her
family. It’s not like they were together. How would she introduce him? As a
friend? Co-worker, maybe?
They took a taxi to her parents’ home, where they would be
staying. On the plane, Margot taught Quinn a few basic expressions in French.
Things like, hello, goodbye, and I’m sorry for your loss, which was extremely
hard, but he eventually got it. She also explained some of their culture to
him, which was surprisingly interesting. She explained that it is perfectly acceptable
for him just to shake hands. For the most part, only friends and family kiss
each other on the cheeks, but TV makes it seem like they do it to everyone. It
also depended on the person, and how outgoing or comfortable with other people
they were - like when Margot kissed his brothers because she said they were
handsome. She finally cracked a smile when Quinn sent her a dirty look.
The taxi pulled up out front of the Leclair household and
the driver helped Quinn get their bags out of the trunk. Margot tipped the man,
starting for the front door of a beautiful townhouse. He shouldered their bags
and followed. Margot used her key to open the door, and they walked into the
foyer where she told him to set the bags down. Quinn set them down against the wall
next to the door, and followed Margot as she headed into what looked like a
living room.
Sitting on one of the couches was a man, probably about the
same age as Quinn, and a younger girl who was probably about nineteen or
twenty. Both looked remarkably like Margot. They had the same dark hair and
hazel eyes. The younger girl was extremely cute, and the guy was okay looking,
he guessed. Quinn has never made it a point to check out other guys. Margot
never mentioned that she had siblings, but he suspected that’s who these two
were.
“Margot!” the young girl cried as she jumped up off the
couch and ran for her.
Margot hugged the girl as best she could with her crutches
and spoke to her in French. They went back a forth a moment as the man got up
and joined them. He gave Margot a hug and kisses on her cheeks. As Margot
continued to speak with the girl, the man turned his attention to Quinn.
“I am Remi, Margot’s older brother,” he said and held out
his hand.
Quinn shook it. “I’m Quinn.”
Remi smirked. “Ah, yes, Margot has told us about you.”
“Remi,” Margot hissed and slapped his arm.
Quinn raised an eyebrow at her. Margot blushed and smiled
sheepishly at him. “Nothing bad.”
Quinn hummed. He wasn’t quite sure he believed her. Then the
younger girl stepped in front of him, holding out her hand. “I am Colette,
Margot’s sister.”
Quinn shook her hand, also. “Quinn.”
Colette looked
Quinn up and down, murmuring something to Margot in French that had Margot
blushing harder, and her brother rolling his eyes. Quinn hated being left out,
but he probably didn’t want to know what she said.
“Where is Maman?” Margot asked.
“She is upstairs with papa’s things,” Colette sniffed.
A female voice said something in French from behind him.
Quinn turned to see an attractive older woman with short dark hair coming down
the stairs; he could see who Margot and her siblings looked like now. Margot
told him on the plane that her mother spoke very little English, so she would
have to translate for her. She handed Quinn her crutches and hopped on one foot
the couple of feet to reach her mother. They hugged each other tightly and
spoke quietly to each other. Margot turned and held out her hand for her
crutches.
Quinn stepped forward and handed them to her. She stuffed
them under her arms, took Quinn’s hand, and tugged him forward. She introduced
him to her mother in French. The only thing Quinn understood was his first and
last name. The older woman’s eyes flicked to him. She blatantly looked him over
and Quinn tried not to shift uncomfortably under her shrewd gaze. She then held
out her
family. It’s not like they were together. How would she introduce him? As a
friend? Co-worker, maybe?
They took a taxi to her parents’ home, where they would be
staying. On the plane, Margot taught Quinn a few basic expressions in French.
Things like, hello, goodbye, and I’m sorry for your loss, which was extremely
hard, but he eventually got it. She also explained some of their culture to
him, which was surprisingly interesting. She explained that it is perfectly acceptable
for him just to shake hands. For the most part, only friends and family kiss
each other on the cheeks, but TV makes it seem like they do it to everyone. It
also depended on the person, and how outgoing or comfortable with other people
they were - like when Margot kissed his brothers because she said they were
handsome. She finally cracked a smile when Quinn sent her a dirty look.
The taxi pulled up out front of the Leclair household and
the driver helped Quinn get their bags out of the trunk. Margot tipped the man,
starting for the front door of a beautiful townhouse. He shouldered their bags
and followed. Margot used her key to open the door, and they walked into the
foyer where she told him to set the bags down. Quinn set them down against the wall
next to the door, and followed Margot as she headed into what looked like a
living room.
Sitting on one of the couches was a man, probably about the
same age as Quinn, and a younger girl who was probably about nineteen or
twenty. Both looked remarkably like Margot. They had the same dark hair and
hazel eyes. The younger girl was extremely cute, and the guy was okay looking,
he guessed. Quinn has never made it a point to check out other guys. Margot
never mentioned that she had siblings, but he suspected that’s who these two
were.
“Margot!” the young girl cried as she jumped up off the
couch and ran for her.
Margot hugged the girl as best she could with her crutches
and spoke to her in French. They went back a forth a moment as the man got up
and joined them. He gave Margot a hug and kisses on her cheeks. As Margot
continued to speak with the girl, the man turned his attention to Quinn.
“I am Remi, Margot’s older brother,” he said and held out
his hand.
Quinn shook it. “I’m Quinn.”
Remi smirked. “Ah, yes, Margot has told us about you.”
“Remi,” Margot hissed and slapped his arm.
Quinn raised an eyebrow at her. Margot blushed and smiled
sheepishly at him. “Nothing bad.”
Quinn hummed. He wasn’t quite sure he believed her. Then the
younger girl stepped in front of him, holding out her hand. “I am Colette,
Margot’s sister.”
Quinn shook her hand, also. “Quinn.”
Colette looked
Quinn up and down, murmuring something to Margot in French that had Margot
blushing harder, and her brother rolling his eyes. Quinn hated being left out,
but he probably didn’t want to know what she said.
“Where is Maman?” Margot asked.
“She is upstairs with papa’s things,” Colette sniffed.
A female voice said something in French from behind him.
Quinn turned to see an attractive older woman with short dark hair coming down
the stairs; he could see who Margot and her siblings looked like now. Margot
told him on the plane that her mother spoke very little English, so she would
have to translate for her. She handed Quinn her crutches and hopped on one foot
the couple of feet to reach her mother. They hugged each other tightly and
spoke quietly to each other. Margot turned and held out her hand for her
crutches.
Quinn stepped forward and handed them to her. She stuffed
them under her arms, took Quinn’s hand, and tugged him forward. She introduced
him to her mother in French. The only thing Quinn understood was his first and
last name. The older woman’s eyes flicked to him. She blatantly looked him over
and Quinn tried not to shift uncomfortably under her shrewd gaze. She then held
out her
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