Page 26 of The Child of Rue Royale
“God knows you can use more laughs,” she chirped, crossing her legs.
“That is the truth.”
We watched as Bastian flirted with a woman next to him, his smooth talk holding her captive. He met my eyes and grinned, excusing himself from the woman, and sat next to myself and Nicola.
“Your friend has a way with the ladies,” Nicola said as she smiled warmly at Bastian.
He sighed. “Well, they love me until they don’t anymore. And then they hate me.”
I sneered, side-eyeing him as I pulled from my cigarette.
“Are you looking to marry, Cassius? Or do you enjoy living the life of a bachelor?” Bastian asked.
Nicola laughed, but I took the question seriously. “I’m not the marrying type. This building, she’s my wife. I love her dearly.”
“Too bad she’s mine.” Nicolalaughs, tapping her high-heeled foot back and forth. “What about you dear, are you the marrying type?”
Bastian looked to the ceiling then around the room at the various couples dancing, a group of women giggling with each other. “Well, yes. I’m sure I am. Because there’s one thing I do want. More than anything.”
“What’s that?” I asked, my curiosity peaked.
“To be a father.”
My eyes flew to Nicola’s as her eyebrows rose in astonishment. “A father? How noble.” There was a hint of condescension in her voice as Bastian shrugged, and I gave her a hard glare for making him feel foolish.
“My father is cruel. I would like to show him how a real father should be.”
“So, a ploy to get back at him?” Her tone was curt, and I growled at a decimal only she could hear.
“No,” he said earnestly. “Well, I mean. Maybe. But that’s only part of it. I want the father-son relationship I couldn’t have. And since I can never be close to my father, I can be close to my son.”
“It’s an admirable idea, Bastian,” I said to reassure him. Even though I felt the opposite. There was no way I’d bring a child into the world after the cruelty my father bestowed upon me. Abandoned me. Left me an orphan to survive by myself in a city where it was easier to die than survive.
“Honey, you want to be a father. Take my advice. Stop drinking.”
Bastian looked at her as if she had shot him through the heart. But instead of allowing anger to consume him, he only nodded as if defeated.
“It’s a pursuit I can’t seem to triumph.” At that, he raised his glass, smiled a devastating smile, and walked back to the bar.
“You don’t have to be rude to the poor soul,” I charged, and she uncrossed her legs, leaning in to point a finger at me.
“That poor boy is going to die on these streets, and you better start preparing for that. I would end him myself if I could endure the stench of his blood.”
I slammed my glass on the table, but she didn’t so much as flinch. Just puffed on her cigarette as Piano Jack took to the mini stage. Standing, I straightened my tie as she looked up at me.
“I love you, my boy. Collecting a pathetic puppy will only hurt you more.”
“He’s more than that,” I said just as Bastian strode past us, sitting next to Piano Jack.
The keys struck loudly, the sound strummed through the bar, and Bastian clapped his hands next to our new resident musician as a crowd gathered.
Bastian sang at the top of his lungs in a way that brought laughter and dancing, his charm making people feel free, comfortable, and at ease. My mother’sface turned up at the sight, at how people were so naturally drawn to him. How the crowd only grew closer and closer and sang along with him as he danced and sang and laughed.
She looked at me then, as if she finally saw what I had seen the very first night I met him. And she bowed her head, joining in the chorus, singing and swaying with Bastian as he took her hand and danced with her, her laugh the loudest I had heard in months.
“THOUGHT YOU COULD USE THIS,” Chantal says, handing me a mug of tea, her face freezing when I look up. “Is everything okay?”
“He wanted to be father, Chantal. He wanted a son, to right the wrongs of how his father treated him.”
