Tell Me Something Good (16 page)

“I should throw a sack of ice in this
shower.”

What she did was let cold water stream over
her. She had to get herself together to face him. Lyrissa was still
in only her panties applying make-up when the doorbell chimed. Her
hand slipped at the sound. A line of plum brandy lipstick went
across her cheek.

Aunt Claire stuck her head in the door “Are
you... oh dear! Is that a new fad?”

“Very funny. I’m two seconds from being
totally pulled together.”

Lyrissa swabbed the lipstick off. She deftly
applied more face powder, slipped on her lacy red bra, and put on
her slacks. With one hand, she combed her hair back, and then shook
her head. The loose curls bounced around her face. Then she used a
brush to feather side bangs and added a finishing touch. Last, she
put on the blouse.

“Ta-da!” Lyrissa faced her and put on her
best diva smile.

“You look stunning. He won’t know what hit
him.” Aunt Claire giggled.

“All part of the plan, sweet Tante. All part
of the plan.” Lyrissa sashayed out of the bedroom and down the
stairs. She marshaled every ounce of attitude she could along the
way. No doubt she would need it tonight.

“Papa must be spinning in his grave. A St.
Denis in our living room.” Aunt Claire’s tone was more of
titillation than dismay. “This is going to be interesting.”

“You devil. I think you’re enjoying this,”
Lyrissa whispered.

“This reminds me of those old ‘Mission
Impossible’ episodes.”

“Oh, Aunt Claire.” Lyrissa could not help but
laugh.

Aunt Claire hummed the theme song from the
vintage television series. “Your mission, should you decide to
accept it...”

They both halted before entering the living
room to re-gain their composure. A deep voice spoke in a respectful
tone in answer to Mama Grace’s.

“I’ll go ahead of you. Make a dramatic
entrance,” Aunt Claire said low, then spoke louder as she went
through the door. “Here we are. So nice to meet you, Mr. St.
Denis.”

Lyrissa meant to stroll in behind her with a
blasé expression. Instead, she ran smack into Aunt Claire. “What
the—”

“My Lord!” Aunt Claire breathed barely above
a whisper.

Her aunt stood just across the threshold.
Aunt Claire’s eyes were wide and her mouth formed a small circle in
astonishment. Lyrissa stared at her, and then followed her gaze.
Noel stood next to Mama Grace. Rather, he towered over her. They
were discussing a framed antique map of New Orleans, circa 1801.
Yet the showpiece was not hanging on the wall. Noel was magnificent
in mocha colored slack: that hugged his hips and muscular thighs.
He wore a pullover cotton knit shirt that matched the pants
perfectly. His upper arms bulged from the short sleeves in brown
glory of smooth skin. The shirt was open at the neck. A dark brown
leather belt and shoes completed the picture. Lyrissa groaned to
herself. She seriously considered heading back upstairs for another
cold shower. At that moment he faced them. Mocha fabric stretched
across his fantasy-inspiring chest. Aunt Claire sighed. Lyrissa’s
knees sagged.

Mama Grace glared at them. “I assume you both
will come in eventually,” she said. Her jovial tone held an edge to
it.

“How rude of me to stare. I was just thinking
how much you look like your grandfather,” Aunt Claire trilled. She
recovered enough to smile at him graciously and walk in.

“I’m glad to meet you, too. Did you know my
grandfather?” Noel said.

“Only from a distance,” Mama Grace cut in
smoothly. “Naturally, he was well-known in the city.”

“Yes, yes,” Aunt Claire added as she bobbed
her head.

Lyrissa took a deep breath and let it out She
was ridiculously grateful for even such a brief respite. Then she
stepped from behind Aunt Claire to face him.

“Hi.” She braced herself for the impact of
his smile.

“Hi. You’re amazing.” Noel stared at her with
what seemed to be genuine wonder. He didn’t smile. Instead, fire
filled his brown eyes.

Aunt Claire bustled forward to break the
charged silence. “Ahem, would you two like a glass of wine, or
maybe amaretto, before you go?”

“Don’t be silly, Claire. I’m sure they’re
eager to get to work,” Mama Grace said.

“Humph, work, indeed,” Aunt Claire murmured.
She eyed Noel while he gazed at Lyrissa.

Mama Grace shot her a cutting glance, and
then cleared her throat “I’m glad your grandmother made a frill
recovery from her illness last year. I do so admire her. Such a
talented and gifted woman.”

“Thank you. She is that.” Noel smiled.

Aunt Claire coughed loudly. “Excuse me,
something in my throat.”

Mama Grace ignored her sister. “I read about
the St. Denis family art exhibit at the Amistad Center.”

“Yes, were looking forward to sharing our art
with the community. My grandmother is especially thrilled,” Noel
replied.

“Lyrissa tells me you’re in charge of it all.
So wonderful to see a young person interested in his family’s
heritage.” Aunt Claire beamed at him.

“Thank you. History wasn’t my favorite
subject. Until now.” Noel cast a glance at Lyrissa, then back to
Aunt Claire.

“How convenient.” Mama Grace wore a reserved
but polite smile.

Lyrissa held her breath. She expected her to
blow like a kettle filled with boiling water. “Noel is working very
hard to make sure the art is properly showcased.”

“I’m sure, given its worth to his family,”
Mama Grace said in a controlled voice.

“I want it preserved, and not just for us,
but for the future,” Noel said.

“Admirable.” Mama Grace put on a stiff
smile.

“Such a nice young man. Lyrissa tells me
you’re a hard-working businessman as well.” Aunt Claire took his
arm and led him off.

“Yes, ma’am.” Noel looked at Lyrissa, a
question in his dark eyes.

Lyrissa shrugged in reply. “I’ll be here,”
she called out with a slight smile.

“Let me show you some more of our prints in
the den.

Of course, they don’t compare to your
family’s art.” Aunt Claire babbled on rapidly as they walked.

“He has the same arrogant bearing as his
grandparents,” Mama Grace burst out, the moment they were gone.

“Aunt Claire seems charmed. She’s a pretty
good judge of character.” Lyrissa stared down the hall, though they
were gone.

“Oh please! She’ll believe almost anything a
handsome man says.” Mama Grace pursed her lips.

“He’s not exactly what we expected, though.”
Lyrissa crossed to a chair and sat down hard.

“Don’t be silly. He’s a St Denis. Scratch the
golden surface and you’ll see brass.” Mama Grace shed the last
vestige of cordiality, now that they were alone.

“I suppose,” Lyrissa said uncertainly.

“Don’t tell me you’ve inherited your great
aunt’s gullibility. Lord give me strength! They're high-class con
men, have been for generations. How do you think—”

“Yes, yes, I know. His ancestor scammed our
ancestor out of a masterpiece.”

Lyrissa squirmed on the upholstered seat. Her
grand-mother must have detected something in Lyrissa’s tone. Mama
Grace marched over and sat down on the settee across from Lyrissa.
She stared at Lyrissa’s outfit

“Interesting ensemble for a business dinner,”
she said.

“I’m not—”

“Remember his reputation.” Mama Grace poked
her knee with a forefinger.

Lyrissa sat straight. “I’m not naive.”

“Good.” Mama Grace was about to say more when
Aunt Claire’s twittering laugh moved closer.

“You know, I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
Aunt Claire patted his arm like they were old pals.

“I’m sure his intentions were purely to
document the times.” Noel winked at her, which brought more
laughter.

“Uncle Herbert did photograph Storyville
quite a bit.” Aunt Claire’s eyebrows arched. “Grace, I believe
we’re on the verge of uncovering a family scandal.”

Mama Grace assumed a mask of affability
again. “What is that, darlin’?”

“Noel pointed out something I don’t think
we’d considered. Uncle Herbert must have spent hours in Storyville.
What would a respected church deacon be doing in that notorious
hotbed of debauchery?” Aunt Claire’s green eyes twinkled.

“Interesting question.” Mama Grace looked at
her stonily.

“Ahem, time for us to leave,” Lyrissa said,
as she sprang to her feet.

“Right. I enjoyed my tour, Aunt Claire.” Noel
gave her hand a squeeze.

When Mama Grace rolled her eyes, Lyrissa
blocked their view of her by bending down. She kissed her cheek.
“Cut that out,” she whispered, and then added louder, “Good night,
Mama.”

“Good night, darlin’,” Mama Grace said with a
brittle smile. “I hope you come again, Mr. St. Denis.”

“Call me Noel.” He grasped her hand and held
it for a few moments. “I’m really glad we met.”

“So am I. Claire is right, you’re a fine
young man. But of course, what would we expect from the St. Denis
family?” Mama Grace clasped his hand with both of hers.

Now Lyrissa wanted to roll her eyes. They’d
need hip boots to wade through the bull in another second. “Like I
said, let’s get going. The band will start in less than fifteen
minutes.”

“Good night, ladies,” Noel called out He
seemed cheerfully unaware of any undercurrent

They went out and got into his car. Noel
turned on the radio to an FM jazz station. “Your grandmother and
great-aunt are wonderful ladies.”

“Real family treasures.”

“Aunt Claire is sweet as a praline.”

“Uh-huh.”

Lyrissa wondered if he liked her because she
seemed so credulous. Mama Grace’s suspicions rang in her ears. Had
one kiss scrambled her common sense? His mention of candy made her
think of the sweetness of his mouth on hers. She wrestled with the
sensation in an effort to beat it back. The sultry alto sax on the
radio didn’t help any. They were wrapped in its clear tones. The
soft leather seats encouraged her to relax. The expertly engineered
luxury car muffled street sounds.

“You’re into the music,” he said quietly, and
placed a hand over hers on the seat. “I’m like that, too. I love
getting lost in a melody.”

Lyrissa trembled at his touch. She moved her
hand to her lap. The loss of contact felt painful.

“Sorry, nothing so romantic. I was thinking
about work.” She felt his gaze, but didn’t look at him.

Noel’s sigh was barely audible. “Okay. We’re
going to talk shop, so don’t get all tense.”

“I’m not tense,” Lyrissa said too fast.

“You did agree to come.” His voice forced the
issue gently.

“To talk to you about the collection. I’ve
got final projects for school. I won’t see you much in the next few
weeks,” Lyrissa parried.

“You told Julie you had lots of free time to
spend at my office.” Noel’s lips twitched with mirth.

Lyrissa cleared her throat. “I said that to
irritate her.” Noel grinned widely. “Yeah, I kinda figured it
out.”

“It’s got nothing to do with you. I just
don’t like her,” Lyrissa added defensively

“Yeah,” Noel said, still grinning.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Lyrissa inched
closer to the passenger side window and away from him.

Noel drove down Royal Street and into a
parking lot. He cut the engine and placed an arm along the back of
the seat. “Come on. Let’s be friends.”

“Sorry,” she muttered. There it was again,
that word coming from her lips! Mama Grace was right. Noel St.
Denis was obviously a chip off the old block.

“Stop measuring me by stupid gossip. Let’s
just kick back and get into some fine music.”

Lyrissa breathed deeply. “We can agree on
that, at least.” She forced a weak smile. Her insides melted when
she looked into his eyes. There was a soft light in them.

“Besides, Julie’s no competition for you,” he
whispered and leaned toward her.

She watched him move in slow action. Lyrissa
could not have dodged him if she’d wanted to, and she had no will
to do so. Instead, she stared at his lips as though hypnotized. He
stopped so close to her face she could feel his breath on her
cheek. The tip of his nose brushed hers lightly. His cologne
floated around her like exotic spices from a far-off land.

“Are you thinking about the work now?” he
whispered to her again.

Lyrissa somehow managed to talk despite the
huge knot in her throat. “Not exactly,” was all she could
manage.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I can’t.” She closed her eyes.

“Why?”

She bit her bottom lip to stop another honest
and more explicit answer. Danger bells clanged in her head. No way
could she tell him that in her mind they were already naked and
wrapped around each other on a king-sized bed. Lyrissa was sure she
would shock even sophisticated Noel St. Denis. If she leaned over,
she’d give him an earful. Another warning bell sounded. Lyrissa’s
eyes flew open. Bells from St. Charles Cathedral announced the
hour.

“Uh, I don’t think we drove here to sit in
the parking lot,” she stammered and unlocked the car door.

“It’s sorta cozy in here, though. But I guess
you have a point.” Noel gave an exaggerated sigh and got out of the
car.

Lyrissa gulped deep breaths of the moist
night air to reclaim her equilibrium. She took advantage of every
moment available while he locked the car and turned on the alarm.
“I hope we haven’t missed too much of the show,” she said.

Noel held out his hand to her. “I doubt
it.”

She had no choice but to take it. Her heart
raced as she walked beside him. He held onto her hand in a firm
grip. Noel chatted casually about the history of jazz in New
Or-leans, and in Basin Street in particular. Lyrissa kept up her
end of the conversation, but just barely. Either he was an
excellent actor, or he truly didn’t know the effect he was having.
As though it mattered. In fact he was in the driver’s seat once
more.