“There’s plenty of Favreaus around this area. Maybe you remember one from high school or in the neighborhood.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll go work on that announcement.”
“I have a fabulous idea. Take some time after Mr. Favreau comes to go visit Mrs. Allan. Take a stroll, make her feel wanted, necessary. She probably has something good to say about her experience.”
Jess nodded and walked to her desk. “I will.”
She looked at the clock. In half an hour, she could go. A walk sounded perfect and would take her mind off the inappropriate thoughts she’d been entertaining all morning. And, she’d use it to figure out how to change her life. “Got it. I still have to count the tithes from yesterday and enter them, so there’s enough to occupy me while I wait for your guest.”
“Good. Good,” he called down the hallway as he left to sing to the preschool kids. “When you’re done with that, put it all on my desk.”
She could deal with it, but he had to check it. He even made the deposits at the bank, even though that was clearly in her job description. Calling on Mrs. Allan, who’d been a performer in her day, would lift her spirits after she tallied the money and before she wrote the notice that had grown into an article. She really needed a pick me up, like putting her head on Drew’s chest and whatever else followed.
****
Drew pulled off his tie and tossed it on the front seat of the car. The noose seemed too formal for a meeting with a preacher, and it made him look like a cop, which he had officially left behind. He’d signed on as a corporate security consultant with a good buddy from college, and instead of inspecting perimeters and computer firewalls, he found himself doing the same type of investigation he’d done on the force up in Maryland.
He didn’t think of churches as corporations, but someone was stealing money from them, and he knew he could figure out who. But, he had to appear convincing as a regular Joe, not a kick-your-ass investigator. To that end, he hadn’t shaved for four days. He even liked the shadow that graced his jaws and chin. He might even sport one of those closely trimmed beards he’d noticed around the city. He wondered if Jess would like that. She hadn’t complained the other night.
Getting her out of his thoughts had proved impossible. He woke on Saturday and Sunday thinking about holding her on his lap after sex. She’d talked about places to go in the city and which bands to hear. He cut short her list of places to eat when her body shivered in his arms. She didn’t ask him to stay with her, which suited him. He’d found his siren; he couldn’t afford to be dashed on her shores just yet.
He put his phone in his boss’ mailbox to ensure he wouldn’t call her. Ward laughed when he tossed the piece of electronics to Drew when he walked into the office.
“Shut up,” Drew growled. He headed to the coffee pot that sat on a table along the wall. He liked how Ward set up the one room that made up the office. Two desks facing each other with the coffee pot and printer in the middle of the space. The guy had even bought a dark blue rug to cover the beige flooring.
“Stripper got a little too close?” Ward pushed his chair from his desk.
“Nothing like that. A singer. Young, curvy, amazing voice. I could take this one home to my grandma.” He poured a cup and added a sugar pack. Another thing to like about Ward—he hadn’t stocked any artificial sweeteners.
His boss lifted an eyebrow. “How much does she know about you?”
“Close to nothing, except this business.” He sat in one of the chairs meant for clients, although they expected to do more visits on site to get a feel for what the businesses needed in terms of surveillance and security.
“Not going to get in the way?”
“Nope.” Drew coughed after a sip of coffee. He’d not had chicory mixed in his morning brew for ages. “Don’t laugh at me again. Tell me you have milk or something to cut this stuff with.”
Ward tossed a crumbled bit of paper at a brown square beneath the coffee pot. “Check the date, though.”
Drew grabbed the small bottle from the box fridge and sniffed after opening it. “Fine.” He leaned on his desk. “Will I just be doing the diocese job, or do you have others I can handle at the same time?”
“This is your lucky morning. We’ve got a small company that needed some help looking into the background of an employee, and it’s enough to keep you busy, but not overwhelm you. I listed that you have a PI license and added that to our services. Friend of a friend.”
“Word of mouth, huh?” Baltimore ran like that, too, and New Orleans wasn’t nearly as big of a city.
“And knowing the right people.”
“In the space of a phone call, right?”
“Yep.”
Drew slapped his leg. “Sounds good to me. I get a pay check on time and back up if I need it.”
“First meeting is three blocks away in twenty, which gives you time to make that lunch meeting where you pretend to be someone you’re not.”
“As long as I don’t have to wear a tie to either.” He’d had enough of that as a cop. He wanted no more nooses or cuffs.
“We can set the company policy. I’ll even put it down in writing that wearing a tie is optional. Shaving, though, isn’t optional. A clean face leaves a clean impression.”
“Hey, been clean shaven for a long time. I’m making an effort to get into the New Orleans lifestyle, letting my hair down, but this time it’s a beard.”
“Ah, NOLA will do that to you naturally. You’ve got evidence of that already. A singer has you surrendering your phone.”
Drew decided to master this longing before Ward made a habit out of ribbing him. “That’s done with now. It’s why you had it in the first place. I’m all cured. I am confused about who Nola is and what she is doing to me naturally.”
His boss chuckled. “N-O-L-A, or NOLA, stands for New Orleans, Louisiana. This city, it’s like the dirt under your fingernails. It never quite goes away, no matter how many times you scrub. Let’s get this job started, then. We’ll meet later to bang out the details.”
“Sure enough, boss.” Occupation made all amorous thoughts vanish. He was counting on that.
****
Jess’s head swam with numbers. She fought the urge to shut down and admit defeat like she used to do. She focused on the key pad and whispered the numbers as she typed them into the spreadsheet.
For so many years, no one recognized her dyslexia. When a music teacher suggested she sing the problems on the math homework, a world of academic success opened for her. She’d grown out of much of the disability, but numbers still posed problems now and then, especially when she was distracted. Mainly by thoughts of a man. So, singing it would be for today.
Her fingers pressed the keys in a staccato rhythm. At the end of the string of numbers, she pressed the enter key. With Bill not in the office, she practiced vocalizations as the document saved and traveled over the wires to his office.
Clapping startled her. “That’s not what I expected to hear in a church.” The voice made her gasp.
Drew, dressed in a button-down shirt unbuttoned at the neck with flat-front pants that had her staring at his crotch, leaned against the archway that led to the sanctuary. She bit her lip and then let it go when she remembered the last time this man made her press her lips between her teeth. He’d been deep inside her in the courtyard of her apartment. “I don’t usually sing in here. You…”
Drew stalked toward her with a hunger in his eyes. “Caught you behaving badly?”
She leaned toward him, wanting to have him pull her against his chest, but this time with all their clothes removed or at least more than just her panties. His dress shirt covered his luscious, muscled pecs, but she knew they were there. Stubble enhanced his strong jaw, and she wished he’d rasp his face against the inside of her thigh again.
The clack of footsteps in the hall brought her back to the office. She tugged on the waist of her dress as she stood from her chair.
Welcome to our
sanctuary. What brings you here, sir?” She hated the formality, but the environment required it. He cleared his throat, and she watched as an impersonal glint replaced the warmth of desire. “I have an appointment with Reverend Townsend.”
She frowned. He was the Mr. Favreau meeting Bill? “You’re here to choose a church? This church?”
“Sinners need shepherds, too.” He winked.
She squeezed her legs together and hoped he didn’t notice. “If you’ll have a seat,” she swallowed, “I’ll get Reverend Townsend.”
“If you’d prefer, I’ll pretend I’ve never met you.”
“No.” She pressed a hand to her chest trying to make her heart slow. “I’m no good at that, concealing things.”
“You seem nervous about knowing me here.” He settled into a chair and filled it completely.
Her hand fluttered. “It’s unexpected, and I don’t do what I did the other night.” She lowered her voice. “At all.”
“I saw you sing and enjoyed every minute that I could hear your voice.” He smiled, just one corner of his mouth lifted.
Such an innocent statement but so full of meaning. She crossed her legs so tightly she leaned to the right. “Yes, at the fundraiser.” She raised her voice to emphasize that meeting place over April’s party. “I’ll be back, Mr. Favreau.”
“Can’t wait until I see more of you, Ms. Gold.”
She stopped at the door, and her heart smashed against her ribcage. “Oldham. Gold is my stage name. They don’t like it around here. So, try not to call me that, please.”
“Sure.”
She walked down the hallway to the school taking deep breaths. If she tried to explain her distress, she’d fail. Even if Bill wouldn’t recognize it, her sister would. The sex kitten she’d kept covered tightly had slipped from its hiding place.
Chapter Seven
Drew tapped a pen against his desk as he mulled over the information he had about the church investigation. He’d made the most out of his visit four days ago and had found that he missed Jess. He’d seen her twice and known her intimately once. No matter what he did, a vision of her invaded his thoughts each day.
Of course, his investigation did put him in contact with people who knew her, if even as just the church secretary. He’d chatted with the head of the preschool when he’d expressed interest in helping a non-existent sister find a place for her toddler. She explained the day and mentioned Jess when she talked about the pickup process at the end of the day. She’d left him in the office alone for long enough that he knew the preschool wasn’t the source of the missing money. Those ladies didn’t hide anything. They didn’t even have a password on their computer system.
The choir director taught music for one of the universities and dressed to the nines. He only called her Jessica and raved about her voice. He compared it to a siren’s song.
“You only want more.”
Drew nodded. That he understood. Then the music man talked endlessly about the private lessons he gave. When Drew told him that he didn’t have children, the man shared how much money he made in a week with all the lessons he gave.
“I’m not rich, but I live in happy comfort.” Drew moved him to the bottom of the list.
He hadn’t met Mrs. Townsend, and he spoke of that to Ward before they went out for the evening. “She doesn’t work at the church except for their soup kitchen days, and this past week, I was working.”
Ward shrugged as he straightened his tie. “So, we fix that. What day?”
“Wednesdays, at 11:30. They’re always looking for help. I won’t look weird just showing up.” Drew pointed to his friend’s neck wear. “Thought you said this was casual. What’s with the tie?”
“Promised Jeanne that I’d look a little dressier. She won’t care about you.” Ward turned off the light. “She’s meeting us downstairs. If you ever get a wife, you’ll find yourself doing things just to make her smile.”
Drew led the way down the stairs and tried to think of something besides the lovely Jessica Gold. He’d bought an expensive ticket to a fundraiser just to see her again. He imagined he’d do a lot to keep her smiling if he managed to keep her in his life after the investigation.
Outside the building, Ward’s wife, Jeanne leaned on a car. Her green dress shimmered in the breeze. Drew understood why his boss would get fancier for her. The woman exuded confidence from every pore in her thin body.
After Ward kissed her, Drew greeted her and thanked her for letting him butt in on their date. “Are you sure I’m not intruding?” She touched him on the arm and told him not to worry.
“Company keeps us from having the same conversation.” Ward patted Jeanne’s hip.
“Whoa, I have to be the one who livens the evening? You’ve got the wrong guy.” He preferred being the silent one who made a funny quip now and then. He considered himself a listener.
They drove the short distance to the theater with Jeanne talking the entire time. “I can fill your head with things to do here, and you can ask questions.” Jeanne said to him as he held the door to the large, almost boat-shaped building. “Like why is there a World War II museum in this city.”
“That’s a question I had, but it’s not at the top.” A hostess showed them to their seats in the theater festooned with blood red curtains and gold trim. His cousin, April, had similar window hangings, and from there he could only think of Jess. He liked her all dolled up for the stage, but the version at the church interested him, too.
She probably wore that demure dress that covered so much of her to emphasize the day job, but he’d stood there wondering what type of underwear she wore. Were there garters and a bustier, or did she only pull out the sexy lingerie for performances? He felt his dick bob in appreciation for the garters. They’d tickled his legs last Saturday night.
“I’m surprised you’re not out hunting that singer who wooed you last week. I didn’t tell you about that, Jeanne, but good luck getting much out of Drew about her.”
“Stop, Ward.” She gave her husband a gentle shove. “You don’t have to tease everyone.”
“It’s okay, Jeanne. I’m used to him doing that.” He rolled the program into a tube. “I’m not out looking for her, because of a complication.”
“What’s that?” Ward’s eyebrows met over his nose. He leaned around his wife.
“She works for the church.”
“Damn, that is an issue. Think she’s involved?”
“I don’t know. I hope not, but anything is possible.”
“What’s your plan?”
Drew knew what Ward really asked. He had to decide if he would use Jess to get closer to the truth or if he would keep her at arm’s length. He didn’t know, but he preferred keeping the relationship professional despite what his little buddy wanted. He was spared answering by the house lights dimming. For an hour at least, he’d lose himself in the music of the World War II era. Tomorrow would come soon enough for ethical dilemmas.
His thoughts of Jess vanished as a bugler opened the show. When the curtains opened, he shifted in his seat. In the middle of the trio gathered around a boxy, silver microphone stood Jessica Gold.
The spring green dress revealed her deep cleavage and hugged her hips and legs. He wouldn’t be able to flip that skirt over her ass. He’d have her undo those buttons under her breasts and shimmy it over her shoulders. He’d watch her nipples tighten while he played with them. Then he’d take one in his mouth.
Jeanne interrupted his fantasy when she whispered, “These ladies are great. Don’t you think?”
He nodded instead of speaking. He didn’t want her to hear the husk in his voice that the simple sight of Jess caused. At intermission, he’d ask someone about meeting the performers. Investigation or not, he had to have one more night with her.
As soon as the performance ended, Drew excused himself and shot a quick comment that only a cop, or rather a former one like Ward, would understand. “Something’s come up” was code for he wouldn’t
return.
A quick question to an usher led him to the stage door. He slipped in without anyone noticing or saying anything to him. In a few feet, he saw Jess. A gray-haired man stared at her chest as he talked and gestured. She was all smiles and nods. Drew took a step to interfere. He wanted Jess, and he’d not let a man that much older than her touch any part of her body. Before he reached her, the man held out a card that Jess folded into her hand. She agreed to call him. He slid past the bugler from the show and touched Jess’s arm as she waved goodbye to the man. Drew was glad to see him go. Jess was his.
****
Jess didn’t want to leave backstage. The new show, a feature at the dinner theater, brought the audience to its feet. The thrill had her heart thumping, and to have the television show representative waiting for them added another dimension. Her mouth hurt from smiling so much, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Except maybe someone to help her celebrate.
A figure striding toward her out of the darkness caught her attention. She knew those shoulders and those lean hips, and her mouth watered to see them coming her way. “Drew!” Jess grabbed him with both arms and kissed his cheek. “Oh my God, what a night!” She fanned herself after she let him go.
“Great performance, for sure. I feel lucky to have seen it. Sorry that I don’t have flowers for you, but I didn’t know I was coming until late. And,” he said as he took her hand in his, “I didn’t know your group would be a headliner.”
“That’s okay. You’re sweet to even think I need a gift.” She stopped herself from twirling in a circle. “The best thing just happened.”
A grimace flashed across his face. “What?”
Could he be jealous? Her stomach fluttered. This hunk of a man had those feelings about her. She squealed on the inside. “We were just invited to work on a soundtrack for a movie being made in New Orleans. There’s original music, and they need singers.” Her voice raised in pitch. She couldn’t help it.
“That’s what he wanted?”
“Yep. They like using local talent. We. Are. It.” She hugged him again, this time longer. Spice from his cologne tickled her nose. She breathed deeply, wanting more of the scent surrounding her. So male. So Drew. The width of his chest and the smoothness of his shirt beckoned her to explore. If only they could have privacy.
Behaving Badly Page 4