by Maria Luis
Anna dropped her forehead to the marble top and let out a groan of despair. “I don’t know why I did it.”
“Because he’s hot as hell and anyone would be out of their mind to turn him down?”
Blowing her hair out of her face, she peered up at her cousin. “Are you supposed to notice things like that about your fiancé’s best friend?”
Shaelyn shrugged. “What did you say? Oh, right—I’m not blind. The guy is good-looking. I recognized that way back when. I just always thought Brady was hotter.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad to know that,” Anna said dryly.
“Oh, Brady does, trust me. That man is my soul mate, and he knows it.” Another easy shrug. “Anyway, enough about me. Let’s get back to you. Sex with Luke? How was it? Scale of one to ten with ten being, my panties are on fire just thinking about it.”
That was easy enough to answer. “Nine for the first round. Ten for the second two, and twelve for the last one.”
“Twelve? Imagine what it’ll be like when you’re sixty. By that ratio you’ll be somewhere up in the hundreds.”
“That’s the thing,” Anna said after taking another sip of her champagne, “there isn’t going to be a when-we’re-sixty thing. It was just that one night. That’s all.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that correctly. You’re giving sex with Luke O’Connor a twelve-rating and you don’t plan to make the relationship permanent? Are you out of your mind?”
No, but perhaps he was out of his. Sighing, she admitted, “He doesn’t want marriage, kids, any of it. I do. There’s no point in prolonging the inevitable. I’m going to want more; he’s not going to.”
Shaelyn didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure about that?”
“He said so himself. He asked if I wanted more children, and when I said that I did, he got this . . . weird expression on his face. I can’t really explain it.”
Nodding slowly, Shaelyn murmured, “Maybe he was constipated.”
“Oh, my God, Shae, that’s what your first thought goes to?” Had she called Shaelyn her best friend? Anna needed Jade. At least Jade was normal—mostly. Okay, not really. The woman watched way too many crime shows to be considered anything remotely normal.
“I’m just saying, it’s a possibility. You shouldn’t leap to conclusions.”
“He told me that he didn’t want kids.”
“Okay, so that’s when you leap to conclusions. So, what are you going to—ah, crap, they’re here. Quick, let’s put away the bubbly. We have to save it for the party later.”
As Shaelyn went into hide-the-ten-dollar-champagne-bottle mode, Anna smoothed out her hair in a full-length mirror and went to greet their guests from the 6 p.m. nightly news crew.
She spotted Claudia, the main news anchor, right off the bat. Her dress was skintight and the color of the Mississippi River (i.e., a muddy gray). Behind her was the crew itself, equipped with all sorts of tech stuff Anna didn’t understand.
“Hello there,” she greeted as she opened the door and let their guests filter in. “Thank you so much for wanting to feature us this evening.”
Claudia turned around, her brown eyes narrowed. “We don’t have much time to get everything set up the way we wanted. My boss decided to inform me that today is the day we are launching a new series—do you know how hard it is to launch a new series? No, you wouldn’t. TV is hard. It’s hard and it’s always changing, and we’re going to have to get this right from the start otherwise it’s all a waste of time.”
Anna and Shaelyn traded a glance. Straightening her back, Anna feigned a soft chuckle. “I can only imagine how busy you must be, what with your hectic schedule and all. I can never say thank you enough for taking the time out of your day to give us just a small bit of the limelight you hold.”
Beside her, Shaelyn coughed into a closed fist and even Anna had to purse her lips to keep from laughing. It was either that or be insulted, and Claudia seemed the sort to be so wrapped up in her own world that there was no point feeling slighted.
Claudia harrumphed, snapped fingers at one of her cameramen, and said, “There. I want this done right in front of that window.”
A cameraman lifted his finger. “Ma’am, there isn’t any light by the window at this time of day? It’s dark out.”
“By the window, Trevor.”
“It’s TJ.”
“Whatever. Let’s get this done.”
For the next five minutes, the crew set up shop by the window, all mumbling beneath their breaths about their anchor. A makeup artist unloaded her bag on the register counter, snagged both Anna and Shaelyn by the arms, and proceeded to primp them. Shaelyn basked in the attention like she was receiving a massage, while Anna resisted batting at the woman’s hands when she tried to pluck Anna’s eyebrows.
“They’re fine,” she growled, “I just got them done last week.”
“Whatever,” the makeup artist snapped, and then plucked one last hair from the bunch. “There, you’re good.”
Rubbing her eyebrow, Anna wondered if Hell had swallowed them whole. She should have known that things could and would get progressively worse.
Claudia was at the helm.
“Are we ready? We have exactly TEN MINUTES. Do you hear me? TEN MINUTES to get this entire segment done.”
Anna was shuffled forward, thrown into one of those actor’s chairs that was part stool, part lawn chair. A camera light filtered down into her face, interrogation-style.
“Okay, okay!” This from a production team member. “We’re going to be starting in three . . . two . . . one . . . go.”
Claudia flicked her voluminous brown hair over her shoulder, smiled serenely and then, in the sweetest voice, exclaimed, “Thank you so much for welcoming us here to La Parisienne today. It’s such an honor to be sitting here with the both of you.”
Anna’s mouth dropped open at the transformation. Was this the same woman? It almost didn’t seem possible to reconcile the two variations of Claudia Depuy.
Shaelyn, thankfully, recovered quicker. “No, thank you, Claudia. We’re excited to have you here.”
Claudia turned to the camera. “For those of you just tuning in,” she announced in her best news anchor voice, “WWZN is here today with Anna Bryce and Shaelyn Lawrence, co-owners of the hottest lingerie boutique in town. Recently, La Parisienne has been featured in magazines like Cosmopolitan and Fame, and the shop’s apparel has even landed on the set of the major hit series, Thick of the Woods. Anna, Shaelyn, can you tell me how it felt when you were first approached by such a huge production company?”
In the past, Anna had always held the reins when it came to interviews. Shaelyn was new to the scene, having been involved for only a year now, and Anna had never wanted her little cousin to feel thrown into the wild.
She hadn’t given Shaelyn enough credit.
Her cousin seemed to recognize that Anna was still in a “mood,” and didn’t allow for any hesitation about who would answer the question. “It’s been great,” Shae gushed appropriately, “An absolute dream come true. Although, to be honest, I don’t think we even dreamed that this might happen for La Parisienne.”
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 alw
ays 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 avoided 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.