m late for meeting someone,” she fibbed, “or else I’d stay a minutes. You two have a great night.” Then she rushed into the restaurant before anyone else could hold her up.
She walked straight to the maître'd while watching a clock on the wall. 7:59. If the note was truthful, the man she still loved waited somewhere within the building.
"I'm Juliette St. Claire. I believe the Larocque party is expecting me."
"You look so much like Rosalie Larocque," the maître'd said, referencing her stage name.
"My sister," she fibbed.
The man raised a disbelieving eyebrow but did not challenge her. "Of course, Miss, your sister. Right this way, if you please."
Juliette took a deep breath and pressed a leather-clad hand to her stomach, willing the butterflies to settle. She slowly followed the maître'd to an elegantly appointed room with ivory striped walls and purple velvet furnishings. Those things she barely noticed.
Sitting under a bright crystal chandelier, six people raised their champagne flutes. A familiar pair of sapphire eyes in a head of mahogany ringlets stared directly into hers, toasting her.
Credits
I don’t know how I can possibly appropriately thank everyone who helped me with this book. I’ve met such wonderful people on the way to this point, on top of the lovely people already in my life. So I’ll just pick a starting place.
Thank you to my newest sister, Leila Stanton, for countless hours being a soundboard for ideas for this book and the following two, the ideas for more beyond that, for your thoughts on the backstories that shape each character, making sure the French is correct, reading every single revision of every single chapter, editing, reading more, being blunt when I needed it, more reading, more being a soundboard.... More than anyone else, if you hadn’t been there, this book wouldn’t have happened. Get ready because we’re about to do it all again for Sacred Honor!
Thank you to the peas in a pod for enabling me to have all the time I needed, for being dealing with the tech aspects when I had too much to do at one time, and for telling me to “leave the computer alone” when I would get overly frustrated.
A very special thank you goes to my one and only brother who, even when we were kids, never thought that I couldn’t do whatever I set my mind to, even if I doubted myself at times. I did your book reports in school, and now it’s time you write one for me. Three pages, hand-written, comparing and contrasting your favorite character and your least favorite!
Thank to fellow author Kevin J. Cunningham for verifying locations’ accuracy, getting pics, giving me very helpful input on Alexandra Collins, and for sharing the knowledge you’ve learned along your own writing and publishing journey.
Blair Falcon, Beth Cooper, Elizabeth Dunbar, Grace Campbell, Mandi Rei Serra, Michelle Hauck, T.J. Loveless, and everyone else I know I’m forgetting, thank you for your editing, your thoughts, your reactions to various scenes, publishing and marketing information, and just plain being there when I felt lost in this endless new world.
And I can’t forget a very special thank you to Erika Bester for naming this book. I couldn’t do it. But you did, and it’s perfect.
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