Quarter to Midnight (A New Orleans Novel Book 1)

Gabe stood and tapped his glass with a spoon. “Can I have your attention, please?”

The crowd filling the Choux immediately quieted, all eyes turning toward him, and Gabe couldn’t contain his smile. They had a full house, and it was a very special day.

Molly was here, of course, with Burke, Antoine, Val, Lucien, and Joy. Even Phin had joined them, looking a little uncomfortable at the size of the group. Molly had promised Phin that he could leave the moment he needed to, but he was still here, an hour after the party had started.

Xavier, Cicely, Carlos, and Willa Mae were here—Xavier and Carlos having flown into New Orleans the night before. It was fall break for their universities, which was why they’d set the party today.

André, Farrah, and J. P. Cardozo were here, along with most of both André’s and Farrah’s extended families. And there were a lot of them. It made Gabe’s heart happy.

Patty was here with her parents and Aunt Gigi. His cousin had been going to therapy religiously, as had Gabe. They still weren’t completely over the events of the summer, but they were improving at managing their guilt over the innocent people who’d been hurt or killed. Fortunately, Harry Peterson, the ME’s assistant, had recovered and was recently back at work. It turned out that Harry was caring for a younger brother and Nicholas Tobin had lured Harry home that day by telling him that his brother was hurt. Thankfully, both were now okay and here today.

And, also thankfully, the families of Dr. McLain and Dusty Woodruff didn’t blame them. Gabe was grateful, but there were too many days when he still blamed himself. The therapist had assured him and Patty that forgiving themselves would come with time.

Nancy Royce was here, too. She and Xavier had met up over breakfast at Gabe’s house before the Houston folks had left back in July. There hadn’t been a dry eye in the house.

Chelsea and Harper were here, Harper looking adorable in her chef’s jacket and hat. She was also still in therapy, and her smiles were coming more frequently these days. She, Molly, and Chelsea had moved out of his house a month after the night their home was invaded, having bought a house close to Gabe’s. Chelsea had found a job, and Harper was a natural in the kitchen, even helping with today’s feast.

And, speaking of helpers… “Manny, does everyone have a glass?”

“Yes, Chef,” Manny said crisply, having found his niche after years of working jobs he didn’t love. He’d had a line job at a factory before they’d laid him off. He’d been all too happy to quit his night job at the Houston convenience store. The man was a fantastic cook, and Gabe had taken him on as his apprentice. Manny now lived in a little hole-in-the-wall apartment in the Quarter.

“Thank you.” Gabe drew a breath, bolstering himself because there was one person who was not with them. “I want to thank all of you for coming to help me celebrate what would have been my father’s fifty-eighth birthday.” He swallowed hard, trying to fight the rise of emotion, then giving up. “He would have loved seeing you all here. He would have hated that you were all here to honor him.”

Patty and her parents choked on a laugh. “That’s totally true,” his aunt Viola called out.

“My dad was the best of men. He fought for the underdog and gave his life getting justice for Nadia Hall. I hate that Nadia suffered. I hate that my dad suffered. I hate that innocent people suffered. But those events have brought us together, and I believe, with all my heart, that Rocky Hebert would have been happy to see us together today.” Gabe lifted his glass. “To Rocky Hebert.”

“To Rocky,” came the boisterous response.

Xavier lifted his hand. “I’m truly grateful to be here. I’ve been fortunate in my life to have had so many people to save me. Rocky on that night in Katrina, of course, but also my birth mother, who gave her life to save mine. Then there’s my mom here”—he put his arm around Cicely’s shoulders, stooping to kiss her cheek, which was already streaked with tears—“and my dad, who’s not here to see this, but he’d have been so happy. And Carlos, who’s been my brother since the day I punched his face in the first grade. But also all of you. When I needed help, you all… helped.” His voice broke and he cleared it. “So I thank you… from the bottom of my heart.”

Murmurs of aw rippled through the crowd and Gabe smiled through his own tears. He lifted his glass again. “To Xavier Morrow—my new brother, my father’s second son.”

Xavier shook his head, swiping his wet face with the back of his hand. “Dammit, Gabe.” But he was smiling, too.

“I think that’s enough emotion for now,” Gabe said. “There’s food and drinks, and I want everyone to have a good time.” He waved at the zydeco band set up in the corner—old friends of his father’s from the NOPD—and the air was filled with music.

Gabe turned to find Molly by his side. She brought his head down for a lusty kiss that drew catcalls and shouts of “Get a room!”

Feeling his cheeks heat, Gabe kissed her back. “How was that?” he asked.

She grinned up at him. “The kiss or your speech?”

“Both.”

“A-plus. Now I have to get some of that cake before Chelsea and Joy eat it all.” She started to pull away, but Gabe tugged her back.

“I can make you cake any day of the week. Stay with me.”

She slid her arm around his waist. “You okay?” she asked, perceptive as always.

He hesitated. “I think so?”

She looked up at him, concern in those blue-green eyes he’d come to love. “What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know. Everything is… good.”

“Ah.” She nodded knowingly. “ ‘The other shoe’ syndrome.”

Gabe laughed. “The other Choux? Like my restaurant?”

She poked him lightly in the gut. “No, the s-h-o-e, and not your dog. I mean you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it might. Then again, it might not.” She shrugged. “Either way, you’re not alone.”

As always, she knew exactly what to say, and it loosened the thing he’d needed to say. “Tobin was supposed to go on trial next week.” But the bastard had just cut a deal. Twenty-five years in prison without the possibility of parole. He deserved life behind bars. He deserved death.

It was hard to be okay with that kind of a deal.

She sighed. “I thought you might be bothered by that. The way I look at it is that his testimony, along with your father’s evidence and the murder of Ducote, put Cresswell away for life. And when Tobin gets out of prison, he’ll be eligible for social security.”

“It’s not long enough.”

“No, but he might not live that long anyway. He’ll be meeting a lot of people inside those prison walls that he helped his daddy put there. And Cresswell? I don’t give him much time at all.”

Gabe frowned. “Is it bad that this makes me feel better?”

“Nope. Makes you human.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Makes me love you.”

He settled again, her words the balm he’d needed. “I love you, too.”

The words were new. They’d exchanged them for the first time only a few weeks before. It had been a relief to say them out loud.

A clearing throat had them looking to where Willa Mae stood, her brows arched and a smug smile on her face. “I want an invitation to the wedding.”

“Wedding?” Cicely all but squealed.

“Shh,” Molly said. “Hush, y’all. He hasn’t asked me yet.”

“But he will,” Willa Mae said with a hard nod.

Gabe was unable to hold back his grin. This was a happiness that he’d never expected to feel, and the anxiety he’d felt about Tobin’s deal was already a bad memory. “If it happens”—he so wanted it to happen, but he was trying not to rush—“how about we record the askin’ and the yessin’ and send it over to you?”

“You’d better, young man,” Willa Mae said, then surprised him with a hug that nearly crushed his ribs. “Thank you for closing your restaurant to give us this wonderful day.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he said sincerely. “Maybe we’ll make it a yearly thing.”

Cicely looked over at Manny, who was lifting Harper so that she could reach the éclairs on the top tier of the pastry stand. “I’m so happy that he’s found his place.”

“Me, too,” Gabe said. “He’s really an excellent cook.” And one day would make an excellent assistant manager. One who Gabe could trust.

“Ah, who have we here?” Aunt Gigi stopped next to the two Houston women. “We have not yet met. I am Gabriel’s tante Gigi. I couldn’t help but overhear something about a wedding?”

“I’m Willa Mae Collins, and this is Cicely Morrow,” Willa Mae said.

Gigi bobbed her head. “The ladies from Houston. I’ve heard so much about you. What’s this about a wedding?”

“We’ll fill you in,” Cicely promised.

And, just like that, the three became co-conspirators in his and Molly’s love life. The women walked away, discussing all kinds of wedding things.

“Sorry,” he said to Molly with a wince, but she was grinning.

“For what? Promising to propose to me on video someday?”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re going to have no peace at all. You know that, right?”

Molly bumped his hip with hers. “Peace is highly overrated. I’ll take this life we’ve made any day of the week.”