“Ha! Justin was so proud that his cousin was there; thank them again for me, because it meant the world to my son. I wish you’d been there, too.”

“Next time, sis. You know that family has to support one another. By the time Justin makes it to the NFL, I’ll need him to support me!” The sisters laughed. “I haven’t heard you this happy in a long time, Nikki. It warms my heart. So ... when are we going to meet the big fella?”

Aaron and Michael had met Jake after the game, but he would be the first man Dominique would officially introduce to the family since the disaster called Kevin. Yet she answered with no hesitation. “How about this Sunday?”

The next few hours passed quickly and soon Dominique was on her way to Sunset Boulevard and her luncheon appointment with Mirabelle’s contact, the man who was supposed to be her saving grace, should she go toe-to-toe with François in a Capricious showdown.

Dominique walked confidently to the swanky eatery that had been all the rage since it made its debut last year on Los Angeles’s Westside. She’d visited the establishment a few times: once for a friend’s birthday, another time for a benefit, and again on a sorta kinda blind date. On those occasions she’d admired the establishment’s maître d’ from a distance. Not only was he efficient in this position but he was also very easy on the eyes. Who knew that now, more than six months later, their paths would cross professionally.

She stepped inside and announced herself to the gorgeous redhead who greeted her. A few moments later she was escorted upstairs to the small yet luxuriously appointed offices. Her savior sat behind the desk, looking like a Michelangelo masterpiece. Upon her entrance, he rose and walked to her with arms outstretched.

“Dominique, it is my pleasure.” He air-kissed each side of her face.

“Mr. Marquis, the pleasure is mine.”

“Please, call me Xavier.” He led her to a sitting area opposite the black ebony desk that anchored one side of the room. “For you Americans it’s early for drinking but we French rarely dine without embellishment. May I offer you a glass of champagne?”

“One small one,” Dominique answered, emphasizing small with her thumb and forefinger.

Xavier pushed the intercom button and after informing the waiter of his request returned his attention to Dominique. “Mirabelle says you have a bit of a ... situation, no?”

“How much of it did she share with you?”

“All of it. But I’d very much like to hear your perspective.”

For the next hour, between delicious bites of tapas-style soul food dishes that the establishment, Tosts, was known for, Dominique shared her point of view. Marquis asked a few intelligent, pointed questions but mostly he listened—intently.