False Pretenses by Kathy Herman Read Free Book Online Page B

special ingredient?”
    Pierce kept smiling and said nothing.
    “You’re not going to tell me?”
    He shook his head. “It’ll be more fun if you don’t know. And it’ll add to the intrigue if you get asked.” He took her hands in his. “Zoe, I think I finally nailed it. Come on, taste it.”
    Had she ever seen him this confident before? This delighted with himself? He was almost giddy.
    She took a tasting spoon out of the drawer, dipped it into the pot of simmering gumbo, and blew on it for a few seconds, then slowly sipped the gumbo and savored it. “Oh my … this is amazing!”
    “Then you can taste the difference?”
    “Definitely. I can’t identify what it is, but it’s distinct. And wonderful. I think Marie Nadeau is about to be dethroned, and I’m not just saying that. This is the best gumbo I’ve ever tasted.”
    Pierce picked her up off the ground and spun her around. “I’m so excited, babe. I always dreamed of being a chef, but winning the Gumbo Classic and getting to display the Copper Ladle on the wall—well, that would be more than I ever dreamed possible. But whether I win or not, thanks for believing in me. You always have, and it means everything. You, Madame Broussard, are the other half of my heart. You know that, right?”
    She did know that. And it worked both ways. Each had so much invested in the other. What if her deception had put all that in jeopardy?
    “You know I feel the same. You’ve always been there for me, too.” Always.
    God, I know what I did was wrong, but I had to keep it from Pierce. Please don’t let him find out. It’ll break his heart.

    Vanessa parked her Honda Odyssey in front of Langley Manor and rolled down the windows, taking in the humid summer breeze thick with a sweet fragrance she had noticed before but couldn’t identify. Glints of sunlight filtered through a basket weave of live oak branches. And somewhere in the forest the jackhammer-like sound of a busy woodpecker echoed off the trees.
    It was peaceful out here—so peaceful it seemed almost ridiculous to believe that a strange man had gotten into the house uninvited. Or that a sole lemon drop should be sufficient grounds for a sheriff’s investigation. Could Carter have imagined the man in the closet? It was certainly possible, but she had no intention of going inside the house by herself.
    The mansion’s stately pillars were stained with two decades of mildew, but it wasn’t hard to envision how magnificent this family heirloom would be after it was washed down with bleach and given a fresh coat of white paint. How much more difficult would the refurbishing task be if Ethan’s great-grandparents hadn’t replaced the columns or the exterior wood? Or if Ethan’s dad and uncles hadn’t seen to it that the exterminators came out four times a year, even when the house sat empty? Replacing the roof would be the easiest task, remodeling the interior the most creative.
    Vanessa sighed. With so much to look forward to, why was she longing for Sophie Trace and the tree-covered foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains? Was it the absence of family and close friends that weighed heavily on her this morning? Or was it that she had nothing to do while Carter was in preschool two days a week? She missed teaching first grade, but it was impractical for her to go back to it with this renovation about to start. Ethan was counting on her to juggle the details and oversee the process, and she was eager to do it. So why was she feeling this way?
    Vanessa folded her hands on the steering wheel and rested her chin on them. Perhaps it was because she felt like an outsider here. As nice as Pierce and Zoe were, they and the entire Cajun community in Les Barbes were a family unto themselves. Could she and Ethan ever hope to be regarded as anything other than descendants of the British Langleys, who had looked down their noses at the Cajuns?
    She could still see the indignant expression on Pierce’s face when he spoke