by Dani Wade
Instead he nodded with as much respect as he knew how to show with a silent gesture, and kept his distance so that he didn’t spark any sense of threat.
Still, their expressions lingered in his mind as Trinity and Madison led him through halls and rooms filled with warmth. Dark shiny woods were everywhere. Fireplaces for the rare winterish night in the bayou. Intriguing nooks and crannies that he could just imagine young women like Trinity using to curl up with a good book. And there were enough creaks and groans to elicit a friendly ghost story or two.
“This is the floor Michael’s parents had made into suites,” Madison explained as they came to the third-floor landing. “It houses women with small children so they can all stay together, as opposed to the single women and teenagers in the individual rooms on the second floor.”
Suddenly a door opened and a tiny figure in black ran down the hall to slam into Trinity’s legs. Rhett automatically reached out to steady her, but she braced herself pretty well. She barely swayed as the munchkin called out her name. But it was the soft smile easing her expression that enchanted him.
She knelt down next to what Rhett realized was a toddler in a costume, just as a woman came out of the same door. “Barrett,” she called. “Come back here.”
The little boy twisted around with a serious expression on his light brown face. “Not Barrett, Mama,” he said, making his annoyance plain despite the half mask he wore. “I’m Batman.”
Rhett pressed his lips together to keep his laughter inside, noticing that Trinity and Madison did the same.
Batman’s mama was not as amused. “No, you’re Barrett. And you could hurt Miss Trinity doing that.”
“It’s okay,” Trinity said. She smiled down at the young man. “Did you want to show me your costume?”
“I’m Batman.”
“I see. And a very handsome Batman you are.”
“I’m a superhero.”
“Do superheroes like cookies?” Madison asked, garnering the toddler’s full attention. “Because I believe Roberto just unloaded some cookies that Miss Marie might not have put away yet.”
Barrett rushed for the stairs, his mother in full sprint behind him. “This kid!” she exclaimed as she rushed past.
Madison and Trinity giggled. “Poor Sofia has had her hands full from day one with that one,” Trinity explained.
“I can tell.”
“I do need to check that Sofia got herself registered for her radiology tech classes,” Trinity said. “Madison, why don’t you show Rhett the big surprise downstairs?”
Rhett watched her go, then followed Madison down the opposite hallway. He felt oddly cold without Trinity’s running commentary on Maison de Jardin. Madison did her best to keep up the history lessons until they came to a set of ornately framed glass doors. “This is the solarium,” Madison said as she let him through.
Rhett’s eyes grew wide as he took in what was essentially a two-story greenhouse. Fans circulated the warm air.
“Mrs. Hyatt, Michael Hyatt’s grandmother, had it added on to the original house and planted during their first decade of marriage. She did love her gardens.”
“If the gardens at Hyatt House hadn’t convinced me, this certainly would have.”
“She also wanted an ‘outdoor area’ that the children could enjoy, regardless of the weather. It maintains a steady temperature, and thanks to careful choice of materials, we haven’t lost a single pane of glass despite numerous hurricanes in the intervening years.”
Incredible. The brick-and-glass structure was home to numerous Japanese maple trees, climbing roses in shades of pink, cream and red, and some kind of pink flowering tree Rhett wasn’t familiar with.
He managed to drag his attention away from the fascinating scenery back to the woman with him. Reminding himself that he needed all the information he could get for his job, he asked, “How long have you worked here?”
She looked not quite as old as Trinity, maybe mid to late twenties, with the same haunted shadows in her eyes and determination in her attitude.
“I started helping out a couple of years back.” She nodded toward a thick patch of trees and bushes. “My family estate is over there. But I only went on salary last year after my father died. I learned the ropes from Trinity and her mother. As a lifelong caregiver, I felt I had a lot to offer. And Trinity really needed help after her mother passed away.”
“How did she pass?”
“A heart attack. Very sudden and sad. We all lost something precious that day.” She glanced around the solarium. “I just hope we don’t lose everything now...without Mr. Hyatt to protect us.”
“Do you think a sale is a possibility?” After seeing the place, Rhett could certainly see how anyone would view Maison de Jardin as a cash cow.
She involuntarily scoffed, then quickly put her hand over her mouth to conceal it. “Well,” she said after clearing her throat, “the last six years I’ve been here, the current Hyatts have never set foot in Maison de Jardin.” She shrugged, shaking her head. “I hate to see it end, but thanks to Trinity, we at least have a contingency plan.”
That wasn’t something Trinity had mentioned to him. “What do you mean?”
Madison didn’t seem put off by the question. “I’m not surprised she hasn’t said anything. Trinity tends to keep to herself, especially when it’s something that might make her look good.”
With a glance over her shoulder to make sure her boss wasn’t around, she said, “As soon as Mr. Hyatt passed, we had a meeting. She promoted me and said she was essentially stepping down as director. But what that really meant was that she still does just as much work, only she doesn’t get paid for it.”
“What do you mean?”
“The salary she would have been paid is now used to buy clothes and stockpile food for the families currently living here. She’s setting up educational trusts for the women and children we help, even some who have moved out.” Madison squeezed her eyes shut, then blinked away the moisture that had filled them. “If the Hyatts win their lawsuit, she wants everyone set before any sale happens.”
Rhett stared over the young woman’s head at the black iron scrollwork around the door. His blood pounded in his temples. The evidence was right in front of him. Who did he want to believe?
“That’s incredible,” he said, speaking more to himself than Madison.
Her smile was big and broad this time. “No, that’s Trinity.”
Eight
“Madison says you’re still paying for some of the women’s education even though they’ve moved on from the house.”
Trinity glanced up from the salad she’d been picking at, realizing that she hadn’t been tracking the conversation. Going to Maison de Jardin was just as upsetting these days as it was inspiring, with all the worry about the future and the burden of keeping everyone safe placed squarely on her shoulders. It was all exhausting. Far too much for her to enjoy lunch at her favorite French Quarter café, located in one of the historic hotels. But feeding Rhett seemed like the proper thing to do.
“I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t get the chance to finish talking to you about what we try to do. But yes, some of them get scholarships to continue their education even after their time with us. It just depends on their needs and our ability to meet them.”
“How do you know you aren’t being taken advantage of?”
She paused to stare at him, her fork halfway to her lips, but he didn’t back down. “You know it happens with a lot of charities,” he said.
She did. “Yes, and I’m not trying to say it hasn’t happened to us. But I’m not naive, nor that trusting. Michael did have some safeguards in place. For instance, all payments go directly to the school and GPA criteria must be met, whether it’s a trade school or four-year degree. Stuff like that.” She chewed the bite of salad, then wiped her mouth. “Look, I’m not
saying the charity is perfect. But it does so much good. I’d hate for it to end because of greed.”
The thought of that beautiful building being handed over to two people who couldn’t care less about it lingered in her mind like a bad penny. Trinity had always known Maison de Jardin was worth a lot of money, given the fact that it was in a prime location on the outskirts of New Orleans’ Garden District. But it had been her home, and continued to be the home of so many women and children who desperately needed it.
“You don’t think they would offer to simply move the charity somewhere else?”
“Oh, I’m sure they would, because that would make them look like they’re doing the right thing.” She threw down her napkin with more force than necessary. “How long would that last once the cameras were turned off? Besides, would they offer the same level of help we do now?” She shook her head. “Even if they didn’t mine the coffers immediately, I’m convinced Patricia and Richard would slowly steal away every educational fund, clothes fund and food fund until there was nothing left...then probably blame the missing money on mismanagement.”
He took a healthy swallow of his Sazerac with cognac, a drink this hotel was famous for. Then he stared down into the elegantly cut crystal glass for a moment before he said, “Well, you’re definitely convinced that nothing good will come of this court case. Otherwise you wouldn’t have given up your salary like you did.”
Startled, Trinity simply stared at him for a moment. Then the truth dawned on her. “I guess Madison told you?”
His expression said you got me, but he didn’t look the least bit repentant to have been discussing something so personal behind her back. “She did. I’m sure she told me a lot of things you would rather keep under wraps.” He leaned forward, meeting her gaze with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. “This isn’t a safe course of action, you know.”
“I will not let those women be left out in the cold.” Trinity tightened her grip on her fork, only realizing she was doing it when the cool handle bit into her fingers. “Besides, I’m not giving up yet. All this worry might be for nothing. I’ll be well taken care of once the courts decide in my favor.”
But she wasn’t fool enough to think winning against the Hyatts would be easy. They were more than willing to play dirty. To be honest, she had to wonder if that blogger was working for them. Still, she believed she wasn’t fighting a losing battle.
She had to believe in Michael’s plan.
“We’ve built a family,” she insisted, even knowing she sounded more emotional than a businessman probably cared to hear. “These women continue to reach out to each other, celebrate every move-out day together, notify us of job openings and childcare options. They donate food and clothes their kids have grown out of.”
She paused as the waitress came to deliver the check, struggling to get her emotions under control. More than anything, she hated to appear weak. As a kid, it had almost gotten her killed. Now, her strength could mean the difference between Maison de Jardin remaining a home or becoming a commodity. “I refuse to give up on that.”
Even if it meant giving up on her part of it. All her life, she’d only wanted to serve the women in need she saw around her. Just like she and her mother had so desperately needed someone when Michael found them at the hospital. But if having Maison de Jardin survive meant she had to move on to the role of director of Hyatt Heights, Inc., then that was what she would do.
Rhett remained quiet as they left the restaurant and slowly walked down the sidewalk. This little café was one of her favorites, tucked away on the side of a hotel in the French Quarter where she could walk around and enjoy the historic buildings, black iron railings and flickering street lamps. Here she could simply think as she strolled. They continued along the street for a while, as she texted Roberto where to meet them. She breathed in the cooler air flowing between the buildings. New Orleans summer heat was rarely kind or forgiving.
“I think what you’re doing is incredibly risky,” Rhett said. His serious tone disappointed her. Sometimes it was exhausting when people didn’t understand you.
She paused, surprised by the rebuke even though she knew many would share his opinion. What she was doing was risky. But these women were worth it.
Despite his words, his hands were gentle as he turned her to face him, lifting her chin to get her to look up at him. “If you lose your inheritance, what would happen to you? That salary could be all you have to fall back on.”
She opened her mouth to defend herself, though she wasn’t sure she had the words. He laid a finger over her lips. “But I also think what you’re doing is very, very brave.”
“I’ve been without before,” she whispered around the tightness in her throat.
“Which just means you know more than others what you’re sacrificing.” His gray gaze bored into hers, making her want to shift, make any movement that would relieve the tension building inside her. No man had ever looked at her like he did right this moment, with a mixture of admiration and heat that caught her off guard.
She couldn’t pull away when he wrapped his palms around her jaw, cupping her face as if it were utterly fragile and utterly precious. Then his mouth covered hers in a firm kiss.
What started out as admiration quickly transformed into something deeper, something mutual. A restrained version of the night before.
Something Trinity wasn’t sure she could resist for long.
* * *
Rhett ignored the buzz of his phone in his pocket as he greeted members of Hyatt Heights’s board and upper management from the companies the next day. This Saturday crawfish boil at one of the executives’ mansions seemed to be the Southern version of putting him on display, replacing the press conference he’d refused to attend.
In true New Orleans fashion, he could hear live jazz playing through the open French doors on the far side of the great hall. The spicy scent of the food being served under the large tents on the back lawn also drifted in, reminding Rhett of his empty stomach. Crawfish boil wasn’t his favorite dish, but hopefully he’d get a big bowl of gumbo at some point. He’d become addicted to that and po’boys since he’d come to NOLA.
Hyatt Heights would have hired the best chef in the city. They spared no expense, especially when they were trying to convince their employees that everything was perfectly fine.
Somehow, he had a feeling this crowd was gonna have him too busy shaking hands to truly enjoy the chef’s work.
Bill had told him he and Larry wanted a casual environment for him to win over the board members and executives. Any conversations with the upper management would hopefully filter down to employees and set people at ease—or as much at ease as they could be, knowing the ownership of the corporation might be in dispute for a while. They also hoped that these reassurances filtered out to the public from today’s event.
After touching base with a couple groups of attendees, Rhett stepped off to the side to check his phone. The entire time he swept his gaze over the room, looking for Trinity. They’d been separated quickly after they’d come in. The longer they were apart, the more Rhett felt anxiety creeping over him.
Then he saw his waiting text message. You were right. Hyatts deep in debt. Details sent via secure email.
Good to know. Chris had done what Rhett asked, even if he had disagreed with what he perceived as Rhett’s motive behind it. Frankly, Rhett’s train of thought was beginning to worry him a bit, too. For the first time since he’d started in this profession, the very person he’d come to investigate might just be the innocent in the situation.
Though his brain fought the idea, his body seemed to be fully on board, which was troublesome in and of itself.
When he looked up from his phone, he saw the Hyatts bearing down on him. A deep breath helped him brace for what he knew he had to do.
“Let’s find a place to talk,” Richard said as soon as he w
as within speaking distance.
“Are you sure?” Rhett asked with a polite smile for anyone who cared to look their way.
Richard didn’t need to answer. His wife was busy answering for him. “Since we’re the ones in charge, I don’t think it’s your place to ask questions.”
Rhett simply stared her down. She might think she was in charge, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve she might not be aware of. His quick glance for Trinity came up empty once more.
Richard led them to a nearby office and closed the door after they all filed inside.
“Since you don’t seem willing to give us a report otherwise, I think you should do it in person,” Patricia said, her tone indicating this was her due.
Amateurs. “You and Larry were told you probably wouldn’t get an update because of the sensitive and up close nature of this investigation. Doing it this way, in person, actually increases the risk of exposure.”
Patricia threw her husband a look. “I don’t think we’re getting our money’s worth.”
He wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass. “Since you aren’t paying my salary, I think you are.”
Both looked surprised.
“Didn’t think I would realize that, huh?” Rhett was ready to play hardball. “Other than my initial fee, Hyatt Heights is paying my salary as a business consultant. Isn’t that convenient?”
“You signed a binding contract,” Richard insisted.
“That I did,” Rhett conceded. “But that contract was separate from the one I signed for consulting. I’ve waived portions of your fee out of generosity. Would you care to pay your portion?”
Both sputtered at the implications.
“Now, I am continuing my investigations, I assure you. Because I want Michael’s inheritance to go to the rightful person.”
“Well, that person is not the woman who married him for his money just a week before he died. Hell, she probably had a hand in killing him.”