by Violet Paige
I didn’t believe him. People were curious. They always had questions, and more questions on top of those.
“All right. What is the meeting about? What do we need to discuss?” I was concerned about this part.
“It’s only an introduction. A family meeting. Have a drink. Tell him you love New Orleans. We’re happy here and glad to be out of Philadelphia. Make my apologies for not being able to make it. That’s all. Nothing more. Twenty minutes. And come straight here when it’s over.”
I nodded. “Okay. I think I can do that. What’s his name?” I asked.
My father sighed. “Raphael Corban.”
My stomach rose high into my chest. “Corban?”
“Yes. This meeting is important. Did you meet him at his daughter’s engagement party?” His hand slid off the bed. I lifted it and placed it next to his waist. He was too weak to talk much longer.
“Not exactly, but I did see him.” I thought about how to twist the truth.
But he started to drift in and out of sleep. I was glad the coughing had stopped.
“What time?” I whispered.
“Kimble has the details.”
I stood from the chair and returned it next to the wall. I backed away from the bed, watching my father sleep. I didn’t know how much time I had before my meeting with the king of New Orleans. The certainty I had that I could take the appointment evaporated when I realized it was Knight’s father I would have drinks with, not a random boss in town.
I stepped out of the bedroom. Kimble was in the hallway.
“Do you have the meeting details for today?” I asked.
He looked at his watch. “I’ll have the car ready to leave in an hour,” he reported.
I took a deep inhale. “I’ll get ready.”
6
Knight
First rule of business: arrive five minutes early. My father had burned the lesson into my skull. Over the years, I realized he wasn’t wrong about a few of his business principles. I found this particular one gave me an advantage. An automatic way to make the footing unsteady for my competitor.
I didn’t know if it was possible to rattle Lucien Martin during this meeting. I also didn’t have a clue what he already knew about me. What he had heard about my night out with his daughter. Did he know his bodyguard had wrenched her away from me at gunpoint? It was the reason I had stuck with last names when setting the meeting. There was a good chance he assumed he was going to have drinks with my father.
I didn’t believe in chance. I didn’t think for a second he hadn’t blown into town without knowing who his biggest competitor would be—my father. It wasn’t a coincidence they were interested in the same hotels, more specifically the boutique hotel.
I straightened the cuff on my sleeve. I didn’t like the way it was pressed. I had to get Lucien to back off before my father used the full force of his business to shut him down. Under any circumstance I didn’t give a shit who my father decided to run into the ground. But this time I did. I wasn’t interested in Kennedy being caught in the crosshairs of our fathers’ business war.
I checked my watch. One minute.
I ordered a gin on the rocks and waited for Lucien. I dug in my pocket for a cigarette but then remembered the way Kennedy’s nose turned up when she saw the pack. I opted to leave them where they were.
The bar I choose was old-school New Orleans. Heavy wood walls. Brass fixtures. A direct nod to the established families in the area. There was a side door that wafted with cigar smoke every time someone opened it.
The server delivered the gin drink on a tray and didn’t say a word when he noticed the seat next to me was still vacant. Maybe business was done differently in Philadelphia. Lucien was nearly five minutes late. I shook the ice in the glass when the door opened.
The sunlight was a startling contrast to the inside of the bar. My chest tightened when I saw Kimble enter first. I assumed he was Lucien’s top security aide. His head swiveled left then right. He nodded when he spotted me in the center of the dining room. He held the door open.
And then she walked in.
I rose to my feet, not taking my eyes off her.
She looked just as shocked as I was. She faltered in her high heels. My arm extended quickly to catch her. My fingertips grazed the smooth skin beneath her forearm. I lingered too long. Kimble cleared his throat. Shit. He needed to back off and let us fucking breathe.
She gave me a nervous smile. “I thought I was meeting with your father.”
“I thought I was meeting your father,” I answered. “Why don’t you sit?” I offered her a seat.
Kennedy fidgeted with the cocktail napkin on the table.
“You need a drink,” I stated. I ordered the waiter to the table. “You like champagne.”
She smiled. “I don’t think that’s standard for a business meeting.”
“There is nothing standard about this.”
“I guess not.”
“We both need a glass.”
I ordered a bottle to be brought over quickly. I sensed her anxiety. It wasn’t how I planned to see her again. Not like this. Not in place of our fathers. I’d never felt more like a pawn, even though I was the who volunteered to play the game.
I waited until the champagne had been poured. Kimble stood near the entrance to the bar. I felt his eyes penetrating the space between Kennedy and me.
“How have you been?” I asked.
“Since the weekend?” Her eyes flickered.
I ignored her sarcasm. “Yes. After our evening ended abruptly. I’m sorry about that.”
She returned the flute to the table. “It wasn’t your fault. Since that night there have been no more parties and I haven’t had a single oyster.”
I chuckled. “That’s terrible news.”
“I did have a good time with you, Knight. But I don’t see it happening again.” Her cheeks turned a soft crimson. It was hard to keep my distance. I wanted to reach out and touch her hair. Stroke the side of her face. But I hadn’t forgotten Kimble carried a gun, and his attention was directed to me.
“Yet, here we are.” I grinned. “Together. Same table. Same bottle of champagne.” I loved watching her lips curl into a smile. “What did happen when you got home?” I wanted to know what kind of consequences Lucien Martin doled out. It was a good sign that she was out in public.
She shook her head. “Actually, nothing. Kimble promised not to say anything about it. My father has no idea about our after party.”
My head jerked toward the bodyguard. I was surprised. “What’s Kimble’s deal? Why would he keep that to himself?”
Kennedy eyed me. “He wanted to give me a pass.”
I wasn’t sure if that was true. “Interesting.”
“My father said this was an important meeting. What did you want to discuss?” I noticed she continued to check the time on her phone.
“I think maybe I should wait and talk to him.”
Her forehead crinkled. “Why? I’m here representing the business.”
“I didn’t think you had any interest in the family business.” I shrugged.
“You don’t think I’m capable?” she posed.
“No. I’d never say that.” Whatever it was, it created a gleam in her eyes. A spark in a sea of emerald green.
“But all right. What does Lucien Martin plan to do with the Vieux Carre hotel?”
It was quick, but a noticeable squirm. She tugged on the edge of the red dress. “What do you want to know?”
“Why that hotel? What does he want to do with it?” The original blueprints for the hotel had been lost in a fire once prohibition ended. The secret of the underground passageway had been kept within a small circle of families. I wanted to know if Lucien had been tipped off.
Her lips twitched. “Why is that any of your concern?”
I leaned toward her. It was hard to be this close and not reach for her. I was impressed my restraint had lasted this long. The more minutes passed, the harder i
t was to not think of the way her lips tasted.
“What about the project by the docks?” I asked.
The corners of her mouth wiggled. “What do you want to know?”
“All of it.” I waggled my eyebrows. “What does Lucien have planned for that area?”
Kennedy began to shred the corners of the cocktail napkin. She cleared her throat. “My father didn’t send me to tell you everything about his plans. You must know that. I can’t just lay it out there.”
“But will you?” I asked. “What could I say to make you come around?”
She laughed, placing the empty champagne flute a few inches from her clutch. “To unlock all the secrets?”
“How about one or two?” I taunted.
She glanced at her phone. “This was nice. Thank you for the champagne, but I need to go.”
I stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?”
“You just got here. We’ve had one drink. There’s a good bottle of champagne to finish. Stay awhile. Or better, let’s get dinner.”
“Together?” Her voice squeaked.
“I think we can both agree we’re not getting anywhere with this business meeting. Why not have dinner?”
Her eyes darted across the room to Kimble. “Because we both know what happened last time.”
“Bring him with us.” I nodded at the bodyguard.
“Really?”
“Yes. If he’s going to be your security detail, then he goes where you go. I get it.”
I saw her process the information. “And what do I tell my father about our meeting?” she asked.
“You could send him a message for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell him to back off the boutique hotel deal. It’s not going to work.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would I tell him that? He wants the hotel.”
“But he can’t have it.” I tried to keep my voice clear and firm.
“What makes you think that?” she argued.
“He’s new to New Orleans. I understand he doesn’t know how intricate the hierarchy is. That will come with time. But my father wants that space. Lucien needs to let it go. He should step aside.”
A bubble of determination surfaced on her face. “You’re saying your father wants it, so he gets it.”
I finished off the last sip in my glass. “Yes. That’s usually how it works.” My eyes settled on hers. I could tell she was offended. “Look.” I brushed my thumb over her knuckles before she tried to pull away from me. “Our fathers’ business, isn’t us. What they do isn’t you and me. Our meeting is over. I just want to take you to dinner, Kennedy.”
She exhaled. “You don’t care that we’re on opposite sides of this thing?”
“No. I don’t give a shit, honestly. I’d like to take you out. That’s all I care about right now.”
Her bottom lip dragged under her teeth. “Where do you want to go?”
I paid the tab for the drinks. “You’ll see. Let’s get out of here.”
7
Kennedy
I had chosen a red dress for the meeting. One that accentuated my waist and drifted up and down my leg at mid-thigh. I wanted Mr. Corban to know I was a force of nature. He needed to take me seriously. Red was a power statement. I wanted the dress to set a different tone than my gown from Seraphina’s engagement party. I wasn’t a party guest today. I was an extension of my father’s arm. I was a part of the Martin dynasty.
I had to let the weight of that sink in.
I fidgeted in the backseat of the car while Kimble drove to the bar. I had looked in on my father before I left the house. He had already fallen asleep. I gave the house manager instructions to call me if he seemed any worse while I was gone.
Worrying about my father didn’t come naturally. He made it difficult to care, much less show affection or concern about his well-being. It wasn’t easy being his daughter. We didn’t hug. He never tucked me in as a child. There were no sentimental father daughter moments. But something shifted between us today. His eyes saw something in me they’d never seen before.
It was a lie to try to pretend this meeting didn’t matter to me. I was nervous walking into the bar. Kimble’s strong presence wasn’t enough to calm me. I had to prove myself. I had to represent our family name.
The game changed in a single instant. The rehearsed pleasantries were useless as soon as I spotted Knight Corban. My stomach flipped and I sighed quietly.
Did Knight have any idea how excited and anxious I was when I saw him sitting at the table instead of his father? I was relieved I didn’t have to match wits with the king of New Orleans, but instead I was faced with the danger of spending time with Knight. Not only drinks, but dinner.
When I told Kimble to follow us in the SUV, I knew he wasn’t happy about the decision. However, we were in town on my father’s orders. I wasn’t about to tell him the dinner had switched to pleasure, not business.
Knight whipped his sports car in and out of tiny side streets and alleys.
“Are you trying to shake my security again?” I asked.
“No.” His eyes darted to the rearview mirror. “Should I?”
I smiled. Sitting next to him again, I remembered the thrill I experienced with him. There was something wild and untamed inside this man.
“I don’t think it would be a smart way to start our business relationship.”
He chuckled. “So that’s what this is? Business?” I felt his eyes drift in my direction. “I thought we left that back at the bar.”
“I don’t know what it is,” I answered honestly. It was quickly growing complicated.
“Maybe we should leave business out of it. It would simplify things.”
“Maybe it would.”
Once again, he drove me to a place I’d never seen or heard of. We were in the back alleys of the city. Before he had a chance to round the front of the car, Kimble was already at my door, scanning the street and keeping me in place.
“Relax,” Knight instructed. “I know this place.”
“Does this place know who she is?” Kimble eyed him. “I don’t know that it’s safe here. It’s my job to keep her safe. I’m the one who protects her.”
“As long as she’s with me, you don’t need to worry so much.”
I pushed between the two of them. The testosterone battle was frustrating. “Just stop. I’m hungry.” I stormed into the restaurant. Knight followed me.
“Why don’t you send him home?” he suggested once we were seated. “He’s a little obsessive about his job.”
“I don’t know that he’ll listen.” I held the menu under the candlelight to read it. “What about you? Don’t you travel with bodyguards?”
“Yes.”
“But where are they?” I studied the guests in the dimly lit dining room.
“I sent them home after drinks.”
“I never saw anyone at the bar,” I argued. “Where were they? Who was it?”
He smiled. “That’s how it should be. My team knows how to fade into the background. They’re virtually ghosts. Kimble sticks out. Everyone knows he’s watching you.”
I shifted in my chair. “He’s following orders.” I didn’t know why I chose to defend him.
“But when does he start doing what you want him to do?”
“I’m working on it.” I smiled wryly. I didn’t like that my bodyguard was planted near the restaurant bar, watching everyone who walked in and out of the door. I didn’t like that he was memorizing the moments of my dinner. I didn’t like that he was witnessing how I interacted with Knight. It felt like a violation, not an act of protection.
A solo saxophone took a stage in the corner of the restaurant. I hadn’t even realized it was there until the spotlight highlighted the musician. My breath caught in the back of my throat with the first note.
Knight reached underneath the table and stroked the top of my thigh with his thumb. I leaned toward him.
; “I don’t think I can do this,” I whispered. I was suddenly filled with nerves.
“Why not? I think it’s going well.”
I lowered my eyes. “It’s bigger than us, isn’t it?”
I was afraid to look at him again. Afraid to feel my soul bounce around my body, as if he had the other end of the string and tugged it when it suited him. It shouldn’t be like this. Who gave up control this quickly?
“That depends.”
“On?” I searched his eyes for something definitive. I didn’t believe that there was anything but trouble ahead for us. The hotel was an obvious impasse. I was on a short leash, and as soon as my father found a family to partner with, I’d be married.
His fingertips trailed the side of my cheek. I pressed into his open palm.
“How much control we allow our fathers to have,” he replied softly.
The saxophone hit a high note. I felt the shudder carry down my spine and to my ankles. “We aren’t on equal ground. You have a say in your future. I’m no different than Seraphina. You realize that, don’t you? I don’t get to choose.”
There was a hint of pain in his eyes. “What if we could change that?”
I held my breath, waiting for him to answer my prayers. I’d never accepted that I didn’t get to choose my fate. I’d fought it since the day I discovered I was an asset to my father. A bartering tool. A dowry that he would pawn to cash in on a new business or set up a partnership.
I was fifteen when we attended my cousin Gigi’s wedding. I was a bridesmaid. I was too old to be a flower girl. Too young to be responsible for any bride duties. It was an awkward age to be in the wedding party.
The girls took turns fluffing Gigi’s dress in the foyer of the cathedral. It was a huge Catholic Philadelphia wedding. For a second, I held her bouquet. The flower girls had been ushered out. The photographer took pictures. Her father strolled toward her. I tried to hand the bouquet back, but Gigi was pleading with my uncle. She didn’t want to marry Danny. He was nice enough, but she hated his big nose. He wasn’t funny. He didn’t like dogs. I tried to step away, but I was stuck with the bouquet. My uncle’s cheeks turned red and he raised his hand. I thought for a second he was going to slap Gigi, but he lowered it when she extended her hands for the flowers. It was as if he suddenly realized I was there.
