Pretty Boy Problems

by Michele Grant

  Carter Parks was a retired Superbowl-winning linebacker who had been at LSU with Beau before turning pro. He was a mountain of a man with a huge smile, a soft voice, and a wicked sense of humor. The two of them together were something to see. Both of them stood in six foot three or six foot four range. Beau was lean and dressed in a black tee tucked into black jeans. Carter was thickly solid and dressed in tan pants and a navy polo. Beau was pretty; Carter was handsome. They both had smiles that caught your attention and held it tight.

  I liked Carter immediately, even after I heard that the two of them were given the nickname “The Pontchartrain Poon-hounds” on campus. I can only imagine the trail of broken hearts left in their wake. Pretty much confirmed what I already suspected: Beauregard was a hound of epic proportions back in the day. And maybe was still. I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t really seen him doing any chasing or hounding lately. Curious.

  Anyway, the club was named The Jade Spot, for no apparent reason I could ascertain. It was a combination restaurant /lounge/club that catered to the over-thirty, upwardly mobile set. This evening the band was playing a Stevie Wonder tribute, and the menu featured a sparkling wine tasting. If that wasn’t a slippery slope for a woman fighting an attraction to a man, I didn’t know what else to call it. Anytime your champagne glass magically refills without your knowledge . . . that’s a recipe for foolishness and mayhem.

  Working closely with Beau for the past five weeks had been more than I ever expected. He was all quick wit, agile communication, and sizzly chemistry. I had never felt anything quite like it. It was almost a force field that buzzed when we were in the same room. It went nuclear when we touched. So we tried not to touch.

  So I wasn’t sure how, after spinning around on the floor listening to Carter tell hilarious stories about Beau, I found myself wrapped tightly against Monsieur Montgomery while he sang “Knocks Me Off My Feet” in my ear. My head was swirling, and I really didn’t know if it was from the bubbly wine or the company. But it all felt really good. How unfair was it that the man was not only finer than should be legal but could also sing and move like he was born to it? Is there anything you can’t do?!

  Beau tilted his head to the side and looked down at me. “Did you mean to say that out loud, chérie?”

  I most certainly had not. “Never mind. Keep dancing.”

  “Tout à fait.”

  “Which means?”

  “As you like, or of course, or certainly.”

  Apparently, I needed to learn more French. The few phrases I knew from my Paris runway days were not enough to keep up with Beau’s affectations. Although I was starting to think it was just a part of who he was. Beau might be a little fancy, but he certainly wasn’t fake.

  “I can hear you thinking, Belle. What is it?”

  “Just trying to figure you out, Montgomery.”

  “Let me know what you come up with; I could use some insight myself.”

  The song ended and we took slow steps as we separated, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts. There was definitely something going on here. He seemed a man at ease with himself. He was comfortable in the moment. I, on the other hand, was uneasy as hell. Standing there I felt the struggle between my intellect and my feelings. I liked Beau. I genuinely did. God knew I was attracted to him. A part of me wanted to just go with that. But then the intellect stepped in. He worked for me. The man’s college nickname was Poonhound, for Christ’s sake. Plus I was friends with his sister. Messy. I liked things clean.

  He quirked a brow at me. “Come to any decisions yet?”

  “Let me marinate with it for a second.”

  “Fair enough.” He held my hand as we walked back to the table. I saw Katrina’s and Carter’s eyes drop to our clasped hands, and I pulled away. This could get complicated very quickly. And I didn’t have time for complicated.

  As I slid into the booth, he glided in beside me and asked the table, “Another round?”

  “Almost always,” Carter said.

  “Maybe just one more,” Katrina added.

  All eyes at the table fell on me. “I probably shouldn’t.”

  Beau’s eyelids dropped low. “All the more reason you should, then.” He lifted a finger toward the waiter. “Once more for the table, please.”

  As the waiter scurried off, I heard Katrina sucking her teeth beside me.

  “What is it?”

  “Trouble. In stilettos. Headed our direction.”

  I looked over to see a lovely dark-skinned sister with a shoulder-length bob and a smile that screamed “up to no damned good,” dressed to the nines and approaching our table with a determined gait. From her flawlessly made-up face, past the revealing but expensive clothes, down to her perfectly pedicured feet wrapped in five-inch silver sandals ... everything about her announced, Look at me and appreciate what you see.

  Apparently I was the only one at the table who didn’t know her. Carter had an appreciative smirk on his face; Katrina had an irritated scowl. And Beau? Beau’s face was remarkably blank. Only the tightness around his jaw indicated that he knew anything about this woman.

  When she was only a few steps from the table, he rose and gave her a hug. When he pulled back, she squeezed tighter and let her hand glide down his back and across his ass. My brow shot up. It was like that? Hmmm, interesting.

  “Renee, ma belle fleur, how have you been? You look exquisite, as always,” Beau said in a voice that spoke of . . . familiarity. He took a step back but she kept a hand on his arm. I decided right then and there that I didn’t like her. I hate women who cling.

  “You know me, Beauregard. I’m always good. You’re still looking like the best damned dessert on the menu.” She dragged a bright red lacquered nail down his arm.

  “Merci, I do what I can to hold the old physique together.”

  “I remember,” she purred and sent a stunning smile toward the table. “Big Sexy! Still in the wolf pack, huh?”

  He stood up and gave her a hug. “Whither Beau goes... you know.”

  “Katrina! I haven’t seen you since Jewel’s wedding. You look fab.”

  Katrina nodded once. “Renee.” Her tone was tart and her expression did not veil her disgust. I’d never known Katrina to be unfriendly to anyone.

  “Well, damn girl, who peed in your pear brandy?”

  “Renee, you tried to break up my brother’s wedding to Jewel. You hit on my date to the wedding, and you’ve slept with Beau. I got nothing good to say to your trampy pseudo-bougie ass.”

  Whoa! This was just . . . whoa. I absorbed all of the best that I could and settled in to see what would happen next.

  She and Katrina locked eyes for a heated moment before Renee shrugged a gleaming bare shoulder. “So be it. Who’s the silent diva?”

  I blinked twice. “Are you talking to me?”

  “You’re the only one I don’t know, sweetie.”

  I hated when southern women called each other sweetie without having the familiarity to do so. It smacked of pretention and rudeness. Everyone knew it was a put-down and meant that person didn’t really care what your name might be. Yeah, I really didn’t like this chick.

  Beau took one look at my face and stepped forward. “Renee Nightengale, may I present Belle Richards?”

  Renee’s whole attitude changed at hearing my name. “The designer? Former model?” She dropped down into the booth next to me uninvited. “I’ve been dying to meet you!”

  I inched closer to Katrina and gave a tight smile. “And now here you are, sugar.”

  “It’s providence! I’m in public relations, and my client, Royal Mahogany, is interested in doing a spread featuring your clothing. I was going to reach out to your people next week.”

  “How providential,” Katrina muttered and motioned for the waiter to hurry bringing the next round over.

  Royal Mahogany would be a nice get, for the promotional power they brought to the table. Working with this chick? Not so sure about that. None of those thoughts showed on my face
when I answered her. “Well, let’s do that. Call over next week, and we’ll set something up.”

  “Wonderful.” She smiled broadly before looking from Beau to me and back again. “Are you two together? Like together ?”

  I looked at Beau; he arched a brow to await my answer. “No,” I said vehemently. “Not at all.” Oops. That might have been a little forceful. The easy smile slid off his face, and the look he shot my way was not pleasant. “We work together. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Renee asked, sliding her glance back and forth again.

  “C’est tout—the lady says ‘that’s all,’ then that’s all. Why do you ask?” Beau answered with more bite in his voice than I’d ever heard.

  Renee slid out of the booth and wrapped her arm around his. “In that case, come sit with me for a minute, won’t you?”

  He glanced at me as if expecting me to say something to stop him. I met his gaze and shrugged. His life after work was his own. I had no claim to stake. Do whatcha wanna do, my look told him. He nodded slowly. Message received, loud and clear. He smiled down at Renee. “Pourquoi pas?” He reached into his pocket, drew out some cash, and tossed it toward the table. “Kit-Kat?”

  “What?” she snarled at me, at Renee, at the money on the table, and finally at her eldest brother.

  “Don’t wait up.” With that, he turned and walked away with that trifling-ass chick on his arm. My stomach twisted a little at the sight of him walking away, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

  Said chick looked over her shoulder with a smug smile. “Nice seeing everybody!”

  The waiter finally rolled up with the drinks, and we all gave a Really, dude? look that had him announce in a rush, “These are on the house. Sorry for the delay.” He set the check down and disappeared again.

  “So . . . who is Renee, and why don’t I like her?” I asked Carter and Katrina while I reached for another flute of sparkling wine.

  Carter laughed. “Do you really want to hear this story?”

  I nodded. “I think I do.”

  Katrina caught a waitress passing by. “Miss, we’re going to need snacks and shots.” The waitress nodded and rushed away.

  My eyes went wide. “Oh, damn. Really?”

  “Really,” Carter agreed with a head bop.

  Katrina started in. “Renee was Jewellen’s best friend.”

  “Was?” I prompted.

  “Don’t jump ahead, missy.” Katrina downed her wine and smacked my hand.

  “My bad. Do continue.” I took another deep sip.

  She continued. “Jewel and Rome met because Renee’s former fiancé, Gregory, played basketball in a weekend league that Roman belonged to.”

  “Former fiancé?” This story was already off the chains.

  Carter laughed. “Wait for it.”

  “Renee dragged Jewel to Greg’s game. Jewel met Rome, and romance happened.”

  Remembering how happy they looked together earlier, I would say that’s a vast understatement. “Clearly.”

  “Clearly.” Katrina smirked.

  Carter chimed in, “But Renee is one of those women.”

  “What kind of woman is that?” I thought I knew but I was curious to hear a man’s perspective on it.

  “Girlie, you want to hear the story or not?” Carter chided.

  I put my hands up. “Sorry, sorry. How do you know all this?”

  “I’ve been to enough Montgomery functions to have heard this story backward and forward. Plus, I was around for some of it.”

  “Okay. Carry on.” I was dying to hear the rest of this tale.

  “Thank you. Now, Renee is the kind of woman who is never—”

  Katrina broke in. “Ever, ever, ever—”

  Carter picked it back up. “—satisfied with what she has. She always thinks there’s something bigger and better just around the corner for her. So there she was deep into a romance with Greg, who by the way is generally good people. Then one day at a pool party at Jewel’s house, her eye falls on Beau.”

  “Were you at that party?” Katrina asked him curiously.

  “Yes; I came in late. Right around the time you started running folks off at the spades table.”

  “Ah, good times.”

  I knew I didn’t like that woman. I pursed my lips. “So, in spite of being with ‘good man Greg’ Renee has her eye on Beau and . . .” I made a rolling motion with my hands to indicate that either one of them could continue the story.

  Carter continued. “To be fair, Beau had his eye on Renee as well. He’s been known to appreciatively scan a fine female form from time to time.”

  “Understatement,” Katrina said under her breath.

  “Nothing wrong with appreciating a good-looking woman. I’m sitting over here in heaven right about now. Every guy in here wants to know what the hell kind of magic I have to keep the two most beautiful women in the room riveted on my every word. And here I am telling a story about some other brother who abandoned the table. My life!” His face spread into the largest grin ever, and we couldn’t help but laugh. The waitress slid an appetizer sampler platter in front of us with a round of rum shots. Katrina reached for a crabcake.

  “Okay, Renee and Beau fall in mutual admiration of each other’s form . . .” I prompted and grabbed some sort of a deep-fried eggroll.

  Katrina started in. “Well, that’s how it began between them. A few words and a shared dessert at a pool party. Next thing you know Renee was showing up places she knew Beau was going to be. Beau started receiving invitations to events and when he arrived—guess who would already be there?”

  “Ah.” I was beginning to see the writing on the wall with this story. It wasn’t pretty.

  Carter picked it back up. “Fast forward to this huge party. Some froufrou society ball for a cosmetic company or something.”

  Katrina cut her eyes at Carter and interrupted. “That froufrou ball was to launch me as the spokesmodel for Royal Mahogany, sir.”

  Carter loaded his plate and continued. “Oh. Well done, then. But the thing was at some point, we look around and Renee—”

  “Who worked for Royal Mahogany at that time and was managing the campaign,” Katrina supplied.

  “Had disappeared, and so had Beau.”

  “Uh oh,” I muttered.

  Carter inclined his head. “Damn skippy, uh-oh. Later we find out that Greg and Veronica, another friend of Jewel’s, go looking for dear fiancée and find both her and Beau doing the do in one of the hospitality suites.”

  Worse than I imagined. “Not caught in the act?”

  “In. The. Act. Beau, with a face full of Renee all out in the open without the door locked.”

  “The visual. Carter—please! I don’t need that in my head,” Katrina moaned.

  I could’ve lived without that as well. Slanting a glance toward the two of them, I could picture it all too well. “So that was it with good guy Greg.”

  “Oh yeah. Good guy Greg is now engaged to Veronica,” Carter supplied.

  “Wait, the other friend?”

  “It’s a cluster,” Katrina snickered.

  “That’s the story of Beau and Renee’s romance?” Seemed like more than a one-nighter between them.

  Carter shifted uncomfortably. “Well that, plus the six months he lived with her after Greg moved out.”

  My mouth fell open. “That’s just . . . ratchet. Completely tacky. That’s just . . .”

  Katrina offered, “Beau. That’s just Beau.”

  I shook my head. “He’s not like that.”

  “He’s not like that around you.”

  “Until tonight. When you sent him that I could give less than a damn look,” Carter murmured.

  Katrina snapped, “And shoved him back toward that trifling barracuda who was so pissed off that Jewel was getting married and she wasn’t that she made herself a royal pain in the ass right until the wedding day, when we threatened to beat her ass if she didn’t play nice.”

  Wow. �
��I didn’t give him any such look!” Had I?

  “You even added a carry your ass on shrug!” Carter supplied with a side-eye.

  “Well, we’re not together. I don’t think we’re going to be together. It’s just a bad idea to pursue it all the way around. And now that he’s—” I gestured toward the dance floor where he and Renee were simulating sex acts to the beat of “Hotter Than July.”

  Katrina sighed. “I have to admit that I didn’t like the thought of you and Beau together. It felt a little too incestuous at first. You’re like a sister to me. He’s like a brother to me.”

  “He is your brother, girlie.” Carter took the champagne flute out of her hand and pushed the last of the parmesan potato skins toward her.

  “Whatev. I’m just saying that, now that I’ve seen you and Beau working together and hanging out, I think you’d be really good for each other. You balance each other out. You keep him focused, and he keeps you from getting too tightly wound. I think you’re soul mates.”

  Did she just say soul mates? Seriously? I dropped the carrot stick I’d been nibbling on and stared at her. “How many glasses of champagne have you had, exactly?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m still speaking la vérité de Dieu!” Katrina slapped her hand down on the table and half stood in the booth. “Beau! Get off that skank and come sit with your soul mate.”

  “Ah, Jesus.” I closed my eyes in silent prayer.

  “Time to go. Shots up, people.” Carter downed his shot, waited for me to follow suit, and grabbed Katrina’s hand to keep her from taking another sip of anything. Beau looked over from the dance floor, and Carter warned him off with the universal Don’t come over here unless you want trouble head shake. Beau turned back toward Renee.