“You could get a substitute,” Carrie said. “What would you be gone for, a week at most? Jenna could probably fill in. She took the summer off this year.”
“Thanks for the suggestions, ladies,” Katie said through clenched teeth. “But I’ve already told the groom I can’t attend the wedding for professional reasons.”
The women laughed. “I’m sorry, what reasons?” Carrie asked, raising a bedpan to imply that anyone could do Katie’s job.
It was no use. The two women were thoroughly under Luc’s spell, and who could blame them?
“Maybe we should talk privately,” Luc said. He clasped her wrist and led her to the glass doors at the front of the classroom. “It’s beautiful out here. The way you’re nestled in the hills, you’d never know there’s a city nearby.”
She nodded. “That’s Crystal Springs Reservoir on the other side of the freeway. It’s protected property, the drinking water for this entire area, so it’s stayed pristine.”
“I’m not going back to New Orleans without you,” he said.
Apparently the small talk had ended.
“My mother would have a fit if I brought one of the women I’d take to a Hollywood event to a family wedding.”
Katie felt a twinge of jealousy, then a stab of anger for her own weakness. Of course he dated beautiful women. He was a billionaire. A billionaire who looked like Luc DeForges! Granted, he was actually a multimillionaire, but it had been a long-standing joke between the two of them. Did it matter, once you made your first ten million, how much came after that? He may as well be called a gazillionaire. His finances were too foreign for her to contemplate.
“And who you date is my problem, how?”
“If my date tries to swing dance and kicks one of my mother’s friends in the teeth, I’ll be disinherited.”
“So what, would that make you the fifth richest man in the United States, instead of the fourth?”
“Katie, how many times do I have to explain to you I’m nowhere near those kinds of numbers?” He grinned. “Yet.” He touched his finger to her nose lightly. “My fate is much worse than losing status if you don’t come. My mother might set me up to ensure I have a proper date. A chorus line of Southern belles. And I guarantee you at least one will have the proverbial glass slipper and think her idea is so utterly unique, I’ll succumb to the fantasy.”
“Wow! What a terrible life you must lead.” She pulled a Keds slide from her foot and emptied sand out of her shoe. A few grains landed on Luc’s shiny black loafer. “To think, with courtship skills like that, that any woman wouldn’t be swept off her feet—it’s unfathomable.” She patted his arm. “I wish you luck, Luc. I’m sure your mother will have some very nice choices for you, so go enjoy yourself. Perk up, there’re billions more to be made when you get back.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Katie.”
He was right, but she didn’t trust herself around him.
She’d taken leave of her senses too many times in that weakened state. Since moving to California, she’d made it her goal to live life logically and for the Lord. She hadn’t fallen victim to her emotions since leaving New Orleans, and she’d invested too much to give into them now.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I only meant that I’m sure there are other nice girls willing to go home and pretend for your mother. I’ve already done that, only you forgot to tell me we were pretending. Remember?”
He flinched. “Below the belt.”
A pencil fell from behind her ear, and she stooped to pick it up, careful not to meet his glance as she rose. “I’m sorry, but I’m busy here. Maybe we could catch up another time? I’d like that and won’t be so sidetracked.” She looked across the room toward Austin, an angelic but severely autistic child in a wheelchair. He pounded against his tray. “The kids are getting hungry. It’s lunchtime.” She pointed to the schedule.
Luc scooped a hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Where else am I going to find a gorgeous redhead who knows who Glenn Miller is?”
“Don’t, Luc. Don’t charm me. It’s beneath you. Buy one of your bubble-headed blondes a box of dye and send her to iTunes to do research. Problem solved.”
He didn’t let go. “Ryan wants you to sing at the wedding, Katie. He sent me personally to make sure you’d be there and sing ‘Someone to Watch Over Me.’ I’m not a man who quits because something’s difficult.”
“Anyone worth her salt on Bourbon Street can sing that. Excuse me—”
“Katie-bug.”
“Luc, I asked you kindly. Don’t. I’m not one of your sophisticated girls who knows how to play games. I’m not going to the wedding. That part of my life is over.”
“That part of your life? What about that part of you? Where is she?”
She ignored his question. “I cannot be the only woman you know capable of being your date. You’re not familiar with anyone else who isn’t an actress-slash-waitress?” She cupped his hand in her own and allowed herself to experience the surge of energy. “I have to go.” She dropped his hands and pushed back through the half door. “I’m sure you have a meeting to get to. Am I right?”
“It’s true,” he admitted. “I had business in San Francisco today, a merger. We bought a small chain of health food stores to expand the brand. But I was planning the trip to see you anyway and ask you personally.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We’ll be doing specialty outlets in smaller locations where real estate prices are too high for a full grocery outlet.
Having the natural concept already in these locations makes my job that much easier.”
“To take over the free world with organics, you mean?”
That made him smile, and she warmed at the sparkle in his eye. When Luc was in his element, there was nothing like it. His excitement was contagious and spread like a classroom virus, infecting those around him with a false sense of security. She inhaled deeply and reminded herself that the man sold inspiration by the pound. His power over her was universal. It did not make her special.
“Name your price,” he said. “I’m here to end this rift between us, whatever it is, and I’ll do the time. Tell me what it is you want.”
“There is no price, Luc. I don’t want anything from you. I’m not going to Ryan’s wedding. My life is here.”
“Day and night . . . night and day,” he crooned and then his voice was beside her ear. “One last swing dance at my brother’s wedding. One last song and I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
She crossed the room to the sink against the far wall, but she felt him follow. She hated how he could make every nerve in her body come to life, while he seemingly felt nothing in return. She closed her eyes and searched for inner strength.
He didn’t want me. Not in a way that mattered. He wanted her when it suited him to have her at his side.
“Even if I were able to get the time off work, Luc, it wouldn’t be right to go to your brother’s wedding as your date. I’m about to get engaged.”
“Engaged?” He stepped away.
She squeezed hand sanitizer onto her hands and rubbed thoroughly.
“I’ll give a call to your fiancé and let him know the benefits.” He pulled a small leather pad of paper from his coat pocket. “I’ll arrange everything. You get a free trip home, I get a Christian date my mother is proud to know, and then your life goes back to normal. Everyone’s happy.” He took off his fedora as though to plead his case in true gentlemanly fashion. “My mother is still very proud to have led you from your . . .” He choked back a word. “From your previous life and to Jesus.”
The announcement of her engagement seemed to have had little effect on Luc, and Katie felt as if her heart shattered all over again. “My previous life was you. She was proud to lead me away from her son’s life.” She leaned on the countertop, trying to remember why she’d come to the kitchen area.
“You know what I meant.”
“I wasn’t exactly a streetwalker, Luc. I w
as a late-night bar singer in the Central District, and the only one who ever led my reputation into question was you. So I’m failing to see the mutual benefit here. Your mother. Your date. And I get a free trip to a place I worked my tail off to get out of.”
She struggled with a giant jar of applesauce, which Luc took from her and opened easily. He passed the jar back to her and let his fingers brush hers.
“My mother would be out of her head to see you. And the entire town could see what they lost when they let their prettiest belle go. Come help me remind them. Don’t you want to show them that you’re thriving? That you didn’t curl up and die after that awful night?”
“I really don’t need to prove anything, Luc.” She pulled her apron, with its child-size handprints in primary colors, over her head. “I’m not your fallback, and I really don’t care if people continue to see me that way. They don’t know me.”
“Which you? The one who lives a colorless existence and calls it holy? Or the one who danced on air and inspired an entire theater troupe to rediscover swing and raise money for a new stage?” Luc bent down, took her out at the knees, and hoisted her up over his shoulder.
“What are you doing? Do you think you’re Tarzan? Put me down.” She pounded on his back, and she could hear the chaos he’d created in the classroom. “These kids need structure. What do you think you’re doing? I demand you put me down!”
Chapter 2
DON'T GET AROUND MUCH ANYMORE
Luc never broke his stride. He pushed through the school’s glass doors as if it was perfectly natural to have a woman flung over his shoulder. Outside, he gently slid her off him and placed her on the sidewalk, or banquette as they called it back home. He grabbed her by the wrist so she couldn’t take off for the door. “There. We’ll have a little privacy now.”
She flipped her head over in front of him, allowing her ponytail to smack him across the face, which seemed as childish as digging her nails into a playground nemesis. “Go ahead. Grab it and drag me back to your cave now, you Neanderthal. Is that how they solve disagreements in corporate America? No wonder this country’s going down the tubes.”
From her vantage upside down, she noticed Luc’s limousine stretched carelessly across the parking lot, blocking the staff’s row of compact beaters. At the sight of the driver’s impish grin she straightened back up, but not before she heard a set of clicks and caught sight of a man running. “Who was that?”
Luc chuckled. “That was what we call the paparazzi— most aptly named after buzzing mosquitoes, I might add.”
“What are they doing here?”
“Right about now? I think they’re catching multimillionaire bachelor Luc DeForges being smacked in the face by a feisty redhead’s ponytail. Now, why I’m being smacked in the face, that will be where their stellar storytelling comes in. Perhaps you caught me cheating on you? Or maybe you’re a former roommate of my girlfriend . . . It’s anybody’s guess.”
“Well, go catch him!” She shook his shoulders, then heard more clicks. “Luc! I’m going to be engaged. I can’t be seen smacking you in the face with my ponytail!”
“Or shaking me? That looks pretty bad on film too, just so you know.”
“Luc, I am a teacher of special needs children. I can’t be seen getting violent with a man in front of my school. It could cost me my job!”
“Then you probably shouldn’t have done it.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding me, right? This is all part of your elaborate plan to get me to do what you want.”
“I told you those stories about me in the tabloids were made-up. The ‘bubble-headed blondes,’ as you call them. The many ‘walks of shame’ you supposedly see me taking. Maybe there’s another story, that’s all I’m saying.”
“What you do with your time is no concern of mine.”
“It’s good for you to see how made-up my image is. It’s what sells rags: ‘Organic King Is a Dog.’ I have to say, though, seeing how boring you’ve become, I’m hoping they come up with something really spicy so you leave the single life with zeal. Do you think the folks back home will recognize us together? You being upside down and all. I think he got your good side, though.”
“Luc! It’s not funny! What is Dexter going to say? How do I even explain to him that I didn’t invite you here? What’s my church going to say?” The more animated she grew, the more sedate he became. She grabbed him again by the shoulders. “Luc!”
“You’re so beautiful, Katie. I forgot how those eyes of yours get to a guy.”
She dropped her hands to her side. “You’re rich and famous. I’m just a schoolteacher. What’s my fiancé going to think? I never explained that you were my ex.”
“Don’t think Poindexter could handle the competition? I’m flattered. That’s kind of you, to take his lack of faith in himself into consideration.”
Katie felt the blood drain from her face. “Did you just say Poindexter?”
“Poindexter, yeah. He’s the one who gave me your address at work. How’d you think I found you?”
“You knew . . . about Dexter?” Her mind churned. Did it bother Luc that she was about to pledge her life to another? If it did, he showed no sign of it.
“I prefer Poindexter. It fits him.”
“It doesn’t!” she protested, with slightly too much venom in her voice. She sucked in a deep breath before she continued. “Dex is brilliant. He went to MIT.”
“Book learnin’. I figured, but I’m not impressed.”
“Fortunately, it doesn’t matter what you think.”
“Why aren’t you engaged already? If he’s going to do it, why doesn’t he just ask? What’s all the talk?”
“If you must know, my ring is back home.” Her voice trailed off, and she closed her eyes.
“To get engaged you need your nana’s ring? So it seems you do need to get back home to New Orleans.”
She sighed in defeat.
“It’s my business to know about people when I’m entering into a negotiation. Certainly a potential fiancé creates an obstacle to my dating the woman he supposedly loves. I need to factor this into the equation. But it also helps that I know you need to get home, Katie, and I have the opportunity to offer you a free trip.” He focused on her stained shirt. “I thought maybe we could help each other out.”
“Dex doesn’t know about you, Luc. I mean, he knows about you being my boyfriend all through college and of course . . . the rest of it. But he doesn’t know you’re the billionaire in the tabloids!” She stamped her foot like a toddler. “How could you let this happen?”
“I didn’t know they’d follow me here.”
“That wasn’t part of your brilliant equation?” The edge in her voice was unmistakable.
Luc chuckled. “I never imagined I’d give them the money shot of a woman slung over my shoulder, with a follow-up shot of her slapping me with her lustrous tresses. I imagine that photographer can take a few days off now.” He lifted a forefinger. “You’re right, this was a great breach of offensive tactics, and I regret the error.”
“You can’t let that picture be printed.” Her throat clamped with emotion. “Luc, I’ve worked so hard to be this new person. Please! ”
His rational voice remained unchanged. “There was nothing wrong with your old person.”
“That’s not what I mean. This is pointless!” She walked back to the doors, and he pressed against them. “I’m not going home with you. I would rather hitchhike across the country or ride the next hurricane in than enter that den of iniquity you call a private jet.”
He laughed. “Den of . . . never mind. Now that I finally have your attention, Miss McKenna, let’s get down to business. As I stated earlier, my brother Ryan is having a forties-themed wedding in approximately two weeks. I can’t imagine you’d let him get married without your presence. In fact, I find the option rude and completely out of your character.”
“Ryan will understand. I didn’t even make it to my own mot
her’s wedding!”
“Where are you, Katie? Where’s that girl who can swing dance with the grace of water? The one who can rock a pencil skirt and clunky heels . . . sing a love song so that the listeners think their own hearts are breaking? Where’s the Katie that I knew, who could make a man want to go to war just for the sheer pleasure of returning home? Where is she now?”
She blinked away her emotions. “Save that garbage for someone who buys your lines and takes the familiar walk of shame from your jet.” She turned and strode back toward the building.
“Careful, Katie. It may appear from those pictures as if you’re doing your own walk of shame. I wouldn’t be so quick to judge if I were you.”
“What kind of scorned woman dresses like a haus frau?” She spoke the words to the door, but she could feel him behind her and caught his reflection in the window.
“Ah, so you do have some vanity left in you after all.” He raised his arm to the sky and caught the limo driver’s attention. “Find out who got that shot and offer to pay for it!” His gaze fell back upon her as he gently turned her by the shoulders. “I’ll do my best. Hopefully, we know the kid and we can pay him off. Now, back to our negotiations—”
She felt worn and lifeless, like a true rag doll. She’d rather feed the kids eight times over than enter a battle of wills with Luc DeForges. She tugged at the hem of her shirt. “You have no idea what’s going to happen in that room if the kids aren’t fed on time. Their schedule is crucial. Each day must be like the last with small, announced changes—” She karate chopped her palm for emphasis, and Luc laughed. She felt it to her core.
“Who are you now, Katie?” He looked at her with what might only be described as pity.
“This is who I am!”
“I know you think so.” He lifted one brow, as if going in for the kill. “It’s a free trip home, Katie. No strings attached. No expectations, and a free forties outfit. Ingrid Bergman or Ginger Rogers, the look is on me. The chance to revisit the old Katie, just to see if she has anything to say to you. Maybe you’re right . . .” He stood straighter and stepped away from her. “That part of you is gone, but what have you got to lose? And you wouldn’t dare let me announce to my brother I’d failed at something, would you? Besides, if you’re planning to move ahead with this wedding, you need your nana’s ring.”
A Billion Reasons Why Page 2
