by Maria Luis
Claudia nodded her approval. “So, am I to understand that you, Shaelyn, are the designer behind all of the pieces we’ll see on the show?”
Shae laughed huskily. “Just the naughty ones, Claudia. I can’t be held responsible for what the actors look like when they’re fully clothed.”
They all laughed at that, and Anna began to settle down. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. She’d always heard horror stories about Claudia Depuy, aka The Piranha of New Orleans, but her TV persona didn’t seem quite so . . . sharp.
“And, Anna,” the woman said now, “how do you feel about the progression of La Parisienne since you purchased the business over five years ago?”
“It’s been great.” Staring straight at the camera, as she’d always been trained to do for clips like this, Anna offered a genuine smile. “I’ve always known La Parisienne was destined for great things. Other than my son, Julian, this boutique has been my pride and joy for most of my adult life.”
Claudia flashed a grin for the camera. “Speaking of your son, how old is he now?”
Anna shrugged off a sudden bout of uneasiness. “Fourteen.”
“You had him quite young, then,” said The Piranha. “At seventeen, was it?”
“Eighteen,” she bit out.
“So inspiring.” Claudia turned to the camera though her eyes remained locked on Anna. “A single mother who made the Top 40 under 40 List. Doesn’t happen every day.”
Her fingers itched to encircle the woman’s neck. Where did she think she was going with this? Deliberately, Anna slowly said, “I’m sure it’s not as uncommon as one might think.”
“I suppose not. What would you say comprises your success?”
Not punching you in the face, for one.
Anna folded her hands in her lap and counted to five. When she hit ten, because five hadn’t been nearly long enough, she murmured, “Ambition, dedication, and passion. Without one of the three, this boutique would still be selling ‘I got drunk on Bourbon Street’ T-shirts.”
Claudia gave them a winsome, and fake, grin. “Well, there you have it, y’all. You want success like Anna Bryce and Shaelyn Lawrence? Whip up a cocktail of ambition, dedication, and passion and put it in a go-cup. Tell us how it goes on Twitter and be sure to keep an eye out for the new season of Thick of the Woods, which is due to air later this year. That’s all for tonight; this is WWZN 34 News, and my name is Claudia Depuy with your latest social news here in New Orleans, Louisiana. Have a good night.”
The lights flicked off. Claudia clambered off of her stool/lawn chair. Anna wondered if she’d just entered a different universe.
“Did you not want to ask us more questions about the boutique?” she asked, surprised by the quick pace in which the crew closed down the set. A blink of the eye and it was all put away.
Claudia barely glanced in her direction. “We got what we needed. It’s a small segment, not a real interview.” She lifted her wrist and peered down at a large-faced watch. “Our interview is scheduled for thirty minutes from now, which means we have fifteen minutes to get to Lakeview.”
“Do you need anything else from—?”
The anchor cut off Shaelyn with a flick of her hand. “Great to see the both of you. Keep up with your good work, even if you’re just selling panties, yeah? Okay, we have FIFTEEN MINUTES to get to Lakeview for our big interview. Do y’all hear me? We have FIFTEEN MINUTES.”
Their voices cut off as the front door shut behind them.
For a moment, neither Anna nor Shaelyn said anything.
Then, “Do you think she hates us?” just as Anna quipped, “She must be wearing a thong at least three sizes too small.”
“Four sizes,” Shaelyn countered with one of her classic can’t-help-it snorts. “They’re wadded so tight I bet she waddles like a penguin all day.”
Anna cast another glance to the full-length windows. “I need more champagne.”
“God, me too.”
They retreated to the register, where Shaelyn retrieved their glasses and then released a heavy sigh. “Champagne bottle is done.”
“Already?”
Her cousin lifted the bottle and waved it back and forth. “Not even a drop.”
“It’s fine. I’ll grab another from my office. We both need it after that debacle.”
Anna grabbed the empty champagne bottle, dropping it in the recycle bucket on her way down the hallway to her office. The door was unlocked and she let herself in, temporarily kicking off her shoes since no one was around.
Between her new dating plan, Claudia The Piranha, and her hang-up on Luke O’Connor, Anna was feeling dreadfully out of sorts. She plopped down on the cushioned bench, just to rest her feet for a second.
What she really needed was a vacation. When was the last time that she and Julian had gotten away from the city? Anna scoured her memory for an answer, somewhat disheartened to realize that it’d been close to ten years.
Okay, she thought with renewed vigor, in addition to a dating plan that actually worked, she needed to plan a family vacation. Europe was ideal. Ideal wasn’t always reality, and she’d gladly accept even Pensacola, Florida, if that was all they could make room for in their busy schedules.
Christmas vacation was coming up in just two weeks. Surely, she could ask Shaelyn to manage the storefront for just two or three days while she and Julian skipped out of town to make the three-hour drive to Florida’s panhandle. It wouldn’t be the same as summertime swimming, but at least it was something.
Maybe while she was at it, she could invite—
Her thoughts cut off at the sound of knocking on her door. She twisted around, still rubbing the poor, abused soles of her feet, and her gaze almost didn’t compute the person standing in the doorway to her office.
Not Shaelyn.
It was Luke.
And in his hand was a small flowerpot. An orchid.
The normal thing to do would have been to question his unexpected presence or even to ask about the orchid, but Anna wasn’t normal—not when it came to Luke O’Connor—and those weren’t the questions that slipped off her tongue.
“You’re wearing a suit,” she stated with a tilt of her chin toward his body.
He looked down at himself, then lifted his green eyes back to her face. “I heard it was a party.”
“It’s not a suit kind of party.”
That same expression that she’d spotted the other day—the same one Shaelyn claimed to belong to constipation—twisted his features. “Can’t I be a suit kind of man some days?”
She had the distinct feeling that he was trying to tell her something. For the life of her, she had no idea what. “I suppose you can,” she murmured. “Where’s your cane?”
“At home.”
“Don’t you need it?”
“Robb told me that I’d probably be okay enough to get by without it for small periods at a time.”
She didn’t offer for him to enter her office. “How is Robb? And Amy?”
His green eyes lightened. “Good. Better, I think. Had dinner with them and my mother yesterday. Don’t want to say that the two of them are golden, but . . . they seem happy, which is all I care about. Amy’s still lugging around that pregnancy test and showing it to anyone who cares to see it, though.”
“What you’re saying is, no one cares to see it.”
His lips turned up at the corners. “Exactly.”
Testing the waters, she offhandedly put in, “Babies are an exciting part of life. I’m sure she’s ready to pop out a baby girl or boy today if she could.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he told her, his gaze on the orchid, “bachelor forever, if you recall.”
“I didn’t forget.” How could she? She’d thought of nothing else for almost a week now. She’d missed him, and although they’d exchanged a few texts here and there about Julian and his football games, it just hadn’t been the same. “Is that orchid for me?”
This time, there was no mistaking the way he avoide
d her gaze. “Jules mentioned about the news stopping by,” he rumbled, holding out the potted plant with both hands. “It’s nothing.”
She wasn’t buying that game a second time around. Smoothing the invisible wrinkles from her dress, Anna padded around the bench. Her stockinged feet were silent on the area rug. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, lifting a finger to touch one of the purple petals. “Thank you.”
Luke shifted his weight. “They remind me of you. Strong, feminine.”
Wishing that the words didn’t melt her heart, Anna countered, “They also die easily. If you let them.”
Green eyes met hers, and the depth of emotion swirling there nearly had her stepping back in shock. He took advantage of her silence, asking, “Can I come in?” before letting himself into her office anyway.
He kicked the door shut with the heel of his leather shoe. Placing the orchid on her desk, he pinched the right sleeve of his suit jacket and drew it off. Did the same to the left sleeve, then slung the black fabric across her desk. When he turned to face her again, his gaze was hot and he’d loosened his navy-blue tie at the collar.
He looked better in a suit than any man had a right to look.
Anticipation warmed her. Hot anticipation that she had no business feeling. “The party doesn’t start for another hour. Maybe we could—”
“How was the filming?” he interjected, calmly folding his arms over his chest. He’d hiked his ass up on her desk, so that his full weight didn’t settle on his bad hip. “You look stressed.”
Pretending that he didn’t exist would be so much easier if he didn’t bring her flowers or ask after her like he cared. If he hadn’t started taking Julian out for “guy’s nights out” with Brady and Danvers like Jules was officially part of the crew.
Now, it was all “Luke said this” and “Luke said that” around their house every night. Anna didn’t understand how Luke had won over Julian so swiftly, but it was no secret that Luke O’Connor was now Julian’s favorite person. Which pretty much summed up how Anna felt about him, too.
“Hey,” said Luke gently, “are you okay?”
No. But she couldn’t exactly tell him that, now could she? Then she’d have to admit that she wanted him—maybe even loved him—when there was nothing between them but old-fashioned lust. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she said, “I’m okay. It’s just the way that Claudia—the TV anchor—questioned us . . . it made me feel like she wasn’t so much as interested in the boutique as she was about sniffing around in my personal life.”
He nodded sympathetically. “Guess it’s a good thing you don’t have anything to hide. My mom calls that woman a piranha.”
“Everyone calls her that here,” Anna replied, her mind still halted on his comment about her not having anything to hide. Little did he know how wrong about that he was. Anna had everything to hide when it came to Julian’s father. Everything.
If anyone ever made the connection between Anna and Anthony Mardeaux, murderer and now prisoner at the Louisiana State Penitentiary, everything she’d worked for tirelessly in the last decade would be all for naught. And if the kids at Julian’s high school found out . . . Anna couldn’t imagine anything worse.
Only her parents, Shaelyn, Julian, and Brady knew about Anna’s ex-boyfriend. Brady, because he’d been the one to arrest Tony last year. And it wasn’t as though she could convince Julian to sit down and have a conversation about his father. His method of recovery was to ignore the problem’s very existence.
“It just left a bad taste in my mouth, is all,” she explained. “I’m sure I’m just overreacting.”
He didn’t look like he believed her. “Is there anything I can do for you before the party?”
“No, I think everything—wait! I have your present here. Don’t move.”
Luke lifted his hands. “Not going anywhere.”
Anna went to her desk and opened the bottom drawer. The package sat nestled at the bottom and she grabbed the two corners with each hand. With her shin, she edged the drawer shut and twisted around to face Luke.
“If you don’t like it, I still have the receipt.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it,” he said in that husky baritone she enjoyed listening to so much. “Should I be sitting down for this?”
Anna slid the gift onto her desk. “If you want.”
Luke’s butt came off the desk as he wrapped his hands around the present, dragging it close. His green eyes were a vibrant peridot and were wide with curiosity. Tearing at the clear tape, he unraveled the present.
“There are three gifts here.” His large hands traced the line of the hardcover edge of a book, then encircled the two DVD sets.
“I thought, maybe, the book might come in handy with your mom’s shop.”
Luke traced the bold typography: Hacking Your Way to Best Small-Business Success. “Thank you. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be there for. You could say I was a temporary employee at best.”
“Really?” Anna’s brows lowered in confusion. “She mentioned to Shaelyn and I during Thanksgiving dinner that she was thinking about naming you co-owner.”
His mouth gaped open. “Co-owner? I don’t think so. Surprisingly, I like it there. It’s relaxing, probably thanks to that New Age shit my mom plays on the radio all day. But I’m not there on a permanent basis.”
“Maybe you should take it up with your mom, then?”
Luke stared down at the book, silent. “I think you’re right.” He switched his attention to the wrapped DVD sets. “Dare I hope this is something scandalous?”
Anna grinned, crossing one leg in front of the other as she watched him with amusement. “I think ‘scandalous’ might be a good word for it.”
His mouth twitched. “Please don’t say that you got me porn.”
“Just open it,” she urged with an impatient flap of her arm.
He did so without further prompting, ripping open the packaging like he was a kid on Christmas morning. His hands stilled at the first glimpse of the DVDs and within seconds his hands were on the desk, his head falling forward as he roared with laughter.
“You didn’t,” he said, reaching up to swipe under one eye with his thumb.
Somewhat smugly, Anna saluted him. “I did.”
Lifting his head to meet her gaze, he announced, “I need to kiss you.”
She barely reined in a surprised squeak. “Right now?”
“Yes. You got me the Dr. Phil and Judge Judy DVD sets. I’m not sure whether to feel pleased or embarrassed. If I’m being honest, probably the former.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“You’re right,” he murmured, cutting around the desk and moving toward her with uneven but purposeful strides, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss the hell out of you.”
Anna pretended to put up a fuss, but the honest-to-God truth was that she wanted to kiss him, too.
His hands came up to cup her face, his thumbs fanning out over the crest of her cheeks. Her knees softened and she tipped her head back. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, one hand wrapping around his thick wrist. “We agreed to make this just a one-time thing.”
“Sweetheart, we threw that rule out the window when we did it in the courtyard. And in the shower, and on the—”
She covered his mouth with her hand, and she felt his lips widen into a grin beneath her palm. “What are you proposing?”
With a soft grip, he tugged her hand away from his face. He didn’t let her go. Instead he pressed a gentle kiss to her inner wrist. “The last time I was in this office, I wondered what it would be like to fuck you on your desk.”
“That’s your proposal?”
His wide shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It was either the desk or the bench. The desk option fulfills a few more of the fantasies I’ve had about you.”
“You’ve had fantasies about me?” Anna shouldn’t let those words please her as much as they did. “What did these fantasies include?
”
He nudged her backward until the back of her thighs hit the desk and her hands came down to grip the edge. His green eyes glittered with desire, and that potent desire had her clenching her thighs together. They should not be doing this again. She needed to tell him that she’d called—
“I’d rather show you,” he said, interrupting her thought process as he unknotted his tie and slid it from his collar. “C’mere, Blondie.”
Anna eyed the necktie like it was a foreign object. “What do you plan on doing with that?”
“Fulfilling a fantasy.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Don’t think it’s quite my color. Now if it was pink . . .”
He motioned for her to give him her hands, and pathetic creature that she was, she held out her hands even as she vocally protested. “Luke, I’m not sure . . . We have guests coming soon.”
“What time is it?”
Her gaze found the clock on the wall. “Just before six.”
“I have thirty minutes. Long enough to do this, sweetheart.” He wrapped the tie around her wrists, and then gently pushed her until her back softly collided with the desk. “We’ve got to talk about these stockings.”
“They’re warm and it’s cold out,” she protested.
“You also look beautiful in them,” he returned evenly. “Doesn’t mean I don’t hate them. Guys bitch about bra clasps. You know what I say? Bra clasps have nothing on stockings.”
He sounded so completely frustrated that Anna couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that eased out of her. With narrowed eyes, Luke brushed a hard kiss over her mouth before moving down and hiking her dress up. After a moment of struggle, he managed to slide the stockings down and over her feet. He held the offending item up like a conceding white flag and then threw them over his shoulder.
“Next time,” he murmured against her neck, “I’ll be faster.”
Then he fused their mouths together and Anna didn’t have time to ponder what “next time” really meant. She lost herself in his arms, which had slipped behind her shoulders to cradle her back. For a man who reputedly hated anything that spoke to softness, Luke O’Connor certainly had a way of making her feel uniquely individual anytime he pressed his lips to her.