Tell Me Something Good (26 page)

“Maybe.”

“What are you talking about?” Julie
snapped.

Carlton smiled. “Office gossip says Noel
spent a lot of time in that office with her when she was working
here.” “Like I said, he’ll get tired of her soon.”

“And you’ll be right there when he does.”

“Noel will come back to his roots,” Julie
replied.

“Great. You and Noel will stroll hand in hand
one day. Anything else?” Carlton went back to reading the contents
of a file on his desk.

“This investigation of Lyrissa Rideau skims
the surface.” Julie tapped the bound report on her knee as she
spoke.

“Maybe that’s all there is. She’s just
another pretty face trying to catch a rich husband.”

“A pretty face with a master’s degree in art
history, working on her Ph.D.” Julie pursed her lips.

Carlton wore a half-smile. “Not that it
bothers you.”

“I have my MBA,” Julie snapped.

“But Noel isn’t gazing at you over a glass of
wine.” “Don’t be so smug, Carlton,” Julie shot back.

“Face it, babe. Noel is not going to buy you
that three- carat engagement ring you want so badly. He’s screwing
both of us the way I see it”

Julie threw the report down onto his desk.
“What are we going to do about it, then?”

“We?” Carlton let out a short laugh. “I plan
to run this company one day.”

“From a jail cell?”

Carlton blinked as though she’d slapped him.
“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Noel is arranging an audit,” she
replied.

“Yes, a management consulting team will look
into the way we run the business.”

“And a financial audit” Julie nodded as his
eyes widened.

“B-But the audit isn’t due for seven months.
He can’t do that.”

“He’s the boss. You should have been paying
attention” Julie added with a nasty smile.

“Damn it” Carlton rubbed his face hard.

“Look, we both want payback. I can help save
your butt. Let’s help each other.” Julie sat forward.

Carlton took his hand down and cleared his
throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t waste time. I have a pretty good idea
what you’ve been up to, but I’ll need details.” Julie’s hazel eyes
narrowed to slits. “Trust me or you’ll go down.”

“Why should I? You might end up with
everything and leave me out in the cold.” Carlton stared back at
her.

“The board would never let me nm this
company, you know that. I’ll help you get control, and you’ll make
me VP of operations,” Julie said with confidence.

“And you’ll get back at Noel. It’s a thin
line between love and hate, huh?”

She stood and looked down at him. “You want
my help or not?”

“I don’t have much choice. But don’t fool
yourself that I trust you,” he said.

Julie’s thin lips curled. “The feeling is
mutual.”

Lyrissa watched Noel out of the corner of her
eye. He’d handled himself well. Of course he’d been schooled in the
social graces like any well-bred Creole heir. Still, his reaction
to her artsy friends had been admirably restrained. Especially
considering the outfit her friend Izzy was wearing that afternoon.
Isabel Canton breezed around the Beaux Arts Gallery in a diaphanous
outfit of lime green, purple, pink, and royal blue. She wore hot
pink tights beneath the long, flowing tunic. Izzy was the owner of
the gallery. Noel had been pleased when Lyrissa had invited him to
the opening of her latest exhibit.

“Lyrissa, babe!” Izzy threw out her arms and
came at them like a runaway Mardi Gras float. “I’m thrilled you
could come. And even more thrilled at what you brought,” she said,
eyeing Noel.

“Save me,” Noel mumbled.

Lyrissa stifled a giggle. “Noel St. Denis,
this is our hostess and longtime patroness of the arts Isabel
Canton.”

“Not that long a time. She makes me sound so
old,” Izzy purred at him.

Noel put an arm around Lyrissa’s waist. “Nice
to meet you.”

Izzy put a hand on his free arm and squeezed
it. “You run Tremé Corporation. Solid muscles, for a man who sits
at a desk most of the day.”

Noel wore a gracious smile. “Thank you. Your
show seems to be going over well.” He skillfully extricated his arm
from her grasp by putting Lyrissa between them.

If she was put out, Izzy didn’t show it.
Instead she continued to leer at him. “Yes, everything looks so
good.” “Behave, Izzy. He’s talking about the art,” Lyrissa said
firmly. She leaned against Noel.

“How selfish, Lyrissa.” Izzy pouted at her,
and then her face cleared into a smile. “But I can’t really blame
you.”

“Izzy, you’re too much.” Lyrissa laughed.

“Well, sugar, I’d better circulate. Helps the
sales if I give the minglers lots of attention. Goodbye, Noel.” She
made a kissing noise at him and left

“Whew! That was close.” Noel shook his head
as he watched her leave.

“Oh, please. With those strong arms I’m sure
you could have gotten away from her.” Lyrissa looked at Izzy. “Of
course, she does know Tae Kwon Do.”

“Very funny. Just don’t ever leave me alone
with her.” Noel put his arm through hers as they walked around
looking at paintings. “But she did give me an idea.”

“Leave me out of that scene, honey.” Lyrissa
giggled at the scowl that brought.

“I meant about our collection. We could have
a show like this.” Noel nodded around the room.

“A show?”

“Yes. We have an old house nearby that’s just
been renovated. I’d like to show it to you. My property manager,
Keisha, could be here in ten minutes.”

Lyrissa’s throat went dry. “I thought you
hadn’t decided to sell any of the art in your collection.”

“I didn’t say we’d sell anything, but we
could at least generate interest.” Noel took out his cell phone and
hit a button. “We can go have coffee while we wait for Keisha.” “I
think you’re trying to run away from Izzy,” Lyrissa joked with a
grin. Still she tried to think of a way to head off this new
idea.

“I think you’re right,” he said. “Hello, Kee.
Listen...” They were walking down Magazine and turning a corner
onto Antoine Street ten minutes later. They sat outside a small
coffee shop sipping cafe au lait and waited for his property
manager. The weather was beautiful as they watched the Thursday
afternoon traffic. Noel told funny stories about his family until
Lyrissa was nearly in tears.

Lyrissa shook her head. “You’re making this
stuff up.” “You’ve met a few of them, right?”

“Oh, Lord, yes!”

“Then you know I don’t have to make up wild
stories.” He grinned at her. “You see we’re not all that bad.”

“Solve a mystery for me.” Lyrissa grew
serious.

“I’ll try.” Noel took a sip from the dark
brown mug. “How can your family still think skin color matters? I
mean, we’ve gone through decades of civil rights and the whole
Black is Beautiful movement.” Lyrissa expected him to become
defensive. Instead, he looked thoughtful for a time.

“It’s not simple to explain. The whole
attitude about skin color got mixed up with snobbery about heritage
and class. Skin color became a symbol of being descended from
wealthy French or Spanish ruling class families.”

“Maybe so, but it’s still destructive. Racism
mixed with classism is just another way we’re divided.”

“I agree. But it’s not as bad as it used to
be,” Noel replied.

“Bad enough,” she retorted.

“But better,” he insisted. “And don’t think
I’m naive.” Lyrissa smiled at him. “I can’t imagine you being naive
about anything.”

“Now you solve a mystery for me,” he said.
“What do women want?”

Her smile widened. “Sorry, I’m sworn to
secrecy on that one.”

“Come on, I answered your question. I’m
serious.” Noel playfully nudged her arm.

She shook her head. “There are as many
answers to your question as there are women on this earth.”

“Okay, I’ll make it easier. What do you
want?”

“I want to be a curator at a small museum.
Then one day I’ll open my own gallery.”

“What about your personal life? Marriage,
kids, a Lexus SUV?” Noel’s easy smile didn’t conceal his keen
interest in her answer.

“I’m concentrating on the professional part
right now. I can’t see past getting this dissertation finished.
Grad school is a killer.” She neatly sidestepped his question.

“But you want security and a good lifestyle,
or else you wouldn’t be so ambitious.”

“Don’t we all?” Lyrissa studied his
expression.

“Some women will do anything to get it,
though. Men are like prizes, objects to be used.” Noel’s brow
furrowed.

“Sounds like you’re testifying based on
personal experience.”

“I’ve had my close calls,” he said quietly.
“But I don’t want a model wife who looks good in the family
portrait. I want something real.”

“I see.” Lyrissa looked away from his intense
gaze. “Not like your parents, I suppose. Sorry—I shouldn’t have
said that.”

“No, it’s okay. They’re the poster couple for
how not to run a marriage.” Noel sighed.

“Bet that was no fun for you, either.”

“I learned to duck when the dishes started
flying,” he quipped. “It took me a long time to figure out
marriages could be happy.”

“So you know loving marriage isn’t an
oxymoron.” Lyrissa laughed.

“Yeah, I’m learning something new all the
time.”

He put an arm around her chair. His smile
softened into a lovely invitation. Lyrissa accepted it and leaned
close until their lips touched. She closed her eyes. His light kiss
felt like honey flowing into her body. When they broke apart, both
were breathing heavily.

“Now what?” she murmured.

A young woman the color of cinnamon
approached before he could answer. “Sorry, it took me a while to
get here. Busy day and it’s not over yet! Hi.” She smiled at
Lyrissa.

Lyrissa smiled back. “Hi.”

“Keisha Collins, this is Lyrissa Rideau. Sit
down and take a deep breath. I’ll get you a latte.” Noel patted her
arm.

“I wish, boss. I’ve got an appointment to
meet a client in twenty minutes. He’s interested in the Basin
Street building. Here you go; the keys and the code card. I wrote
down the number.” Keisha handed him an envelope.

“Thanks, Kee.” He took it from her.

“No prob. Gotta get moving. Nice meeting you,
Lyrissa.” She waved and strode to a black Acura Legend parked
across the street.

“Let’s go take a look,” Noel said.

They walked back to Magazine Street. The day
was still bright, even though it was early evening. Several joggers
sped past them. Lyrissa admired several restored homes as they
strolled the three blocks. Noel stopped in front of a three-story
house painted pale yellow with white trim. A white wooden fence
surrounded it and stone steps led up to a wide porch.

“Here we are. Built in 1843, it was the home
of Thomas Chaisson. Tommy, as he was affectionately known by his
friends, made his fortune in real estate.”

“Very interesting. A relative?” Lyrissa
added.

“His sister married into the family. Tommy
never married.” Noel led her up the steps and unlocked the door. A
soft beeping sounded until he slid the code card in and punched in
the number.

Lyrissa walked ahead of him as he locked the
door be-hind them. She headed into what must have been the for-mal
parlor. It faced the street. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave an
excellent view of the neighborhood.

Noel joined her. “It still needs some
work.”

She turned in a circle. The fireplace had a
mantel made of ivory Italian marble. “The atmosphere is a perfect
back-drop for the collection, even the more modem pieces.”

“Let’s take a look upstairs.” He took her
hand and led the way.

“This is beautiful wood. What is it?” Lyrissa
ran her fingers along the smooth surface.

“Rosewood. We had to strip several layers of
varnish from it. This wallpaper is original, too.” He pointed to
the textured creamy walls.

They reached the second floor. A large center
room had a lovely medallion set in the ceiling. Lyrissa studied the
detailed carving with great interest. A few pieces of period
furniture were scattered around. “This must have been a drawing
room.”

“This was the master bedroom,” Noel said
close to her ear.

She could feel his breath on her cheek. He
pulled her into his arms. His hands trailed down her sides to her
hips, and then he kissed her neck.

Lyrissa sighed when he pressed against her.
He cupped a breast with one hand and ran the other up her skirt.
She should have protested, but instead she sighed again. He guided
her to an antique lounge chair.

“You feel so good, Lyrissa,” he
whispered.

She sank onto the chair with him. In seconds
she’d kicked off her leather pumps and pantyhose. Noel unzipped his
pants. He moaned when she reached inside the fly. Lyrissa kissed
his face as her fingers gently massaged him until he was rock hard.
His fingers rubbed her mound until she was senseless.

“We can’t. We don’t have a condom.”

Noel opened her blouse and the front hook of
her bra. “I have one,” he whispered and sucked her nipple hard.
“You came prepared?”

“Since the first kiss I’ve been
prepared.”

Lyrissa tried to feel incensed. Instead, she
only felt white hot with hunger. She arched against him as his
tongue circled her tender peak. He moaned deep in his throat. Music
played in the distance, soft chiming notes that soothed her. The
notes chimed again insistently and she froze.

“The doorbell!” she said. “Someone’s at the
front door.”

“They’ll go away,” he mumbled without taking
his mouth from her breast.

She let go of him and tried to sit up. “It
might be Keisha.”

Noel ignored the racket. “Somebody at the
wrong house.”

“Then why do they keep knocking? We’d better
see who it is.” Lyrissa pulled her skirt down.