by Emery, Lynn
Lyrissa cleared her throat. “Hi.”
“What’s going on?” Julie stared at Noel.
“We’re planning a show of the collection,” Lyrissa said. She tugged at her skirt, and then stopped when Julie looked at her.
“I stored the old furniture and worked with Keisha on instructions to the man who restored the house.”
Julie tried to walk past Noel into the foyer.
He shifted to block her entrance. “We really haven’t gotten very far yet, Julie. I’ll let you know when we do.”
“Can I speak to you privately?” Julie asked in a taut voice.
“I’ll just have a look around the rest of the house,” Lyrissa said. She went down the hall and gently pulled a door closed. She could hear their muffled voices.
Minutes later she heard the staccato sound of high heels across the wooden floor of the porch. Noel opened the door.
“She’s gone,” he said, his expression grim.
“We should leave, too.”
“We didn’t finish our... talk. Let’s see more of the house.” Noel crossed the space between them in two long strides.
“Maybe her arrival was a sign we shouldn’t finish.” Lyrissa blushed at the way he gazed at her body.
“Bull.” He nuzzled her neck.
Lyrissa moved away fast, afraid she’d give in. “We’d better go, or we’ll set off the fire alarm,” she teased.
“Then come to my apartment tonight.” Noel held her hand. “I’ll cook us dinner.”
“We’ll see. I—”
“No excuses.” Noel jerked her into his arms. “Please, baby.” He sealed her fate by licking her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“There has to be something else!” Julie burst out in exasperation. The report landed on her desk with a thump when she threw it down.
The mild-mannered private investigator shrugged.
“Sorry, it’s the usual stuff. Her parents had problems with too much partying and drinking. You can’t blame her for that. The mother died when she was three, the father when she turned seven.”
Julie glared at him but said nothing. They were in her office. Everyone except Carlton had gone home. The usually busy offices of Tremé Corporation were quiet for a change. Silence stretched between them, broken only by an occasional phone ringing in the background. The man gazed back at her with an impassive expression.
“Mr. Hausey, I was told Crescent City Investigations was the best.”
He nodded. “You were told right.”
“Then why is this damn report—” Julie took a deep breath and let it out. She seemed to call up her charm school lessons. “Sorry. There doesn’t seem to be a lot here, Mr. Hausey.”
“You paid for a background check. Then you asked us to expand our research to her family tree. We don’t guarantee we’ll find compromising information you can use.” “But—”
“Ms. Duval, you weren’t specific about what we should look for,” Mr. Hausey broke in.
“Yes, yes. I know.” Julie rapped a fist on the arm of her chair.
“We did the usual criminal background check, credit history, and work history, and even poked into her old school records. You have the names of her great-great- grandparents and a little information on them,” he went on in a cold, logical voice.
Julie didn’t want logic. This was emotional and personal for her. She rocked forward in her chair. “Great. Maybe her nana was a kleptomaniac. How does that help me?”
Mr. Hausey stood and buttoned the jacket of his suit. “I suggest you read the report thoroughly, Miss Duval. You just might find something useful.”
Her upper-class good manners slipped again. “Like you care. You’ve been paid,” she muttered low.
“My report is very comprehensive. But if you get a lead on a particular avenue, call me.” Mr. Hausey spoke like a man used to dealing with unreasonable clients. “Goodbye,” Julie said with a sour expression.
“Have a nice evening,” Mr. Hausey replied without a trace of sarcasm and left.
“Here’s your nice evening.” Julie made a rude gesture as the door clicked shut
Almost immediately Carlton stuck his head in. “Sorry I got tied up on the phone. What did he say?”
“He said to read his useless report” Julie barked out. She flipped the pages with a muttered profanity.
Carlton strolled over to stand at her shoulder. He read a few lines, and then sat down on the edge of her desk. “Told you so. Money wasted.”
“You wait until I see Giselle! Best in the business, my ass!” Julie slapped another page flat.
“GiGi Babin, huh? She gutted her ex-husband like he was a fish.”
“Which is why I trusted her recommendation,” Julie exclaimed.
“GiGi doesn’t have the brains of a cucumber. Her father got the goods on poor Brandon.” Carlton shook his head in sympathy.
“Crescent City Investigations did the digging. But I got nothing, nothing.” She yanked another page open.
“Too bad. Now I’ll have to keep pretending to respect Noel’s opinions. At least for a while longer.” Carlton made a face at the prospect.
“You mean until Miss Georgina is ... out of the way.”
“Of course not,” he said quickly “I meant until everyone sees I’m right. I’ll be in control once he falls on his face.”
“He won’t. Noel is an astute businessman.” Julie grimaced.
“Why does everyone heap praise on him?” Carlton complained with a morose frown.
“Noel could build his own company from the ground up the same way his grandparents made Tremé so profitable.” Julie clenched her hands. “That Rideau woman has interfered with his work.”
“He’s not complaining, and I can see why,” Carlton added quietly with a wistful sigh.
Julie didn’t hear his comment. She was too intent on the puzzle of Noel’s attraction to Lyrissa. Her eyes narrowed to slits. “She’s so obvious. I can’t believe he doesn’t see through her.”
Carlton pointed to the open report. “Well, if you didn’t get ammunition from that, I guess you’re out of options.” “Damn it! Totally useless piece of sh—” Julie froze in the act of tossing it aside. “Wait a minute.”
“What? Did she get a parking ticket?” Carlton chuckled. “There’s something here that rings a bell.” Julie waved him to silence with one hand. She continued to read as he ignored her signal.
“You’ve lost perspective on this thing, Julie. Too much emotion wrapped up in the outcome,” Carlton said. “Typically female.”
Julie looked up at him. Her eyes glittered with triumph. “Is that right? Well, this typical female just might be on to something that you typical males missed!”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, girlfriend.” Ebony crossed her arms and stared hard at Lyrissa. They were in her apartment for a night of watching old movies.
“Listen, I couldn’t stop the art show. Besides, Julie is prowling around like an alley cat. At least this way I can keep an eye on things.”
“What if an art expert sees your painting and blurts out how much it’s worth?” Ebony plopped down on her sofa.
“Most experts have to be familiar with an artist’s work to fix a value. None would toss out a figure at first glance. Besides, not many specialize in eighteenth century New Orleans Creole paintings.”
Ebony munched on a cheese curl while she mulled over Lyrissa’s argument. “Okay, so now you have your family’s old letters, journals from Noel’s archives, and letters you found at the Louisiana State Museum.”
Lyrissa pointed a forefinger in the air. “Exactly. They even went to court. Now if I can find the trial minutes from 1822 when Gustave’s son was sued by Jules’s widow, we’ll have it made.”
“Leave well enough alone, girl. Make your getaway.” Ebony wore a worried expression.
“I was nervous about it, too. But the show gives me an excuse to hang around, Ebony. I’m a
lmost through with the appraisal. I need more time.”
“I was talking about this thing with you and Noel, Lyrissa. Have you gone out with him again?” Ebony squinted at her.
“We had to talk about the show” Lyrissa avoided looking at her.
Ebony shook her head. “Girl, you’re in deep trouble.” “Don’t jump to conclusions.” Lyrissa chewed hard on a corn chip.
“I know you.” Ebony pointed a cheese curl at her. “Are you going to tell him about the painting?”
“No way! I know what would happen.”
“So you’re falling for him, but you don’t trust him. Trouble, girl, big trouble. You’re in the fast lane on the highway to heartbreak.” Ebony shook her head again.
“I didn’t say Noel would do something sneaky,” Lyrissa said defensively. “His family might, though.”
“Right. He’s a genetic anomaly, nothing like his long line of cutthroat relatives.” Ebony wore a skeptical frown. “And I haven’t mentioned his rep with women.”
“He’s not like that.” Lyrissa pounded a throw pillow. “Noel is very active in raising funds for charity. He puts in long hours at the company and still finds time to help the community.”
“I’ll give him a good citizen certificate after we get the painting back,” Ebony said dryly.
“Cynical lawyer,” Lyrissa retorted.
“So you’re going to see him?” Ebony stared at her. “Like I said—”
“You have to finish the appraisal and work on the exhibit,” Ebony finished for her. “Yeah, right. And y’all have to work at his apartment.”
“Oh, hell!” Lyrissa gave up trying to fool her best friend. “Why does he have to be so ...”
“Fine, sexy, and a boy scout, too?” Ebony finished.
“I tried to stay out of his way, I really did.”
“He’s hot for you, too. If he’s a good guy, then he’ll do the right thing.”
Lyrissa punched the pillow harder. “It’s not just up to him. Besides, I’m not so sure he’s that good. You know how they are.”
“Right, close ranks and protect what’s theirs. But you said he’s different.”
“I can’t afford to risk everything on what I feel. I’m not thinking too clearly about him these days,” Lyrissa confessed.
“Yeah, I can see that.” Ebony shrugged when Lyrissa glared at her. “Hey, you said it first.”
“The Stroll means more to our family than money. I have to deal with him.” Lyrissa moaned at the thought of giving up his kisses.
“Yeah, but can you deal with you?" Ebony said.
“I’ll be okay. Let’s watch a movie.” Lyrissa jumped up and went to the VCR. “Something with lots of action. I’m definitely not in the mood for a love story. That stuff is too far from real life.”
Lyrissa shifted in the chair behind her desk. The day had dragged on and on. Mr. Taylor scurried around between projects, but managed to drive her crazy in between. At least work kept her mind off Noel most of the time.
Mr. Taylor dashed into her office. “I’m going insane. I can’t find the insurance file on the sculptures from Hobart’s Fine Art.” He raked his gray hair with one hand.
“Here, you gave it to me this morning. Everything is in order. The coverage is for $250,000.” Lyrissa handed him the folder.
“Thank God!” Mr. Taylor clutched it to his chest. “I don’t know why I’m stressing myself out. Things are going well for us these days.”
“Yeah, just dandy,” Lyrissa muttered.
“What’s with the gloomy face?” he asked.
“Nothing much. My stupid car is in the shop again, and look at this!” Lyrissa held up a wad of pink phone message slips.
“Uncle Shelton can help,” he said in a sympathetic voice. “I’ll return these calls. Hmm, all from Darlene Bracotta.”
“The woman can’t make up her mind,” Lyrissa said with disgust.
“Don’t worry about it, dear. I’ll handle her.” Mr. Taylor patted her arm paternally.
“Thanks.” Lyrissa’s expression didn’t lighten.
“Are you sure there isn’t something else?” Mr. Taylor sat on the edge of her desk.
Lyrissa sighed and shook her head. “I’m okay, just having one of those days.”
“I’m only a few feet away if you need me.” He beamed at her and left.
Lyrissa tried to concentrate on the invoices, but the numbers danced around like jumping beans. More than once she stared off into space. Her mind kept wandering back to Noel. Maybe she should tell him about the painting. He might understand. Then she thought about the St. Denis family.
“Yeah, right. And pigs might fly around the Garden District, too,” she muttered to herself.
“Hi.”
Lyrissa looked up to find Noel smiling at her. The familiar shiver went down her spine at the sight of him. He wore a charcoal gray suit with a light blue shirt.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
He came in and closed the door. “You backed out on me last night and I want to know why.”
“I thought it was best. I really was busy anyway.” Lyrissa avoided his gaze.
“I was on my way to the office after a meeting when something bizarre happened.” His expression was serious.
“Really?”
He nodded. “My car turned down this street and parked outside the gallery. I can’t explain it.”
“That is strange. You should get that car checked out.”
“Nah, the car is just fine. It brought me where I needed to be.” Noel sat down.
“I’ve decided to keep our relationship strictly business.” Lyrissa lifted her chin when she looked at him.
“Because of your professional reputation,” he said.
“Yes.” Lyrissa turned away from his gorgeous brown eyes.
“Is this a game?” he snapped.
“We shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”
“More than once,” he put in.
“Whatever. I realized what a mistake we were making. That’s all.”
Noel leaned forward. “I wouldn’t call the way we touched a mistake.”
Lyrissa gazed at him. The strong jaw and beautiful lines of his face hypnotized her. Noel St. Denis inspired lustful fantasies with just the lift of one dark eyebrow.
“The invitation is still open. I cook one mean pasta dinner,” Noel said.
“I can’t. Really.” Lyrissa tried to ignore the way her body craved him. If he’d just leave, she might get through the day.
“We have to finish planning the show, Lyrissa.” Noel frowned at her. “Your professional reputation is at stake, remember?”
“I’ll iron out the details with Keisha.” She stood her ground.
“No, you’ll deal with the boss.”
“Business only,” Lyrissa said firmly. She was surprised when he smiled at her.
He held out a large hand. “Goodbye, Lyrissa.”
She had no choice but to take it. Lyrissa braced herself for the reaction. Still she tingled when his warm flesh met hers. “Goodbye,” she said.
Noel started to walk out, and then turned to face her again. “I have a feeling we’ll talk again.”
“You don’t give up.”
“Like you said, I’m used to having my way.” He left.
Lyrissa had to admit his confidence aroused her. “Lord have mercy,” she said in a shaky voice.
Chapter 17
Noel rocked in his chair and tapped the tip of his pen on the tabletop. Carlton, Julie, and two other employees sat around the table in the small conference room adjacent to his office. They gave their usual mid-week reports, a practice Noel had started when he became CEO. Andre’s voice was only background buzz to Noel’s thoughts.
Once again he wondered where Lyrissa was at this moment and what she was doing. For the past three days he’d thought about her at odd moments, suddenly daydreaming while stuck in traffic or sitting in his office. Lyrissa Rideau had accomplished a feat no other woman
had before—she’d become a distraction. Noel’s reaction swung between excitement, irritation at himself, and anxiety that he was not in control.
“So that’s it. The micro-mall on Crowder Boulevard is now at fifty-percent occupancy. We really need to renovate to attract new tenants,” Andre said.
“Renovation might be an option. What do you think, Noel?” Julie asked. “Noel,” she repeated louder when he didn’t answer.
He glanced around them with a slight frown. “What?” Carlton lifted an eyebrow at him. “We’ve been talking about the mall on Crowder for the last fifteen minutes.” Noel smoothed down his silk tie. “I know that,” he replied shortly and stopped rocking his chair. “Thanks for the report, Andre.”
“And the renovations?” Carlton pursed his lips. “Renovations?” Noel blinked at him.
“Yes, we were discussing the possibility of attracting new tenants. Obviously your mind is elsewhere,” Julie said in a tense voice.
“Andre mentioned it to me two weeks ago. Excellent idea.” Noel nodded at the young man. “In fact I’ve already talked to several contractors about bids.”
“I say we sell. The whole area has gone down. Stats show that the upwardly mobile are moving to Chalmette and Mandeville. Let’s follow the money,” Carlton said.
“We should help revitalize these neighborhoods. The people who can’t move need drugstores, grocery stores, and dress shops, too.” Noel looked at his cousin.
“That property isn’t profitable and won’t be for years,” Carlton replied. “What we need is to increase income, remember?”
“We will in other ways,” Noel said evenly.
“A sale would bring a substantial infusion of money to help cash flow,” Carlton persisted.
“We’re working to create an enterprise zone,” Noel said. “In the short term we won’t make as much money. In the long term the tax breaks combined with a vibrant community-based economy will be very profitable.”
“Most enterprise zones don’t. Besides, we’re a business, not a charity. I’m talking about the bottom line.”
Noel decided he’d been patient long enough. “So am I, Carlton. As for the mall, the board agrees with me.” He stood to signal the meeting was over. “Andre, Eddie has a list of small business owners you can contact.”