by Emery, Lynn
Lyrissa laughed nervously. “How right you are.”
Mr. Taylor sat down and crossed one long leg over an-other. “You know, she seemed particularly uptight.”
Lyrissa’s heart thumped hard. “Did she say anything?”
“Well, we talked about how you were searching the family history. I explained the importance of establishing a provenance.” Mr. Taylor’s eyes lit up. “Maybe there are some nasty family secrets you’re close to uncovering.”
“Nothing that exciting, I’m afraid.”
Lyrissa’s mind whirled, wondering if the wily old lady was on to her. Surely Noel’s behavior might make her want to investigate Lyrissa. Julie would certainly encourage such a move. Time was running out.
A flutter of guilt unsettled her stomach. Lyrissa could only imagine Noel’s reaction when the truth came out. Once, she’d looked forward to that day. The anticipated thrill of victory was definitely gone. Still, she had to go through with it. “The Stroll” belonged to her family. She thought of the pain passed down through generations. Even more, she thought of two proud, resourceful Joubert descendants. Mama Grace and Aunt Claire had done so much for Lyrissa all her life.
“Too bad. A spicy scandal would add to the value of the collection and give us publicity. You can’t pay for that kind of advertising.” Mr. Taylor grinned at her as he stood. “Keep digging, dear.”
“I will.” She watched him leave. “Believe me, I will.” She had to go on. Yet the mental image of Noel smiling at her with trust and affection haunted her for the rest of the day.
Chapter 15
“I hope this is important, Julie,” Carlton snapped. “I’ve got a desk piled high with work.” He walked ahead of her into his office. Contrary to his claim, the expensive walnut desk appeared very neat
She glanced at the modest stack of files but did not comment. “I hired a private investigator to look into Lyrissa Rideau’s background.”
“You’re obsessed with this woman,” Carlton said with a slight smile of amused contempt. “Overkill, if you ask me. All because Noel has the hots for her.”
Julie ignored the dig. “Here’s his report”
Carlton sat down without looking at the folder in her hand.
“Parents died when she was young, raised by grandmother and great-aunt did well in school, the usual.” Julie sat down in the leather chair facing his desk.
“Why should I be interested?” Carlton threw her an impatient glance, and then went back to the file.
“Because the board listened to her advice about the collection, and Lord knows what else.”
His head snapped up. “What does that mean?”
“Miss Georgina doesn’t like it, but she has to rely on Lyrissa’s input. Noel is more interested in her below the neck. Men are so stupid,” she added with force.
Carlton rocked back in his chair. “Big surprise. Noel and Lyrissa are lovers.”
Julie cringed at his terse statement. “She’s a novelty. He’ll dump her like the rest.”
“Maybe.”
“What are you talking about?” Julie snapped.
Carlton smiled. “Office gossip says Noel spent a lot of time in that office with her when she was working here.” “Like I said, he’ll get tired of her soon.”
“And you’ll be right there when he does.”
“Noel will come back to his roots,” Julie replied.
“Great. You and Noel will stroll hand in hand one day. Anything else?” Carlton went back to reading the contents of a file on his desk.
“This investigation of Lyrissa Rideau skims the surface.” Julie tapped the bound report on her knee as she spoke.
“Maybe that’s all there is. She’s just another pretty face trying to catch a rich husband.”
“A pretty face with a master’s degree in art history, working on her Ph.D.” Julie pursed her lips.
Carlton wore a half-smile. “Not that it bothers you.”
“I have my MBA,” Julie snapped.
“But Noel isn’t gazing at you over a glass of wine.” “Don’t be so smug, Carlton,” Julie shot back.
“Face it, babe. Noel is not going to buy you that three- carat engagement ring you want so badly. He’s screwing both of us the way I see it”
Julie threw the report down onto his desk. “What are we going to do about it, then?”
“We?” Carlton let out a short laugh. “I plan to run this company one day.”
“From a jail cell?”
Carlton blinked as though she’d slapped him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Noel is arranging an audit,” she replied.
“Yes, a management consulting team will look into the way we run the business.”
“And a financial audit” Julie nodded as his eyes widened.
“B-But the audit isn’t due for seven months. He can’t do that.”
“He’s the boss. You should have been paying attention” Julie added with a nasty smile.
“Damn it” Carlton rubbed his face hard.
“Look, we both want payback. I can help save your butt. Let’s help each other.” Julie sat forward.
Carlton took his hand down and cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t waste time. I have a pretty good idea what you’ve been up to, but I’ll need details.” Julie’s hazel eyes narrowed to slits. “Trust me or you’ll go down.”
“Why should I? You might end up with everything and leave me out in the cold.” Carlton stared back at her.
“The board would never let me nm this company, you know that. I’ll help you get control, and you’ll make me VP of operations,” Julie said with confidence.
“And you’ll get back at Noel. It’s a thin line between love and hate, huh?”
She stood and looked down at him. “You want my help or not?”
“I don’t have much choice. But don’t fool yourself that I trust you,” he said.
Julie’s thin lips curled. “The feeling is mutual.”
Lyrissa watched Noel out of the corner of her eye. He’d handled himself well. Of course he’d been schooled in the social graces like any well-bred Creole heir. Still, his reaction to her artsy friends had been admirably restrained. Especially considering the outfit her friend Izzy was wearing that afternoon. Isabel Canton breezed around the Beaux Arts Gallery in a diaphanous outfit of lime green, purple, pink, and royal blue. She wore hot pink tights beneath the long, flowing tunic. Izzy was the owner of the gallery. Noel had been pleased when Lyrissa had invited him to the opening of her latest exhibit.
“Lyrissa, babe!” Izzy threw out her arms and came at them like a runaway Mardi Gras float. “I’m thrilled you could come. And even more thrilled at what you brought,” she said, eyeing Noel.
“Save me,” Noel mumbled.
Lyrissa stifled a giggle. “Noel St. Denis, this is our hostess and longtime patroness of the arts Isabel Canton.”
“Not that long a time. She makes me sound so old,” Izzy purred at him.
Noel put an arm around Lyrissa’s waist. “Nice to meet you.”
Izzy put a hand on his free arm and squeezed it. “You run Tremé Corporation. Solid muscles, for a man who sits at a desk most of the day.”
Noel wore a gracious smile. “Thank you. Your show seems to be going over well.” He skillfully extricated his arm from her grasp by putting Lyrissa between them.
If she was put out, Izzy didn’t show it. Instead she continued to leer at him. “Yes, everything looks so good.” “Behave, Izzy. He’s talking about the art,” Lyrissa said firmly. She leaned against Noel.
“How selfish, Lyrissa.” Izzy pouted at her, and then her face cleared into a smile. “But I can’t really blame you.”
“Izzy, you’re too much.” Lyrissa laughed.
“Well, sugar, I’d better circulate. Helps the sales if I give the minglers lots of attention. Goodbye, Noel.” She made a kissing noise at him and left
“Whew! That was cl
ose.” Noel shook his head as he watched her leave.
“Oh, please. With those strong arms I’m sure you could have gotten away from her.” Lyrissa looked at Izzy. “Of course, she does know Tae Kwon Do.”
“Very funny. Just don’t ever leave me alone with her.” Noel put his arm through hers as they walked around looking at paintings. “But she did give me an idea.”
“Leave me out of that scene, honey.” Lyrissa giggled at the scowl that brought.
“I meant about our collection. We could have a show like this.” Noel nodded around the room.
“A show?”
“Yes. We have an old house nearby that’s just been renovated. I’d like to show it to you. My property manager, Keisha, could be here in ten minutes.”
Lyrissa’s throat went dry. “I thought you hadn’t decided to sell any of the art in your collection.”
“I didn’t say we’d sell anything, but we could at least generate interest.” Noel took out his cell phone and hit a button. “We can go have coffee while we wait for Keisha.” “I think you’re trying to run away from Izzy,” Lyrissa joked with a grin. Still she tried to think of a way to head off this new idea.
“I think you’re right,” he said. “Hello, Kee. Listen...” They were walking down Magazine and turning a corner onto Antoine Street ten minutes later. They sat outside a small coffee shop sipping cafe au lait and waited for his property manager. The weather was beautiful as they watched the Thursday afternoon traffic. Noel told funny stories about his family until Lyrissa was nearly in tears.
Lyrissa shook her head. “You’re making this stuff up.” “You’ve met a few of them, right?”
“Oh, Lord, yes!”
“Then you know I don’t have to make up wild stories.” He grinned at her. “You see we’re not all that bad.”
“Solve a mystery for me.” Lyrissa grew serious.
“I’ll try.” Noel took a sip from the dark brown mug. “How can your family still think skin color matters? I mean, we’ve gone through decades of civil rights and the whole Black is Beautiful movement.” Lyrissa expected him to become defensive. Instead, he looked thoughtful for a time.
“It’s not simple to explain. The whole attitude about skin color got mixed up with snobbery about heritage and class. Skin color became a symbol of being descended from wealthy French or Spanish ruling class families.”
“Maybe so, but it’s still destructive. Racism mixed with classism is just another way we’re divided.”
“I agree. But it’s not as bad as it used to be,” Noel replied.
“Bad enough,” she retorted.
“But better,” he insisted. “And don’t think I’m naive.” Lyrissa smiled at him. “I can’t imagine you being naive about anything.”
“Now you solve a mystery for me,” he said. “What do women want?”
Her smile widened. “Sorry, I’m sworn to secrecy on that one.”
“Come on, I answered your question. I’m serious.” Noel playfully nudged her arm.
She shook her head. “There are as many answers to your question as there are women on this earth.”
“Okay, I’ll make it easier. What do you want?”
“I want to be a curator at a small museum. Then one day I’ll open my own gallery.”
“What about your personal life? Marriage, kids, a Lexus SUV?” Noel’s easy smile didn’t conceal his keen interest in her answer.
“I’m concentrating on the professional part right now. I can’t see past getting this dissertation finished. Grad school is a killer.” She neatly sidestepped his question.
“But you want security and a good lifestyle, or else you wouldn’t be so ambitious.”
“Don’t we all?” Lyrissa studied his expression.
“Some women will do anything to get it, though. Men are like prizes, objects to be used.” Noel’s brow furrowed.
“Sounds like you’re testifying based on personal experience.”
“I’ve had my close calls,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want a model wife who looks good in the family portrait. I want something real.”
“I see.” Lyrissa looked away from his intense gaze. “Not like your parents, I suppose. Sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s okay. They’re the poster couple for how not to run a marriage.” Noel sighed.
“Bet that was no fun for you, either.”
“I learned to duck when the dishes started flying,” he quipped. “It took me a long time to figure out marriages could be happy.”
“So you know loving marriage isn’t an oxymoron.” Lyrissa laughed.
“Yeah, I’m learning something new all the time.”
He put an arm around her chair. His smile softened into a lovely invitation. Lyrissa accepted it and leaned close until their lips touched. She closed her eyes. His light kiss felt like honey flowing into her body. When they broke apart, both were breathing heavily.
“Now what?” she murmured.
A young woman the color of cinnamon approached before he could answer. “Sorry, it took me a while to get here. Busy day and it’s not over yet! Hi.” She smiled at Lyrissa.
Lyrissa smiled back. “Hi.”
“Keisha Collins, this is Lyrissa Rideau. Sit down and take a deep breath. I’ll get you a latte.” Noel patted her arm.
“I wish, boss. I’ve got an appointment to meet a client in twenty minutes. He’s interested in the Basin Street building. Here you go; the keys and the code card. I wrote down the number.” Keisha handed him an envelope.
“Thanks, Kee.” He took it from her.
“No prob. Gotta get moving. Nice meeting you, Lyrissa.” She waved and strode to a black Acura Legend parked across the street.
“Let’s go take a look,” Noel said.
They walked back to Magazine Street. The day was still bright, even though it was early evening. Several joggers sped past them. Lyrissa admired several restored homes as they strolled the three blocks. Noel stopped in front of a three-story house painted pale yellow with white trim. A white wooden fence surrounded it and stone steps led up to a wide porch.
“Here we are. Built in 1843, it was the home of Thomas Chaisson. Tommy, as he was affectionately known by his friends, made his fortune in real estate.”
“Very interesting. A relative?” Lyrissa added.
“His sister married into the family. Tommy never married.” Noel led her up the steps and unlocked the door. A soft beeping sounded until he slid the code card in and punched in the number.
Lyrissa walked ahead of him as he locked the door be-hind them. She headed into what must have been the for-mal parlor. It faced the street. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave an excellent view of the neighborhood.
Noel joined her. “It still needs some work.”
She turned in a circle. The fireplace had a mantel made of ivory Italian marble. “The atmosphere is a perfect back-drop for the collection, even the more modem pieces.”
“Let’s take a look upstairs.” He took her hand and led the way.
“This is beautiful wood. What is it?” Lyrissa ran her fingers along the smooth surface.
“Rosewood. We had to strip several layers of varnish from it. This wallpaper is original, too.” He pointed to the textured creamy walls.
They reached the second floor. A large center room had a lovely medallion set in the ceiling. Lyrissa studied the detailed carving with great interest. A few pieces of period furniture were scattered around. “This must have been a drawing room.”
“This was the master bedroom,” Noel said close to her ear.
She could feel his breath on her cheek. He pulled her into his arms. His hands trailed down her sides to her hips, and then he kissed her neck.
Lyrissa sighed when he pressed against her. He cupped a breast with one hand and ran the other up her skirt. She should have protested, but instead she sighed again. He guided her to an antique lounge chair.
“You feel so good, Lyrissa,” he whisper
ed.
She sank onto the chair with him. In seconds she’d kicked off her leather pumps and pantyhose. Noel unzipped his pants. He moaned when she reached inside the fly. Lyrissa kissed his face as her fingers gently massaged him until he was rock hard. His fingers rubbed her mound until she was senseless.
“We can’t. We don’t have a condom.”
Noel opened her blouse and the front hook of her bra. “I have one,” he whispered and sucked her nipple hard. “You came prepared?”
“Since the first kiss I’ve been prepared.”
Lyrissa tried to feel incensed. Instead, she only felt white hot with hunger. She arched against him as his tongue circled her tender peak. He moaned deep in his throat. Music played in the distance, soft chiming notes that soothed her. The notes chimed again insistently and she froze.
“The doorbell!” she said. “Someone’s at the front door.”
“They’ll go away,” he mumbled without taking his mouth from her breast.
She let go of him and tried to sit up. “It might be Keisha.”
Noel ignored the racket. “Somebody at the wrong house.”
“Then why do they keep knocking? We’d better see who it is.” Lyrissa pulled her skirt down.
“Damn it. I’ll get rid of the idiot.” Noel quickly re-arranged his clothes with angry, jerky movements. “Don’t move.”
Lyrissa scrambled into her pantyhose and shoes. After checking her hair in a mirror, she went to the landing. Noel looked back at her and licked his lips. A series of hard knocks rattled the wooden door. He growled and went down the stairs. Moments later she heard the door open.
“What are you doing here?” Noel said.
Chapter 16
Julie stared at him through her designer sunglasses. “Keisha mentioned you wanted the keys to this house. I thought maybe you were showing it to a prospective tenant. You might need my help, since I know a lot about the property.” She peered around him into the house.
“I don’t need help,” Noel said in a short tone. “Thanks anyway.”
“I see.” Julie took off the sunglasses and stared over his shoulder. “Hello, Ms. Rideau.”