‘All right, Benny?’ Rhett offers with an annoyingly wide grin.
‘My name is Benoît, as well you know,’ my cousin retorts imperiously. His airs are often so high-handed, I sometimes think he forgets exactly who’s in charge. Which, I suppose, is not so very difficult to understand given he was always more involved in the business. And, much like myself, he was deceived in how things would eventually play out.
‘You prefer Benoît, do you, Benny?’ Rhett’s brows retract to his hairline as though this is news, rather than one more thing he can do to irritate the man he likes least in the whole of Monaco. ‘Well, blow me. Not an invitation by the way.’
‘Not an invit—are you suggesting I am homosexual?’
‘Calmez-vous,’ I interject. I could well do without the whole pistols at dawn scene. ‘Rhett isn’t suggesting anything.’
‘No offence, man.’ He grins, juggling the spherical snacks between his hands. ‘Here, Benny. You should try these. I guarantee these are the best tasting balls you’ll ever have in your mouth.’
‘Arrêtte.’ Enough. One glance at Rhett’s supposed innocent expression makes me shake my head. What can I say? Rhett is Rhett while Ben is an uptight, supercilious pain in my ass. But he’s also family, and unlike my father, I intend to make that count. ‘What is it you wanted, ma cousine?’ I slip my hand around his shoulders, directing our footsteps in the direction of the door.
‘Your mother wanted me to remind you to sign off on the security for the Loup Foundation benefit ball.’
‘She has already. You know she can use email? She has even mastered the art of the smartphone. She also has a full-time assistant on staff. No need to offer your services as messenger.’
‘I was merely being courteous. Tante Josephine is not the sort of woman you can ignore.’
This might be true but that’s not why he’s here. No, not at all.
‘Also, my assistant tells me there is some confusion in one of the departments. HR, I believe. It seems some idiot has taken on a new hire who can’t speak a word of French.’
And there we have it. For a company of this size, very little gets past Ben.
‘Why is that a problem?’ I ask evenly. ‘The team speaks many languages. We have clientele from over thirty countries. And though you and I may be French, we are not speaking the language now.’
English is my preference, as well as my custom when Rhett is around. In fact, I’ve been speaking English so long, I no longer dream in French. Ben, meanwhile, prefers to speak in riddles, mainly to ascertain information; information being the currency he thrives on.
‘Yes, but Industries du Loup is a French company—in France.’
‘I’m almost certain Prince Albert would have something to say about that.’ Prince Albert being the country’s monarch, and Monaco being a small city state and a country all of its own.
‘Monaco is a French-speaking country,’ Ben retorts, the edges of his exasperation showing. ‘That is what I mean. You can’t work in Monaco if you don’t possess the language.’
‘There are many residents without command of the language,’ I argue reasonably.
‘The wealthy, yes. Monaco is a tax haven for those rich enough who may not care to speak French. But the ordinary working man?’ He shoots me a triumphant look. ‘One must question why they are here in this case.’
‘What about you, Rhett?’ I ask without turning to look at him. ‘Why are you here?’
‘To keep your arse out of trouble,’ comes his response. ‘And funny, here I thought I had a pretty decent command of the language.’
‘If a little butchering,’ I throw over my shoulder. ‘Have this woman sent to my office,’ I direct Ben.
‘Who said it was a woman?’ Ben turns to face me as we reach the door.
‘Come, now. You expect me to believe it was a man who caught your attention?’
Ben’s gaze slides to Rhett, and with eyes narrowed, he responds, ‘You know me well.’
‘I like to think so.’
‘She’s a very pretty girl,’ he accepts as his attention returns. ‘And Remy, I saw her first.’
It’s an assertion I’ll allow him to keep on believing. For all of us.
‘I’m not interested in making a conquest of a new hire. Have her sent to my office. Let me get to the bottom of this.’
Ben frowns, then consents with a perfectly Gallic shrug. The door is no sooner closed behind him when Rhett speaks again.
‘Must be the only bit of her you haven’t had.’
‘Ta gueule.’ Shut it. ‘Also, leave.’
‘What, and miss the fireworks?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I answer, my tone bored.
There will be no fireworks. The plan mustn’t change. Rose might not be the woman I thought she was, but whatever has passed between us, she’s here at my behest. And here she’ll stay until I discover why my father sought to involve her in our family politics.