Alex in Wonderland (The Wonderland Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

question and got
shakily to his feet. "I'm outta here." To his surprise, Jacques
demurred.
    "As you wish." Jacques
opened the front door and swung the gate wide, but Alex's feet took him no
further than the foyer. He froze and faced his host with a desperately lost
look. "Are you alright, Alex?"
    "No," Alex confessed.
"I'm not."
    "Would you like a cup of
coffee?"
    "Yes, thanks. I believe I
would.  
    Afterwards, Alex could never
explain why he stayed for coffee or, more significantly, why he spent the next
two hours confessing things to a stranger he'd never been able to admit to
himself, a lengthy, painful litany of fears and anxieties about being
homosexual. All he knew for sure was
that the more he talked, the less frightened he was and the more relieved he
felt. At fifty-two, the world-wise Jacques had enough experience to be a solid
father confessor with all the right answers. He was also tenacious and wouldn’t
budge when he believed Alex was being evasive or dishonest. Although utterly
sympathetic, he kept hammering away at Alex’s tightly-sealed Pandora’s box
until the air swarmed with all sorts of nasty gay bugaboos. Certainly all of
the old emotional dilemmas weren't resolved in one night, but Alex acquired a
much clearer idea of who he really was and what he wanted from life.
    For that he would be forever grateful to Jacques Menard.
    Alex had been so totally immersed in his unexpected confessions that he
forgot how he had gotten there until Jacques walked him to the door. “Whatever
happened to Tatiana?”
    Jacques chuckled. “I always told her she’d be late for her own funeral.
Wait right here.”
    Alex watched Jacques race up the grand staircase and disappear behind
the glittering chandelier. When Tatiana returned, he squinted in an effort to
focus and wondered if the coffee had sobered him after all.
    “What the—?”
    “Hello, darling!” Jacques called in his best Russian accent. He was
poised midway on the stairs with black hat and veil back in place. Chanel pumps
restored a height Alex noticed when they met. “Tatiana Yussupov. Late of St.
Petersburg, and I don’t mean Florida, honey.”
    A smile crept across Alex’s face as he realized he’d been had.   “Well, I’ll be double damned!”  
    Jacques curtsied grandly and blew him a kiss.   “No more secrets, eh, mon ami ?”
    Alex shook his head, fuzzier than ever from the pepper vodka. “So
Tatiana doesn’t exist and no one lived in St. Petersburg?”
    “Or Paris, although I’ve spent beaucoup time in both places.
That helped with the research.” Jacques tossed the hat and veil aside. “The
truth is most of my friends call me Jolie.”
    Alex’s head was exploding with questions. “So you went to the Palamara
party… dressed as a woman?”
    Jolie grinned. “You can call it drag if you like. It’s something I do
occasionally to amuse my uptown friends. Not all of those Garden District folks
are stuffy, you know. Some of them are great fun, in fact, and this is our
little way of making a harmless tweak and having a royal good time. They love
taking me to snotty parties and introducing me as an obscure Rumanian Grand
Duchess or Lady Edwina Pomegranate-Jones-Hyde-White or some such silliness.
There’s always some bourbon-soaked dowager or her pompous prick of a husband
who wet their pants at the thought of meeting nobility, and I absolutely adore
playing the role.” When Alex still looked baffled, Jolie said, “There’s also
another reason I do it, of course.”
    “What’s that?”
    “The same reason a dog licks himself, dear boy. Because he can!” He
roared at his own bad joke before adding, “The truth is I’m just a plain old
Cajun lad, and to paraphrase Auntie Mame’s bosom buddy Vera Charles, ‘When you
come from Bellefleur, Louisiana, you have to do something !’”

6
    Home Coming

 
    Memories of that milestone night and the strong friendship it spawned
danced happily in Alex’s mind as he found Jolie in the