by Emery, Lynn
said, the entire collection is a treasure. Julie, there’s the mayor and his new wife. I must thank him for helping us out last month with the charity drive.” She left them alone.
“So you were saying about this artist?” Julie asked.
Ebony walked up at that moment. “Lyrissa, this show is marvelous” She turned to Julie. “Oh, hello. I’m Ebony Armstrong.” She stuck out her hand.
“Julie Duval.” Julie gave it a quick shake and let go.
“Lyrissa, the head of our firm would love to meet you. Would you excuse us?” Ebony whisked Lyrissa away be-fore Julie could answer.
“Thanks. I owe you big time,” Lyrissa said in an undertone.
“Honey, Julie D. wants to hurt you bad. Watch your back.”
“I know, girl. She’d kill to have Noel,” Lyrissa said in a low voice as she smiled at those around her.
“With her rep, I believe it! I have friends who have done business with her. She’s ruthless.”
“Yes, but I can handle her little bursts of jealousy.” Still Lyrissa frowned as she thought of their exchange.
“Listen, I saw those two eyeing ‘Sunday Stroll.’ I say we get rolling. We can organize the documentation and meet next week. Then—”
“No,” Lyrissa cut in sharply. She rubbed her forehead. A tension headache throbbed behind her eyes.
“I’ve been working my butt off for two weeks. Let’s move,” Ebony said with intensity.
“I know, but...” Lyrissa heaved a sigh. “I can’t just hit him with it out of nowhere. Not now.”
Ebony maneuvered them into an alcove away from the crowd. She jerked Lyrissa around by the arm until they were nose to nose. “You didn’t!” She stared into her eyes and gasped. “Oh hell, you did!”
“I didn’t plan it. We just sort of—”
“What, tripped and all your clothes flew off?” Ebony squinted at her. “Who do you think I am, Bozo the Fool?”
“You’ve seen him!” Lyrissa blurted out. She sighed again.
“Well...” Ebony took a deep breath and let it out. “I can’t argue with you there. The brother has it all!”
“And then some.” Lyrissa tingled all over just thinking about his hands on her body.
“So the plan is off completely? Please warn me to get out of town when you tell your grandmother!” Ebony gave a melodramatic shudder.
“I’m going to change the plan, not give it up.”
“Since I’m your attorney, you might want to fill me in. I think we both need a fresh drink.” Ebony darted off to catch a passing waiter. She gave him their empty glasses and came back with refills. “So tell me this new strategy.”
“I haven’t worked out the details yet,” Lyrissa said with a slight frown.
“Just how far have you gotten?”
“Uh, that’s it.” Lyrissa wore a weak smile. “We’ll think of something before we tell Mama Grace and Aunt Claire.”
Ebony’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Forget it. I plan to have urgent business elsewhere that day, girlfriend.”
Lyrissa gripped her forearm. “Oh, no you don’t, girlfriend. You’re going to help me.”
“Lord, have mercy!” Ebony gulped a mouthful of wine and swallowed it. “You’ve forgotten something, Lyrissa. The story is going to nm in the Picayune real soon.” “We’ve got to stop that reporter.” Lyrissa chewed her bottom Up until her raisin lipstick came off.
“Right, stop Dionne Jackson from printing a juicy scandal about a prominent Black family. We’ve got all the makings of a movie of the week here. The woman loves that kinda stuff.”
“You’re a hot shot young lawyer. Talk to her.” Lyrissa gripped her arm tighter.
“Let go before you amputate my arm.” Ebony pried Lyrissa’s fingers from her flesh.
“Sorry. I’m in deep, Eb. We’ve got to head this whole thing off.” Lyrissa looked up to find Noel staring at her. He smiled. She managed to smile back.
Ebony followed her gaze. “Damn, this love thang has gotta be good. Okay, I’ll talk to Dionne. I’ll tell her we’re not sure of the facts yet and mention the word ‘libel.’ Maybe that will get her attention.”
“You’re wonderful, Ebony.” Lyrissa gave her a quick hug of gratitude. “No wonder you’re considered one of the most intelligent and impressive young attorneys in the city. Hell, in the state. I—”
“Don’t lay it on too thick, please. I didn’t bring my hip boots,” Ebony quipped. She looked at Noel again. “I have to say I don’t blame you one bit, sugar.”
Lyrissa gazed at him. He was six feet three inches of caramel delight on two legs. Yet he was more than a pretty package. She loved the way he approached life. Noel St. Denis seemed to take the best of his world and toss the crap that came with it. Noel nodded to her before a well- dressed couple claimed his attention. When she turned, Lyrissa met Mrs. St. Denis’s stony gaze. Julie stood beside her, whispering low in her ear.
“I’ve got to figure this out soon, Eb,” Lyrissa murmured. “Real soon.”
Chapter 20
Two days later Lyrissa sat across from her grandmother at the breakfast table. Aunt Claire shot sideways glances at them as she ate her scrambled eggs and grits. She cleared her throat finally after ten more minutes of tense silence.
“We’re supposed to get rain this afternoon. That cute new weatherman on Channel Six said so.” Aunt Claire’s tentative smile soon faded when no one answered. She tried again. “Take your umbrella now that you’ve been warned, Lyrissa,” she said cheerily.
“She doesn’t listen to good advice, Claire.” Mama Grace dabbed her lips with a paper napkin. “Lyrissa thinks we’re just a couple of old fools.”
“I didn’t say we should just forget the painting,” Lyrissa blurted out.
“Warning them is the same thing, Lyrissa Michelle.” Mama Grace threw down her napkin.
“Noel isn’t the kind of man you think he is.”
“I gave you more credit, child. He’ll be on the phone to his lawyers the minute you walk out. Don’t doubt it!” Mama Grace stabbed a forefinger at her nose.
Lyrissa crossed her arms. “I don’t want him to read about it in the newspapers.”
“He will put his family first. So should you” Mama Grace glared at her.
“I won’t walk over him to get the painting. Isn’t that why you despise them so? They didn’t care who got hurt as long as they profited.”
“Let me remind you that we’re at a disadvantage in this situation, young lady.”
“I don’t believe Noel will want to keep ‘Sunday Stroll’ when I tell him the truth and what it means to us.” Lyrissa wore a stubborn expression. “I’m sure he won’t.”
“A few moments of pleasure will not override years of upbringing.” Her voice sliced through the air like a razor. “That’s enough, Grace,” Aunt Claire said loudly.
“No, she has to hear the truth. The St. Denis family wasn’t satisfied with holding onto stolen goods. They discredited your great-grandfather and ruined his business because he dared to tell everyone what they’d done. Now our family can’t even preserve our ancestor’s historic home because we’re poor.” Mama Grace stood and looked down at Lyrissa.
“You’re judging Noel by people he never even knew— people who died decades before we were born. It’s not fair.” Lyrissa stared back at her.
“If life were fair, young lady, we wouldn’t need to have this discussion! He’s a St. Denis,” Mama Grace shouted.
“Decide right now if you’re going to turn your back on this family.”
Lyrissa shoved her chair back and stood. “Don’t be absurd. I’m going to get the painting back.”
“Your father needed treatment, but we couldn’t afford it. Our family’s inheritance was stolen, our reputation destroyed by the St. Denis family. The consequences have haunted us for generations.”
Lyrissa flinched with pain at the mention of her father. “I know how much Daddy suffered. But we can’t blame everything on o
ne act committed over a hundred years ago, Mama Grace.”
“Can’t you see that this is about more than one painting?” Mama Grace replied, her voice strained with frustration.
“You have to trust me on this,” Lyrissa said forcefully. “We’ll do it my way.”
“You’re only thinking of him. Well, I won’t let you throw our legacy away.” Mama Grace marched out of the kitchen.
“God!” Lyrissa sat down hard and put her head in her hands.
Aunt Claire put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m starting to think we’ve lost our way.”
“No, Aunt Claire. Mama Grace has freaked out. She’s more interested in revenge.”
“Guilt,” Aunt Claire murmured.
“What did you say?” Lyrissa looked at her.
Aunt Claire shook her head. “Ah, cherie, it’s a sad story. She’s right about one thing, though. The St. Denis family has dogged us for generations. This feud started with the painting and grew.”
“Tell me the sad story.” Lyrissa turned to her.
“You see us as little old ladies, a bit strange, but sweet.” Aunt Claire smiled.
“No, babe. I think of you as lovable eccentrics.” Lyrissa patted her cheek.
“Same thing. You’re not far wrong, either.” Aunt Claire waved a hand. “But we were young once, of course. You should have seen us back then, the Joubert sisters.”
“I’ve seen the old photos.” Lyrissa grinned. The faded black-and-white pictures showed two lovely young women.
“We went to parties every week. Mardi Gras season was the best, of course. And we had lots of gentlemen admirers, naturally.”
“Naturally. But what’s that got to do with ‘Sunday Stroll on the Faubourg Tremé’?” Lyrissa blinked at her.
“That painting has a way of reaching into the future.” Aunt Claire stared ahead as though looking back in time. When she spoke, her voice was so soft, Lyrissa had to lean close to hear her.
“We moved in the same social circles as all the best families. Of course, we were Jouberts. Our grandmothers insisted that we go to all the right parties. We even rubbed shoulders with Georgina Rohas. That was before she married into the St. Denis family.”
“I thought—” Lyrissa broke off.
“That we weren’t acceptable? Well, we weren’t on the same level as the Rohases, St. Denises, and some others. But our grandfather had rebuilt the family business and we had money. Plus the Joubert name did mean something. So we got our share of invitations to the best functions.” “Mrs. St. Denis snubbed you every chance she got. I’ve heard the stories.” Lyrissa frowned. “And I know the feeling. Even some of the nuns treated the darker skinned kids in school differently.”
Aunt Claire gazed at her in dismay. “Was it still so bad at St. Mary’s? Lord, I never realized. You always seemed to enjoy school. You were in so many clubs and such.”
“I didn’t want you to worry about me. Anyway, I’m tough, like you two.” Lyrissa smiled in spite of the dull ache from the memories. She still felt sad for the little girl convinced she was so ugly.
“I’m sorry, baby. We only wanted you to have all the advantages.” Aunt Claire wore a regretful expression.
“It was years ago. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. I had two teachers who really encouraged me.”
“God has a plan for good even from evil.” Aunt Claire made the sign of the cross. “Thank you, Lord.”
“Now back to the painting,” Lyrissa prompted her. “You never wondered how we knew Georgina had the painting?” Aunt Claire tilted her head to one side.
“You had old letters and journals from Jules. Right?” “True, but they only referred to Gustave and his grandson as being in possession. Any of the descendants could have had it.”
“Come on, ted me the whole story, then.” Lyrissa sat back, eager to hear.
“Grace had more gentlemen callers than most of us girls. Including a certain St. Denis boy. Phillip St. Denis,” Aunt Claire said dramatically, and spread her arms wide.
“Get outta here! Mama Grace was tippin’ with Georgina’s man?” Lyrissa’s mouth hung open with shock.
“Grace had him first, dear. Oh yes,” Aunt Claire nodded with a grin. “They were quite the talk of New Orleans
Creole society. Mother was fit to be tied, let me tell you. Grandpapa demanded that Daddy put his foot down. Grace defied them all, but it just wasn’t meant to be.”
“He dumped her and married Georgina Rohas because she was from the right family,” Lyrissa said with certainty.
“Tossed her aside like that.” Aunt Claire snapped her fingers.
“I can see why she’s so upset about Noel and me. But I still don’t see the connection to the painting.”
“While they were still courting, one of Phillip’s elderly aunts died. Grace had always loved old houses. He took her to see all the antiques and fine furniture.”
“Right, they were alone in a huge mansion to look at antiques.” Lyrissa raised her eyebrows.
“Don’t be impertinent.” Aunt Claire’s eyes danced with merriment. “The point is, Grace saw Sunday Stroll on the Faubourg Tremé’ and naturally recognized it. She told Phillip. The poor dear trusted him.”
“Oh.” Lyrissa felt a chill as she remembered her defense of Noel to Mama Grace. How her words must have brought back painful memories.
Aunt Claire nodded slowly. “So you see, Phillip let Grace believe they would become engaged soon. He didn’t outright promise, just said things like ‘We’ll be together, love.’ Instead, he sent her a short note saying they couldn’t see each other again. Then the painting vanished. By the time Grace told our parents and grandparents about it, well...” “They’d assembled lawyers and stonewalled,” Lyrissa added.
“That’s about it. They put out all kinds of nasty innuendos about us. Grandpapa’s business suffered.” Aunt
Claire sighed deeply. “Grace has blamed herself for that and more since then.”
“Did they really ruin his business on purpose?”
“Oh yes! Poor Grace. She read about Phillip’s engagement to Georgina in the paper.”
“Mama Grace really believes all our financial problems are her fault?” Lyrissa felt sorry now that she’d been so harsh with her grandmother.
“After years of struggling, Grandpapa was the first in years to rebuild the family fortunes. They made sure he lost business.”
“I don’t blame her for being angry. But it’s not all her fault. Sounds to me like Great-grandpapa was overbearing and inflexible.”
“True. Grandpapa was hot headed. He didn’t follow his lawyer’s advice. He even accused Phillip’s grandfather of embezzling from the bank. Old Henry St. Denis was on the board of Citizens Trust.” Aunt Claire shook her head. “Our father didn’t help by trying to punch Phillip’s father in the nose at the country club.”
“Have mercy!” Lyrissa sighed. “Mama Grace needs to let it go, Aunt Claire. We can’t let the past rule us anymore.” “Grace sees a lot of herself in you. You’re both determined, stubborn and—”
“I get your point.” Lyrissa cut her off with a grin. Her expression grew serious again. “She thinks I’m repeating her mistake. It is kinda spooky.”
“Seems we’ve come full circle.” Aunt Claire studied her for a time. “You’re between a rock and a hard place, cher,” she said quietly.
Lyrissa gazed out the window. Doubts crowded out her confidence in telling Noel everything. She’d felt so sure when she was in his arms. What if she were repeating the past in some cruel twist of fate?
“Any ideas on how I can straighten out this fix I’m in?” Lyrissa searched her face, hoping for an answer.
“It’s going to be messy no matter what you do. The question is, what are you willing to give up?”
Lyrissa leaned both elbows on the table and wore a bleak expression. “That’s not what I wanted to hear. But it’s the truth. The light at the end of this tunnel is a speeding train.”
Chapter 21
>
Lyrissa flipped through the full-color glossy brochure with a grim expression. So for she’d found ten typos. “I just may have to kill somebody,” she muttered.
The day was heading south big time. Blue Monday had started with a frustrating drive to work through city traffic. Mr. Taylor walked around in a crabby mood all morning. Now she had to give him the bad news about the brochure they needed in less than two weeks. The phone rang.
“Damn it! I can’t get anything done.” She snatched the receiver from the base and strained to be polite. “Hello, Taylor Gallery. How may I help you?”
“Hi, sweet thing. And how is your day going?” Noel said.
“Don’t ask.” Lyrissa balanced the receiver on her shoulder and continued to look at the photos of brass sculptures.
“Things will get better today, babe,” he replied.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m hangin’ on by a thread and it’s not even noon. How are you?”
“Fine and mellow, now that I’ve heard your voice. Meet me for lunch and I’ll make sure the rest of the day is better. I’ve got a nice surprise for you.”
“Okay. I sure could use something good to make me forget this hellish morning.” Her irritable mood eased at the thought of seeing him. Yet Noel’s deep laughter through the phone sent chills through her.
“The real good stuff will come later.”
“Can’t wait. Meet you at twelve-thirty?”
“Yes, at the Gumbo Shop. Bye, baby.” Noel made a kissing sound before the phone clicked off.
“Bye, darlin’.”
Lyrissa smiled as she hung up the phone. Her smile faded as she remembered her dilemma. A small voice reminded her that time was running out.
“Okay, okay,” she snapped at herself. “I’ll tell him.”
Mr. Taylor strode into her office. “What is going on with you and Georgina St. Denis?”
“Nothing that I know of. Why?” Her heart thumped. “She just got through slicing and dicing my butt. Something about a reporter, slanderous lies, and we’ll be hearing from her attorney. She says you have no integrity.” He leaned on her desk, both palms flat. “Lyrissa, what in the world is the woman ranting about?”