by Cj Howard
Peter watched her go and felt like he should hug her, because her sadness made him sad, and he realized that she was giving up quite a bit to help him with all that he was doing. It touched his heart in a place where nothing had ever touched his heart before, and it was strange and worrying for him.
The next day, Emmaline and Peter strolled down Decatur Street; her hand tucked into his arm, and him with his hand over hers. She had been quiet since her mention of her grandfather and Peter had been mulling the situation over in his mind. His first order of business was to make her smile.
“I think we ought to start this thing off properly, New Orleans style,” he said, looking at her with a sidelong glance and a smirk.
She raised one eyebrow at him and asked, “Really? And how are we going to do that?”
He grinned at her, “Well, with beignets and coffee, of course.” He walked her into Café du Monde and they sat at a little table right in the middle of the restaurant. Their beignets were delivered hot to their table a few minutes later, covered in thick mounds of white powdered sugar.
Peter picked up the little dish of pastries and took a deep breath, the blasted it out across the plate, blowing a thick white cloud of powdered sugar all over Emmaline. Then he set the plate down on the table and looked at her and laughed richly. She blinked at him and wiped the powder from her face, glaring at him.
“Hey, now, don’t be mad. That’s a New Orleans tradition, my dear. Also, I owed you for the water you threw on me. We’re even now.” He held his hands up to her in defense, still laughing at her, and then he pulled some of the napkins from the dispenser and handed them to her. “Here you go, see if you can wipe that up a bit. Be glad you didn’t wear black today.” She began to laugh at him and they finally settled down into their beignets and coffee, and the people around them who were locals stared in shock.
When they had finished at du Monde, Peter walked with her past Jackson Square and said in a quiet voice, “I thought we could go meet your grandfather, if you don’t mind. No matter if you tell him the truth or if he thinks we are going to get married for real, he will probably want to know who you are hanging around with.”
She felt a tear come to her eye and she wiped it away quickly, “That’s really thoughtful of you, Peter. You don’t have to do that for me, but I appreciate it.”
“I know,” he said lightly. “But all the same, it’s the right thing to do, and that is what I’m working hard on now, doing the right thing.”
Emmaline smiled at him and she turned them to walk down Royal. “I’m telling him the truth. I never lie to my grandparents,” she said quietly. “I just hope he isn’t disappointed in me.”
Peter patted her hand and said seriously, “Emma, I don’t think anyone could ever be disappointed in you. Not if they really know you.”
She glanced at him when he spoke her name in such a familiar way, and she didn’t say anything. She decided that she liked the way it sounded. They walked a long way and just as he was about to mention that he could have the car pick them up, Emmaline turned down a few more streets and then they were standing in front of a little old house with a deep front porch. On the porch, rocking back and forth in his chair like he had all the time in the world, was Emmaline’s grandfather.
She walked up the steps and hugged him tight and kissed his cheek. “Hello Papa, how are you today?”
He smiled at her like the sun had just come out and warmed him from the cold night. “There’s my girl! I’m good now that you’re here. How’s my little one?” His eyes crinkled as he looked at her.
“I’m good, Papa. There’s someone here I want you to meet. This is my friend, Peter. Peter, this is my grandfather, Henri.”
Peter stepped up, pulled his cap off of his head, and waited while her grandfather pushed himself up out of the rocking chair and stood up as tall as he could. The old man looked Peter in the eyes and then reached for his hand. “Hello Peter, welcome to my home. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”
Peter shook his hand and then sat down in a chair near Henri. “Thank you, sir,” he said humbly.
“Can I offer you a refreshment? Lemonade? Sweet Tea?” Henri asked, still standing before him.
Peter smiled and was about to decline when he saw the look on Emmaline’s face and he changed his mind at the last moment. “Uh, yes, sir. Sweet tea would be very nice, thank you.”
The old man smiled and nodded, then shuffled off inside the house, humming to himself, and the screen door slapped shut behind him.
Emmaline smiled at Peter. “He just loves company. Thank you for letting him treat you.”
Peter nodded and smiled, turning his cap over and over in his hands. He stared hard at it, and kept silent. When Henri returned, he handed Peter a tall glass with fresh ice and dark sweet tea in it. Peter sipped it and raised his eyebrows, impressed with the drink.
“That’s really good! Thank you so much, sir,” Peter said with a smile. Henri grinned and nodded and sat down.
“I make good sweet tea,” he said as he sat. He got comfortable again and then looked at Peter. “So you’re seeing my granddaughter?” he asked amiably.
“Yes, sir, I am,” Peter answered.
“Well, young man, you’ve got your hands full then. She’s a firecracker. Where’ve you taken her?” Henri looked at him with wise old eyes and a kind smile.
Peter almost choked on his tea, “She and I were at Café du Monde just a while ago.”
Henri looked at his granddaughter’s clothes smudged with powdered sugar. “Yes. I can see that,” he said, stifling a good laugh. “She let you get away with that? She must like you, then.”
Peter smiled and then laughed. “That’s the first time she’s let me get away with anything at all, so I’m counting myself lucky, sir.”
Henri laughed at him. Emmaline moved her seat next to her grandfather’s and took his hand in hers.
“Papa,” she said softly. “I hope you won’t be upset with me, but I want to tell you what it is that’s going on here. You know you’re the most important person in my life and I would never keep anything from you, so I want you to know this, but you can’t tell anyone.”
Henri looked at her with great concern, but he listened quietly to everything she had to say, occasionally shooting dark looks of uncertainty over to Peter, but he let her finish and by the time she was done with her story, he whistled and leaned back in his chair, then began to rock in it quietly for a long while.
Emmaline waited for him to respond, so Peter followed her lead, and he waited as well and sipped his sweet tea.
At long last, Henri spoke. He looked at Peter. “Why did you choose my granddaughter for this deal of yours?”
Peter looked right at him. “I chose her because she is the most upstanding, honest, hardworking, respectable woman I know, and she is genuinely interested in helping her community. Besides that, she is a truly beautiful woman and she will make a believable wife.”
Henri nodded his head and sighed. “Well, I don’t think it’s right, but I understand what you are doing. I’m never going to let my little one down, so I’ll be right there to give you away, Emma, but I hope someday you will let me give you away to a real husband who will love you all of your life like your grandmother loved me. I was a lucky man to get her and I don’t know how I ever talked her into marrying me, but I’m grateful every day that she did, and I want that same kind of love for you, little one.”
She hugged him tight around his neck and then sat back down again and wiped tears from her eyes. He looked once more at Peter. “You better take good care of her,” he said. It was clear that it wasn’t a request.
Peter nodded. “Yes, sir, I will do that. I give you my word.”
Henri nodded back. “Good.”
They stayed and talked with Henri through the early afternoon, and then after Emmaline had washed the sugar off of her clothes, they left him and headed out for their dinner date. Peter hired a carriage to take them
through the Quarter for an evening ride and they sat together in the warm air as twilight started to descend and the stars came out one by one.
“You know,” Peter said as they rode along quietly, “I really like your grandfather. No one has ever treated me with such genuine respect before. That was a first. You’re a lucky lady to have him in your life.”
“I know it,” she said, smiling, and held his hand as the carriage rolled on.
They spent every day together having lunch and dinner out in town, making sure they were seen by everyone, and all the looks of disgust and disdain began to quiet and calm over the weeks, and they noticed a subtle change in the way that people looked at Peter, and the way they treated him. Peter made sure that Henri went out to dinner with them on Sunday nights, and he got to love the weekly visits with him. Their conversations ranged over a wide array of topics, and none of them were ever boring.
Emmaline had learned that Peter worked in his office in the mornings, and she left him to it, often doing laps in the pool or making breakfast for herself and Nelson and Peter, when they emerged from the war cave, as Nelson sometimes called it.
She was making French press coffee one morning, three weeks into their deal, when Nelson slipped into the kitchen looking more than a little askew.
“What’s going on in there today? Are you alright?” she asked him, slightly concerned.
He shook his head and looked longingly at the coffee she was pouring into her cup. “No, it’s not going well at all.”
She saw his face and handed him the cup of coffee, which he took gratefully. “We’re really struggling with part of the refurbishment in the plans. There’s a business associate from out of town who is in there right now, and we just can’t seem to reach terms on anything. It’s warm and tense in there, and I just had to break out to come grab some coffee before one of them kills the other one.”
Emmaline nodded and patted him on the shoulder. Then she made a pretty tray, laying out a linen cloth on it, adding a small vase of fresh cut flowers she had chosen from the garden that morning, she placed a plate of cookies and a bowl of wrapped chocolates on the tray and then pulled a pitcher of sweet tea from the refrigerator and nudged Nelson.
“Alright, I’m armed, let’s go,” she said conspiratorially.
They walked into the office together and she set the tray down on Peter’s desk. He looked up at her, in a bad mood and she saw irritation flit across his perfect looking face. She turned her eyes to his business associate who was standing at another table in the office, looking at designs sitting on the surface of it. He was tall and seemingly built of solid muscle. He had jet black hair and light blue eyes. His extraordinary good looks caught her off guard for a moment and she blinked at him and then smiled. He smiled back at her warmly and looked at the tray in gratitude. He walked around the desk, his eyes never leaving her, and he reached for her hand.
“Hello, I’m Tristan.” He kissed the back of her hand slowly and delicately, and then released it, his eyes watching her still as she smiled widely at him. “That looks so good. I think it’s just what we needed,” he said softly, glancing for a moment at the tray. “Thank you for bringing that in.”
She shrugged and smiled, but before she could answer, Peter stood up and slammed his hands down on the desk. “No, that is not just what we needed! What we need is a resolution to your stubborn attitude! We can’t move forward until you agree with me! I don’t think cookies and tea are going to fix that!” He raised his voice and Tristan winked at Emmaline and turned to Peter.
“Sweet tea might sweeten your disposition and your short-sightedness. Can I offer you a glass of it?” His voice was deep and calm, and his tone was polite.
Emmaline wandered over to the table and looked down at the plans. A cursory glance gave her a fair idea of what they were looking at.
“Tea is not going to fix this!” Peter snapped.
Emmaline looked up at them both, and they were both watching her. “What seems to be the hold up?” she asked.
Tristan walked over to the table and stood near her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your name before,” he said with a smile.
“I’m Emmaline,” she replied and he bowed his head slightly to her.
“Well, Emmaline, we are working on these plans to refurbish a section of the French Quarter and some of the Uptown area and the city here and here as well. Part of our work includes the merger of two businesses, and the challenge seems to be that we are experiencing some legal constraints due to…” he glanced at Peter and then back at Emmaline, “some red tape at the Governor’s office that we can’t seem to get through. Not all of the legal channels we need to use are open to us because some of the people working on the project aren’t, let’s just say, favored. So that’s holding us up, and while we are working through that, our timelines are being delayed which is holding back the progress of combining the companies. The employees are very concerned about their jobs and future of the businesses and the merger and some of them are talking about leaving for more solid employment. We don’t want to lose the talent we have, and legally, we have to keep both companies active until the legal channels are cleared for the merger, so we are stuck about what to do with it with the employees. We’ll get through the red tape eventually, but we can’t lose our staff.”
Emmaline looked at the documents spread across the table and her eyes fell on a map of the Quarter. “Well, actually, it seems like you already have a really simple solution to the whole problem,” she said with a smile at Tristan.
Peter stalked over to the table and flung his hands up in the air at her. “There’s nothing simple about it! Nothing at all! What do you know anyway? You’re just a waitress!”
Emmaline’s heart felt like it stopped in her chest and her eyes stung with tears as she stared at Peter’s angry face. Tristan placed his hand lightly on her shoulder and looked directly at her.
“What is it that you thought might work for this? I’d love to know. Fresh eyes can usually see things that tired eyes can’t.” He gave her an encouraging smile and she took a deep breath to steady herself, then she looked at Tristan alone and placed her hand on one of the squares of property.
“This building right here is already refurbished. It’s been repaired. Everything in it works. I know the man who owns this building. He rents it out on weekends to local artists for them to show their work in, but it’s empty during the week. You could reinforce the confidence in your employees if you move the people from both companies into this one building so that they can work together and move toward combining the businesses. Leave both of the individual businesses operational for the time being so that you meet the legal requirements you have before the merger is done, but just move the staff to this location. They can work together until you get the merger complete, and then you can move them into the building you have for the new company.” She looked pointedly at Peter. “Sort of a temporary marriage until the deal is done and then they can go where they are supposed to be.”
Both men looked at the property and then at Emmaline in utter surprise. Tristan clasped her arm and shook her hand. “Well, that’s brilliant! I never would have thought of that, but then I don’t know the Quarter as well as you do, I’m sure. Thank you so much! Peter, what do you think? Would you be willing to do that?”
Peter knew that what she had said would solve everything they were working on that morning. He felt a heavy pit in his stomach and he looked up at her and nodded quietly.
“Yes, I think that would take care of everything.”
She watched him with hurt and angry eyes and then looked away from him and smiled up at Tristan. “Thank you, Tristan, I appreciate your kindness more than you know. It was wonderful to meet you, but I think I should step out and leave you two to the details of your work.”
Tristan smiled down at her and took her hand, lifting it to his lips again. “The pleasure is entirely mine, Emmaline. Thank you for bailing us out. We’d never have gotten through i
t without you, and thank you again for your sweet hospitality. I’ll enjoy the refreshments.”
They shared a pleasant moment, then she turned and walked from the room. Nelson held the door open for her and smiled apologetically at her as she walked out. She was furious with Peter, and she sent him a text to tell him she was canceling lunch. He didn’t respond to her. She was out working in the garden a while later when Nelson approached her with a nervous smile on his face and she saw a moment later that Tristan was a few paces behind him.
“Well! There she is!” Tristan called out happily.
Nelson leaned toward her and said quietly, “He was looking for you and I thought you might be out here. Great job in the war cave today. Peter got your message. He’s not happy about it, but he got it.”
Nelson left and Tristan walked up to her as she set her shears down and pulled off her gloves.
“Emmaline, I wanted to tell you how impressed I was with you in there today. You showed real courage under fire and that says a lot about your character. You also offered us a simple and brilliant solution to a challenge we couldn’t see past, and I wanted to thank you for it. May I take you to lunch, if you don’t already have other plans?” Tristan asked, his eyes locked on hers.
She felt butterflies swarm in her and it was an unfamiliar feeling; one that made her feel as though she was glowing, and she liked it.
“Yes, I would be glad to join you for lunch. As it happens, I had a last minute cancellation and I’m free today.” He held his arm out to her and she slipped her hand into it.
“Good, you can show me that building in the Quarter that you were talking about. I’d like to see it in person. Of course, we’ll do that after lunch.” He smiled down at her they walked back into the house.
“I’ll just go get cleaned up, and I’ll be right back,” she said sweetly.
“Take your time,” he said in a soft tone.
She felt like she was floating down the hall to her room, and it made her giddy. It seemed like she was fifteen years old with a high school crush. She told herself that she was just being silly and he was only a nice man; a business associate of Peter’s, and that was all.