by Emery, Lynn
“Good. You’ve got no business making promises to Mouton. I don’t care what he dangles in front of you.” Henry marched out without saying goodbye.
“Grandfather knows you very well,” said Marius, wearing a sly grin.
“And you well enough to know you’re incompetent to run Jove Enterprises,” Darcy snapped.
Marius lost the grin. “He hasn’t made that decision yet.”
Darcy shrugged. “Who did he have handle Pantheon?”
“You’re too cocky for your own good. He also said Simon has done a lot for him.” Marius looked smug as his insinuation hit home. “Oh yes, it could be Simon.”
“No, Grandfather wants a Jove to run the business.” Darcy did not seem confident of his argument.
“You sure of that?” Marius goaded.
Darcy thought for a while and dismissed the notion. “Your paranoid delusions are getting the best of you. Grandfather will reward Simon, but not that way. If you’re really nice to me, I just might let you keep your job.”
“Don’t start planning on all the changes you’ll make as the new boss just yet,” Marius snarled. He balled up his fists.
“Goodbye, Marius. By the way, we’re low on coffee down at the office.” Darcy strolled out with a chuckle.
“You’ll get yours, cuz,” Marius mumbled. “I’ll see to it.”
*
Marcelle wiped her mouth and sighed. “It’s so nice to eat somebody else’s cooking for a change. I don’t get out much, you know.”
“Gee, I never would have guessed.” Rae laughed, remembering the way Marcelle had arranged for her mother-in-law to care for the baby in record time.
“It’s a blessing to have two grandmothers, both of ‘em housewives, living within fifteen miles.”
Rae and Marcelle were sat in Nadine’s, a small po-boy shop on the highway just of town. Marcelle was taking her time over a ham and cheese sandwich while Rae ate one containing fried oyster.
“Hmm, good. I missed Louisiana home cooking more than I realized.” Rae had her eyes closed. She chewed the oyster with Louisiana hot sauce slowly, relishing it.
“Girl, you were lucky to be traveling all over, going to Sweden and everything. I’d give up a little fresh seafood for a while just for that.”
“It was great. You know, my band is better known in Sweden and Great Britain than in the United States. Those folks go crazy for blues. Zydeco, too.” Rae thought of the enthusiastic crowds shouting for more into the early morning hours. “I did love that part.”
Marcelle finished the last piece of her po-boy. “You sure you want to give that up? Hey, you said your CD is selling pretty good?”
“Yeah, well.” Rae took a deep swallow of strawberry soda. “I don’t expect we’ll be superstars, not playing Zydeco or blues. But we made a living at it. I even managed to put away some money.”
“Hey, you’re spoilin’ my image of the party-hard blues woman livin’ for today. Come on now, cher, I was havin’ fun livin’ vicariously.” Marcelle grinned at her impishly.
“Oh, I partied. For a long time I was young and stupid. I’d have a lot more money if I hadn’t been.”
Rae thought of the first three years after leaving home when she concentrated on forgetting Belle Rose and Darcy. She’d come close to losing herself in drugs. A succession of men did little to ease the loneliness.
“Rae, about Darcy…” Marcelle glanced around to make sure no one was sitting close by. “Are you–”
“Over him? Oh yeah!” Rae gazed out of the window at the passing vehicles. “It took me a while to figure out why he got to me.”
“And..?”
“He treated me special. Darcy had a way of making me feel like I was the center of his universe. I needed to feel that way, Marcelle.” Rae thought of the ache of being treated as an outcast during her childhood.
“I know. But you hid it well.”
Rae reached out and squeezed Marcelle’s hand. “You stuck by me when the other kids were treating me like dirt, even in high school. You’re the best, girlfriend.” Her voice broke. Outside her family, Marcelle had been one of the few people she could count on to stand with her.
Marcelle squeezed her hand back. “So are you. And I’m glad you didn’t let that slimy night crawler ruin your life.”
“Teenage intensity! I thought I’d die when he cut me off cold.” Rae shook her head slowly. “I wanted to be loved so badly. The oily, charming surface seemed like genuine caring.”
“Little weasel.” Marcelle took a sip of her soft drink. “You know what? He’s been sorry ever since. Had the nerve to tell me you were the most exciting woman he’d ever been with.”
“Now that’s pitiful,” Rae said with a sharp laugh. “No wonder he’s got so many ex-wives.” She sighed. “Lord, I’m glad adolescence is behind me. Isn’t it something how it takes all your twenties to get over it though?”
“Who’s over it? I still think my nose is too big. And Carmela Tate is not forgiven,” Marcelle said.
Rae looked at her in astonishment. “Oh please, girl. We were fifteen. So Carmela told everyone your bra size – so what?”
“And she waved my little double A cup she’d sneaked from my gym locker.” Marcelle looked just as angry now.
“Everyone knew Carmela was a jealous big mouth. I warned you not to tell her your business. But you wouldn’t listen.”
“She’s still like that. I saw her at mass the other day. Had the nerve to say Freddie Jr. made an eighty-nine on a quiz while her Darvin made a ninety-four. Pooh-ya!”
“Get over it, Marcelle.” Rae laughed out loud. “What do you care what she says? Gee, small-town life.”
“That’s right, Rae. Can you take it after being in big cities all this time?” Marcelle studied her.
“I’ve thought about that.” Rae looked around at the modest diner. “But I’m not that rebel trying desperately to make everybody sit up and take notice.”
“Hey, lots of our old classmates have been askin’ about you. Now that you’re a recording star up for a Grammy, they wanna be your pal,” Marcelle said.
“I’m not up for a Grammy. Where in the world did they… Marcelle! You didn’t?” Rae’s mouth hung open.
“Well, I might have mentioned something to Carmela. You should have seen her face.” Marcelle cackled.
“Shame on you, telling tales in church.”
“We were on the parking lot. Besides, I said you might be up for a Grammy.” Marcelle put her hands on her hips. “Well, you’ve got as much chance as any other musician.”
Rae could not refute her logic. “You’re priceless.”
They both laughed until the tears flowed. After several minutes they sat still, feeling weak, drinking their soda refills.
“Seriously, Rae, being back home means you’ll run into Toya and Darcy on a regular basis.”
“I’ve all ready seen Toya.” Rae felt a tightening in her stomach.
“And..?”
Rae shrugged. “She said hello, I said hello, and that was about it.”
“For now. You keep meeting with her ex and the claws will come out.” Marcelle nodded with vigor.
“What do you think of Simon St. Cyr?” Rae tried to make the question sound casual. She remembered the warm, tangy smell of his cologne. It pulled her to him, making it hard to keep her mind on his talk of wetlands and tourism.
“The man is fine. He’s got a body that won’t quit. Girl, that chest, those arms, thighs like steel and a cute–”
Rae cut her off, “Marcelle, you’re a married woman.”
She gave a sassy wink. “I’m married, not dead. I can enjoy the view.”
“I meant what kind of person is he? A great body and a handsome face isn’t everything.”
“So you agree he’s super fine, eh?” Marcelle leaned forward to peer into Rae’s eyes.
“He looks okay. But I’m more interested in how to deal with him. Can he be trusted?” Rae fiddled with the straw in her glass witho
ut looking at Marcelle.
“You think he’s hot, admit it!” Marcelle poked her with a finger.
“Will you grow up? This isn’t junior high, for goodness sakes.”
“Rae, don’t try to fool me.”
“I ask you a simple question and you gotta get all into this stuff,” Rae huffed.
“Well, that answered my question. And I hear he gave you the look, too.” Marcelle wiggled her eyebrows. “Miss Jarreau says that day he came up to you downtown he was really smiling and Toya was furious. She said–”
“Give me a break! I only just met the man. So he seems like a nice person.” Rae thought of the handsome profile. A finger of heat traced a line up her back. “With a great smile and a sexy voice. So what?” She stared out the window toward town as though trying to see him.
“Beep-beep-beep, danger ahead,” Marcelle said in a sing-song voice. “You gonna have a serious Jones for that man if you don’t watch yourself.”
“Get real. Simon St. Cyr is not going to use any fake charm on me. Bet he’s got as much moral fiber as Darcy. The St. Cyrs and Joves hung together, dumping on my family.” Rae tried to conjure up the old bitter feelings to counteract her reaction to the sensuous man.
“The Joves more than the St. Cyrs. Simon wasn’t even part of that since he was older than us and went to a prep school in New Orleans.” Marcelle eyed her. “And he’s nothing like Darcy, or most of the young men around here, except for my Freddie, of course.”
“Oh really?” Rae affected a nonchalant attitude. She leaned back in her chair in a casual pose.
“He’s got a reputation for being honest in business.” Marcelle’s lips twitched with mirth at the studied indifference that Rae tried to convey. “As for women, the talk is he’s a real gentleman.”
Rae considered this statement. In Louisiana, being called a real gentleman meant he treated women with respect, without lying or sleeping around. Very interesting. So Simon St. Cyr was an upstanding citizen, as far as anyone knew. That did not mean she should trust him.
She lifted her chin. “All the same, I’m going to check out his proposal seven different ways from Sunday, as the old folks say. He’s not going to fool me with superficial charm.”
“Right. Judging from the look on your face when his name came up, I’d say you don’t think his charm is all that phony.” Marcelle leaned forward and tapped her friend’s arm.
“It’s business.”
Rae thought of her promise to Lucien. It was all so complicated. To find out what happened to Pawpaw Vincent, she needed money. Getting the dance hall in the shape she wanted would take a sizeable amount of cash. But what would Lucien really think of selling even a small portion of their land to a St. Cyr, much less almost two-thirds? Coming home has opened up old wounds and a new can of worms. Rae wondered how she could stay true to herself and her father.
“Your daddy would understand if you can’t handle all this on your own, Rae.” Marcelle seemed to read her thoughts as usual.
“There’s got to be another way. I can’t let St. Cyr and Darcy think they’re my only chance.” Rae tapped out a beat on the table top.
“If I could, I’d float you a loan. Of course, pennies won’t help.” Marcelle chuckled.
“That’s it!” Rae hugged Marcelle. “Sugar, why didn’t you slap some sense into my head before now?”
Marcelle wore a baffled expression. “What?”
“I’ll apply for a loan from the bank. Of course, I’ll need a business plan. Only part of the property could be used as collateral.” Rae looked pleased with herself.
Marcelle looked doubtful. “If you say so, but–”
“Then I can let Simon St. Cyr know he’s not the only game in town.”
“Henry Jove sits on First Federal’s board of directors. You think he’s going to let you get a loan?” Marcelle shook her head.
“Damn, it was nice while it lasted.” Rae slumped back in her chair. She sat forward again with a determined expression. “If push comes to shove, I’ll put it on my MasterCard.”
“Sure you will,” Marcelle said with a wave of her hand. Her eyes went wide at the look on Rae’s face. “You’re not jokin’?”
“Nope! I’ll listen to Simon St. Cyr. But he won’t pull the wool over my eyes with his smiling face.” Rae wore a smug smile.
“You sure are hot to deny Simon St. Cyr has had an effect on you.” Marcelle gazed at her. “Doesn’t sound like just business to me.”
“Well it is,” Rae said. She lifted a shoulder in a careless gesture. “If I let him get close, it would only be to drive Toya crazy, which doesn’t seem like a bad thing at all the more I think of it.”
“Just be careful. You might start off pretending and find the only person you’ve trapped is yourself,” Marcelle replied.
“Hey, I’ve got it under control.”
Rae felt a tickle of uneasiness despite her words. The smell and feel of Simon standing close rushed back with a vengeance. Why did he have to look at her with those soulful brown eyes? Why did he have to look so… delectable? She found herself beginning to speculate how his arms would feel around her. Stop that! Simon St. Cyr is just another man. Period.
Rae steeled herself against anymore stupid fantasies about a man who could very well be in a conspiracy to trick her. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to keep him out of her head for good.
Chapter 5
High thin clouds like cotton balls drifted across the blue sky as an occasional breeze rustled the green leaves of trees bordering the bayou. Rae stood next to Simon, trying hard to keep her mind on business. The lovely weather made it hard to concentrate on such dry matters as surveys, water-quality studies and profit margins.
Simon, dressed in a tan, cotton sport shirt and jeans, made it even more difficult. Rae kept mentally nudging herself to remember that he was a St. Cyr. Yet every time he walked away, her mind flipped the page back to very un-business-like activities they could engage in on such a day. He was no muscle-bound type, but the broad chest and shoulders were built well all the same.
“Do you think this would be too close?” Simon was pointing to something with his back to Rae.
“Hmm?” Rae watched the movement of his shoulders as his arms moved.
“Yeah, maybe the visitors’ center should be farther down from your property.” Simon looked back toward Lucien’s house, though it was not visible at this distance. “Don’t want too much traffic near your home, right?”
“Um-hum.” Rae followed him, noticing how small beads of sweat stood out on his brown skin, especially on his top lip. She imagined the taste; a mixture of salty and sweet.
“Of course, it probably won’t be a mob of folks. More like a steady trickle most days. But, of course, during the summers when the kids are out of school or on holiday, it could get crowded.”
“You bet,” Rae said right over his shoulder. She did not move when he turned suddenly to find them almost nose to nose.
“What do you think so far?” Simon spoke in a quiet voice. He looked into her eyes steadily.
“So far, so good,” she said, smiling at him. “Show me more,” she murmured, wondering only for a split second if this was wise. But Rae had never been the shy, retiring type.
Simon swallowed. “Right, well, here we have–” He tried to open out the rolled-up plans, but dropped them instead. He bent over to retrieve them.
“Nice view,” Rae said.
He straightened up and turned sharply to face her. She was gazing out over the water.
“Yes. It is.” Simon’s full mouth lifted at one corner. “Ms. Dalcour–”
She smiled at him sweetly. “Call me Rae.”
“And you can call me Simon.”
Rae’s heart thumped at the sound of his deep voice inviting her to become more intimate. Was there more? She brushed a stray tendril of hair from her eyes. Simon watched the movement of her hands. Rae could feel a pull between them. Suddenly, she was anxious and unsure wheth
er she was as much in control as she thought.
She moved away from him, feeling off balance for the first time with a man this close. “Well, Simon, you haven’t mentioned any environmental impact studies.”
“They’ve been done. We’re just waiting for the written report. Preliminary findings are that our plans for park management would have little, if any, negative effect.” He studied her for a moment.
“Yes, the plans for waste disposal and park rangers.” Rae knew all this. She’d read the bound report.
“Of course, I can’t guarantee no pollution. But it will at least be kept natural.”
“With folks trampling all over the place, I doubt it.” Rae crossed her arms and stared at him in challenge.
Simon did not flinch. “True, but–”
“And you don’t really know how much pollution there would be.”
“We can keep it clean. According to the plans, the state will help,” Simon said.
Rae snorted. “Please! You can’t count on them. This is a backwater town with a population that’s forty-nine percent black. Daddy always said it’s why this parish had to fight for everything.”
“True. Since the 1930s, we’ve been scuffling to get our share of public works for the taxes we pay. But things began to change in the fifties.”
“You think so, huh? Well, I’d have to see it to believe it.” Rae was more skeptical of the system since she’d had experience of being outside it.
Simon looked confident. He had the experience of a man who’d been on the inside, forcing things to work. “I’m not saying it’s perfect. But we’ve got the Legislative Black Caucus and several white politicians working for us.”
Rae strolled toward the edge of the muddy water. “Sounds good, but I don’t know.”
“Listen, people have been coming on your property for years, fishing, tubing and having picnics. Mr. Lucien once complained to me that he was constantly running off kids who trashed up the place.” Simon walked to stand next to her.
Rae’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Daddy talked to you?”
“I’d see him around town sometimes. At first he just gave me the eye when I spoke to him.” Simon grinned.