Melanie offered ten minutes, and Luc didn’t waste a second of it. Crowded into her office with Charlotte, Melanie and Melanie’s husband, Robert LeSoeur, the head chef, he outlined how the VIP dinner had been promoted.

“I take it there are no cooking facilities on the premises?” Melanie asked. She hadn’t smiled once.

“No. You would have to prepare everything elsewhere and transport it. Loretta has a kitchen and a first-class wood-burning oven you can use, and my kitchen is at your disposal, though it’s very small.”

Robert, who’d sat mute, arms folded, finally spoke up. “You’ve got your nerve, coming here and asking for favors.”

Startled, Melanie placed a calming hand on Robert’s arm.

“It’s the nerviest thing I’ve ever done,” Luc agreed. “None of you owes me the time of day, and I would never have come here if Loretta wasn’t in such a spot.”

“Who is this Loretta?” Charlotte asked.

He could have expounded for days on who Loretta was-a feisty single mom, as passionate about baking bread as some people were about a lover. A devoted daughter, helping her parents market their honey products. A good friend, one of many who’d accepted him as an equal in Indigo. Gorgeous, bursting with energy and enthusiasm and ideas, never slowing down.

But his ten minutes were almost up.

“She owns a bakery. She’s fantastic. You’ll really like her.”

“Luc says he might be able to swing a sponsorship for the hotel,” Charlotte added.

“You’re in favor of this?” Melanie asked her older sister.

“I’m in favor of anything that promotes the hotel. And…well, Luc is family.”

“Yeah, the black sheep,” Robert grumbled.

“Don’t do it for me,” Luc said. “Do it for a little town that’s trying to survive. Do it to preserve your Cajun heritage. Remember, the more tourism in Indigo, the more people who stay at La Petite Maison, which is your family’s legacy.”

He’d played his last card. Now it was up to this impromptu tribunal to decide his fate.