Betting on Both

by Sheryl Nantus

  And the renovations continued. Without fail and without any free passes because they were together.

  Cole had had to stand outside Kat’s office twice while she engaged in a screaming match with Julien over renovation details, both fights ending with Julien exiting in a snarling, angry mood because she’d overridden him. His own confrontation with Julien over a security risk involving one of the waitresses had brought them almost to blows.

  But all fights ended at the bedroom.

  No matter how hard or annoying the day had been, the night was a clean sheet of paper for them to draw their dreams on. If Julien wasn’t dragging them off to some nightclub or café, they were on the couch enjoying a movie, Kat tucked between the two of them, or they’d end up watching a football game and trying to get Kat to choose sides.

  Then they would go to bed, grabbing at Kat like a pair of playful puppies with their favorite toy, teasing her until she gave in and told them what she wanted.

  Breakfast together had become a necessary routine before they split up, Julien to oversee the renovations, and Kat to her office, working to procure the best for the Majestic. Most of it entailed public relations and Cole was always by her side, keeping her safe.

  If anyone noticed she spent an inordinate amount of time with the site manager and her security head, they said nothing.

  Which, as Cole fastened the last of the buttons on his shirt and walked into the living room, was just fine with him.

  Kat, wearing a light pink blouse and jeans, laughed at some joke Julien made as she speared a thick piece of steak on her fork. The spread this morning, courtesy of the excellent kitchen downstairs, included steak and eggs, a bowl of fresh fruit, and two large carafes of orange juice along with coffee.

  The extra-large breakfast order didn’t faze the chefs anymore.

  Cole loaded up his plate, adding a dash of hot sauce to the scrambled eggs. He settled into the chair opposite Kat and Julien, noting how she was again stealing the majority of fresh watermelon from the fruit dish.

  Julien ate, as usual, wearing nothing but his pants. The man had a knack of dribbling sauce on his front so he’d taken to keeping his chest bare, claiming it saved on having his shirts cleaned.

  Cole suspected it was more a case of wanting to tease Kat.

  “So where do you fellows want to go next? Las Vegas? Overseas?” Kat asked. She scooped up the last of the hash browns. “I’ll be able to write my own ticket when the Majestic reopens. Give me some ideas and I can start asking around, see what’s going to be available.”

  Julien paused with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth, his forehead furrowed. He put his fork down. “What do you mean, ‘next’?”

  Kat gestured at the window. “After the Majestic is finished I’ll be moving to the next McMaster project. And the next and so on. Cole will be coming with me, of course.”

  Cole paused. He hadn’t thought past the end of the renovations.

  “Right?” She looked at Cole. “I know you want to be a security director. When I get the Belle Dame in Vegas you can take over there. Or wherever we end up.” She gave them both a wide smile, sending Cole’s heart rate soaring. “Unless Jacob isn’t happy with the Majestic, and I sincerely doubt that.”

  “But—” Julien’s attempt to break in didn’t work.

  Kat looked at him. “I don’t see a problem with moving you up the ladder. With your qualifications it’ll be easy to justify a transfer.” She waved her fork in the air. “I’ll always need a good man to whip the locals into shape, and you’re the one to do it. You’ve done magic with the contractors here and the staff adore you. I’d love the chance to duplicate that elsewhere.”

  Julien lowered his head.

  Cole felt the sudden chill in the air.

  Kat glanced over at Cole, then back to Julien, a frown replacing her wide smile. “Julien?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t leave.” Julien wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin before standing. “I can’t go with you.”

  He wouldn’t meet Kat’s eyes as he walked into Cole’s bedroom.

  Kat looked at Cole, confusion in her gaze. She mouthed the words What’s wrong?

  Cole shrugged, unable to answer her.

  Julien came out, buttoning his white dress shirt. He stopped and let his hands fall to his sides. “I guess I owe you more than that.”

  Cole looked at Kat before speaking. “Only if you want to. I’m not the one to go pushing for answers.”

  Julien gave him a sheepish grin. “True.” He returned to re-buttoning his shirt, circling around the room. “I told you I lost everything when Katrina hit. There’s a bit more to it than that.”

  Kat stiffened in her chair.

  “My grandmother raised me when my mother wasn’t interested in being a mother. She was on the wrong side of the wall when the levees broke.”

  Cole flinched. He’d seen the images of the water pouring in through the shattered barriers, the devastation left behind.

  “I was working at one of the casinos. She called and told me she was going to try and get to safety with her neighbors, she . . .” He stopped, suddenly out of breath.

  Kat reached out and took his hand. She led him to the couch and sat, pulling him down beside her.

  Julien kept talking. “Someone saw her helping a mother with her children get to higher ground. That was the last report I can find.”

  “What do you mean, the last report?” Kat asked.

  Julien looked down at their entwined fingers. “I never heard from her again. At first I thought she was in one of the shelters, maybe evacuated to another city and unable to get in contact with me. But the days stretched on to weeks and then months.” He paused. “Years.”

  Cole joined them on the couch, sitting next to Julien. He cleared his throat, unsure how to approach the discussion. “Is it possible she . . .” His voice faded as he struggled to find the words.

  “Died? The odds against that aren’t good. She wasn’t a young woman. She had an arthritic hip and diabetes.” Julien grunted. “I checked the hospitals and morgues, the shelters, and all the obituary listings. I’ve never been able to find her. Not even a trace.”

  “You think she’s still alive?” Kat whispered.

  “No. Yes. Maybe.” Julien let out a weary sigh. “I want to believe she’s somewhere out there, readying to come back home. That she found herself in another city and hasn’t been able to get back yet, even after ten years. That’s what I’d like to believe. But I know she’s probably dead, her body washed out to sea or lost somewhere in the debris left over.” He looked at her. “I can’t leave this city until I know what happened to her.”

  “You might never know,” Cole said softly. “It’s been over a decade. There’s not much left that hasn’t been dealt with.”

  “I know. Every few weeks I talk to the shelters, check the obits hoping against hope that I’ll find something, some clue as to what happened to her. And I haven’t, yet. But I can’t up and move to another city until I find out for certain. Which is why I will likely never leave New Orleans. I can’t.” He shook his head. “I’ve tried; Lord knows I’ve tried. But as soon as I find myself in another city, even for only one night I dream of her coming down the street, calling my name, and not being able to find me.” Julien choked up. “I wake up crying and wanting to find her, find something of hers so I can lay her to rest properly. Everyone deserves a grave.” He looked at Cole. “You understand. Of all people, you understand.”

  Cole pulled Julien into a tight embrace, kissing the side of his neck as he fumbled for the words, the emotions clogging his throat.

  Julien sighed, acknowledging what had previously gone unsaid.

  Cole released Julien to Kat, who pulled the grieving man into her arms.

  After a few minutes Julien looked up at her. “This is my home. If you leave, I can’t follow. I’m sorry.”

  “I understand.” Kat looked from one man to the other. “So what do you sugge
st I do?”

  “You can stay here.” Julien took her hand. “Stay here at the Majestic. You need a home, a place to let your heart settle. Let New Orleans be that for you.”

  “But—” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t own the hotel. McMaster Industries does. What if I’m ordered elsewhere? What do I do?”

  “I can’t make that decision for you. I won’t,” Julien said in a soft whisper. “All I can do is tell you where I stand. You’ve got to do what’s right for you. I know I’m asking a lot.” Julien looked from her to Cole and back again. “From both of you. But I have to be honest.” One edge of his mouth quirked up. “That’s one of the rules we agreed to.”

  Cole matched his half-smile with a nod. “True.”

  Kat gave a reluctant tilt of her head. “Thank you. I hadn’t thought about . . .” She paused and took a deep breath. “I’ll have to think this over.”

  Julien kissed her hand before standing and kissing her lips, a gentle sensual buff. “That’s all I can ask.” He finished buttoning his shirt and tucked it into his jeans before picking up his briefcase. “Got to go check on the waitstaff and make sure they’ve all got their new uniforms.” He stopped at the door. “I love you and will support you no matter what you decide to do. Don’t forget that.”

  “I know.” Kat waved. “See you later.”

  “Don’t get too worried about it,” Cole said, seeing Kat’s frown as the door clicked shut. “Let’s get through the reopening first. Nothing’s going to happen right away; we’ll have time to figure things out and make everyone happy.” He went into his room, returning with a black tie in one hand. “Your grandfather is due in tomorrow night. I’ve got a full day of security drills set up along with more testing of those new cameras.”

  “Good,” Kat said.

  He saw the shift in her stance, the businesswoman coming to the forefront. “I want him to see a fresh, new take on the Majestic. I want him to be dazzled; I want him to forget that any other casino or hotel exists that’s as good as ours.”

  Cole finished with the tie and tucked his shirt in. “He will be. I’ve worked at a lot of McMaster properties and none of them had the personality, the flair you’ve got going here.” He gave a reluctant laugh. “Julien was right; tearing off the old paint and going full-bore restoration was the way to go, along with the new uniforms and atmosphere. The man knows his stuff.”

  “He does,” Kat agreed. She stood and walked over to fuss with his tie. “But don’t tell Julien. He’s already preening himself every time he does an interview for the papers. Latest story I saw he was bragging about the charity event for the homeless shelters a week after we open.”

  Cole chuckled and moved in to kiss her. “The man’s ego is big enough.”

  She poked him in the chest. “I thought we agreed not to fight over size.”

  A hard knocking at the door froze them in place before he could think of an appropriate response.

  Cole put his finger to his lips and gestured her to move toward his room. His hand went to the pistol at the small of his back, the leather holster cold to the touch.

  He went to the door, his stomach twisting into knots. He’d left standing orders for no one to approach the suite until after he and Julien had left every morning. Any messages were to be either by text or phone call.

  Something was wrong.

  A second knock.

  “It’s Phil. Excelsior.”

  Cole relaxed upon hearing the safe word, exhaling slowly. He opened the door to see the security man standing in the hallway.

  “Scared the crap out of me,” Cole said with a bark. “What’s wrong?”

  Phil waved him onward, out of the room. Cole stepped through, using one foot to keep the door from locking shut.

  “I figured you’d want to see this pronto.” Phil looked at Cole, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.” He took the bundle of papers from under his arm and handed them to Cole. “Just came in from the inter-office delivery. Straight from New York, priority rush. I thought you’d like to see it instead of having it surprise her downstairs.”

  The papers were held together with a thick plastic band, a single yellow sticky note on the top.

  There was no writing. Just a large, fat exclamation mark in black.

  Cole looked at the top image under the note. It was a tabloid paper, one of many brands he remembered from New York and Los Angeles. He hadn’t seen any issues of late; the newsstand downstairs was banned from carrying, he remembered the quote from the memo, “such trash.”

  This issue was different, however.

  For one, he was on the cover. Along with Kat and Julien.

  It was a black-and-white photo of the three of them exiting a nightclub, the two men curled around her as they laughed.

  Cole felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He flipped through the various magazines, finding variations on the same theme.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” Phil nodded. His face was wet with sweat. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “But you must have known this was going to happen.”

  Cole sighed. “I’d hoped they had given up on her. It’s been years and she’s done good work, hard work.”

  “Not your fault,” Phil said. “None of you have done anything wrong.” He gestured at the pages. “They can’t be locals. None of them would have the balls to turn on you and Julien and Kat, not after all your hard work.”

  “Thanks for the support.”

  “Hey. I’m happy for you. But now it’s hit the fan. What do you want to do?” Phil gestured at the stack. “They’re hitting the shelves today around the country. Dollars to donuts they timed it with the Majestic’s reopening. Get the biggest bang for their buck and ride the media train that’s already chugging here.”

  Neither of them mentioned the elephant in the room.

  Jacob McMaster.

  “Keep on schedule. Nothing changes, nothing out of the ordinary.” Cole rolled the tabloids back into a tight bundle. “As far as the staff’s concerned, nothing’s happened. We’re due to reopen in two days, and we’re going to do that. This—” He held up the packet. “This doesn’t affect anyone else. The Majestic’s going to have its day in the sun and it’s going to be successful, and nothing about this will stop that.”

  Phil nodded. “I’ll pass the word.” He headed for the elevator. “Sorry about this.”

  “Me too.” Cole reached for the door he’d just exited.

  Kat stood and stretched toward the ceiling, mentally shifting gears for the day. It was all fine and dandy to spend nights with her men, but now it was time to get down to the nitty-gritty business of making the Majestic sing again. The excitement was building; she could feel it in the way the staff walked around, the pride they took in their jobs. The lethargy she’d seen on her first night was gone, everyone from the blackjack dealers to the waitresses smiling and enthusiastic about the reopening.

  This was going to be the talk of the town. Enough to pull in a strong profit and show her grandfather she was not only able to bring the Majestic back from the brink, but good enough to take over one of the company’s major hotels elsewhere.

  If she wanted to leave.

  The recent conversation with Julien reverberated in her mind. She’d gotten comfortable with the cafés, the jazz clubs, the rich spicy food.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about moving on now.

  The front door reopened and Cole stepped in. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his shoulders taut and almost shaking with the tension.

  Her stomach twisted into knots, the previous peace shattered. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He shook his head and tossed a bundle of papers onto the table, scattering them over the remains of their breakfast.

  The color images jumped out at her, the headlines in large stark letters.

  MCMASTER MÉNAGE! ROCKING IT IN NEW ORLEANS! KAT’S COMPANY!

  The photographs were crisp and clear, showing her at a restaurant table with Co
le and Julien. Of the three of them strolling along in the French Quarter; laughing and clapping at a jazz band performance. The three of them in a horse-drawn carriage going through a park, her head resting on Cole’s shoulder while Julien held her hand.

  She picked up the top one with numb fingers and flipped through the pages, steeling herself for what lay inside.

  The story was filled with the usual hyperbole she’d seen in the past, babbling on about her unorthodox relationship with the two men.

  “No explicit pictures. Thank God,” she murmured as Cole grabbed one, crunching it in his fist.

  “This is . . .” He shook his head, at a loss for words.

  Julien stormed in, waving the extra room key she’d given him. “I heard the news as soon as I got to the lobby. Everyone’s talking about it.” His attention fell on the papers covering the table. “Damn.”

  Cole dropped into a chair, still gripping one of the tabloids. “That and then some.” He waved it in the air. “I don’t even want to think about damage control.”

  “What’s to control?” Julien asked. He jammed his hands in his pockets. “We’re not doing anything illegal. We’re not sneaking around, as those photos clearly show. What’s so wrong with what we’re doing?”

  “Nothing. But . . .” Kat caught herself, trying to sort out her jumbled thoughts. She sat on the couch, fighting back the tears. “I guess this is all my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault. The heart wants what the heart wants, and you, my love, have the biggest heart of all three of us.” He pressed her hand against his heart. “We two are blessed to have a woman like you in our lives.” He looked at Cole and received a nod in confirmation.

  “And you have nothing to be ashamed of or apologize for,” Julien continued. “This is a new age, a new world. This is New Orleans. And for those who know us, know me, they won’t care what’s on the front page of some silly paper.” He picked up one of the papers and smacked the cover with the back of his hand. “This will be over by next week when they move onto something else. Another starlet caught with her best friend’s man, a reality star whining about the lack of reality in his or her life.”