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"Why's he being so weird about his secret girlfriend?" Estelle whispers.

I'm helping her prep dinner. I was wrong about most of the stuff she was cooking. For lunch, we have a few smaller foods we can peck at like birds. A cheese tray, some meats and vegetables and nuts. Estelle's been slaving away over dinner since the crack of dawn. She refuses to let me help her. Even now, as I've just finished setting the table and she is rapidly stirring gravy on the stove. Everything should be good to go in a minute.

I laugh, "you've met my siblings. Wouldn't you want to hide your relationship from them?"

This is Estelle's first-time meeting Caro. Of course, she's seen Bastien, more in passing than Stéphane. Still, she must be able to tell how annoyingly invasive they are. Caro told Spencer that she and I have similar hands, so if he wants to pick out a ring soon she's around to offer help. Bastien keeps stealing Caro's wine, since she could be pregnant, and I think she's going to deck him soon. He's getting progressively drunker, but we're getting food in him in less than ten minutes so it's fine. I'm not able to hide my dislike for Cletus, even if everyone else has gotten over the hump of hatred. So like, of course Stéphane doesn't want us to meet his girlfriend.

Spencer isn't quite my boyfriend though, so this is fine.

"They've been together for like, most of a year or something, right?" Estelle asks. "Do you think he's playing her? He's twenty-nine so she must be expecting something serious. Unless she's younger. Do you think he's dating like, a twenty-two year old? That would be so gross."

"Stéphane wouldn't date someone younger than Bastien," I roll my eyes. Then, I shrug, "maybe he's gay, Estelle. Just because Bastien's out, doesn't mean Stéphane feels good about it. I don't know."

Estelle takes her hands off the gravy to crack her knuckles then goes back to madly stirring.

I tell everyone to start to move toward the table, since dinner will be ready soon. The large dining room table was a must, even if there usually aren't more than three people eating here at once. We'll be able to serve ourselves there. I swear someone is going to knock over a wine glass and stain the white linen. Or worse. I told Estelle fake candles would be better, but apparently, I don't understand atmosphere. This might be true. I write like an academic.

I head to the bathroom, since it feels like there is something between my teeth. The door is slightly ajar. My hands push on the wood, and on the other side stands Caro. She quickly dabs at her face, turning away from me.

"Caroline," I manage her name, stepping in the door and shutting it firmly behind me. I'm not thrilled at the idea of leaving Spencer alone with my brothers and Cletus, but I look at Caro carefully.

Most of her face is visible because of the mirror, though she has her back turned to me. Her mascara is streaking under her eyes as she bows her head. I open the cabinet, pulling out some cotton pads and passing them to her. Carefully, she pats under her eyes. Only then does she spin to see me. Her face is bright red, despite the foundation she wears, and it is almost puffy.

"It's not Cletus."

We're Bouchards. Practiced liars, rotten at it.

"Caroline Julie Josee-"

"It's not Cletus," she chokes. "I knew you'd assume that because you're only just starting to come around to him, but it's not him."

I scowl, crossing my arms over my chest. The bastard is in my dining room, about to eat my food, and Caro is crying in front of me. If I could get away with it, I'd kill him.

COVERT : Spencer Reid (II)Where stories live. Discover now