Life had delivered her an awesome singing contract. That news alone thrilled her, but she also had a boyfriend, who realized his mistake and showed his apologies with a bouquet of flowers. Jessica Gold was on her way up. She could skip to work with all this happiness around her.
Except she walked, like she always did. A breeze tickled at her neck and carried the rattling of a streetcar to her ears. She beat a rhythm on her hips and let a tune slip from between her lips. She waved to her sister, who sat on the front porch of the parish house. Teresa rushed from her seat. Jess went silent at the furrowed brows and downward drop of her mouth.
“We have to talk,” Teresa said.
Of all the phrases she’d heard over the years, that one had to be the harbinger of doom, or at least really bad news. She hated hearing it after a gig. It meant the club owner didn’t have use for you any longer. What bad news Teresa intended stumped Jess, though. “Has anyone on the receiving end of that statement ever ended up happy?”
“I don’t know, and it’s not my concern. We need to talk about you.”
She’d had that kind of one-sided conversation before. Teresa would say all of her points and expect Jess to follow them perfectly. She had no intention of doing that today, unless the admonishments were to enjoy her time fully and to focus more on rehearsals. “I’ll listen.”
Teresa pointed to one of three chairs on the porch. Jess barely touched the cool metal before her sibling talked. “Why are you spending so much time with Mr. Favreau?”
“I enjoy his company.”
“How much of his company do you enjoy?”
She wouldn’t tell her sister that. “He’s cousins with a friend of mine, and he happened to be at a few Tres Belles performances. He’s interested in music and learning more about the city.” They had discussed music when they had time for talking.
“Are you sure that’s all he’s interested in?”
“What is wrong with him liking me?”
“He’s a former cop, and they can have a dark side. You’ve not always been a good judge of character. We can’t afford to bail you out again.”
The only way to defuse her sister was to give in momentarily. “Yep. Three years ago, I had a lapse of good judgment and got into a bad situation. Drew isn’t like that scumbag.”
“How can you know that?”
“How can you know the opposite? Why do you think he’s bad?” Jess could hardly keep in her seat. “You waxed poetic about the breakfast brigade on Saturday, and you beamed at him when you saw him on Sunday. I even think you were flirting with him the other day.”
“How dare you say that? It’s called being friendly.”
“That isn’t how it looked as you gave me job after job that kept him with you and me away from him. Why did you do that?”
“Because you had that look.” Teresa crossed her arms and scowled. “And he did, too.”
Jess knew what she meant, but she wanted to make her sister say it. “What look?”
“Like you wanted to rip off his clothes. You probably have already, and the whole church is going to find out. You’ll make us look bad again, Jessica.”
“That’s enough, Teresa.” Her sister cared too much about her reputation instead of her own sister’s happiness. Both Teresa and Bill possessed a paranoia that the lyrics of the songs she sang would reflect badly on them if the church members were to see Jess perform.
It was as if they didn’t understand that, in New Orleans, the night job could be a complete one eighty from the day job. She often talked to an amazingly fun guy named Allen who worked for Saint Louis Cathedral’s event office during the day and performed as a transvestite in the evening. He never said one word about the priest disliking what he did at night.
“I fail to see how dating someone will bring shame on you and Bill. He has a job. He’s older, more stable, and he likes that I am more than a secretary.” Jess walked down the porch steps. “And, I haven’t removed one stitch of his clothing.” She delighted in the truth of that.
****
Drew timed it perfectly this Monday morning. He walked into the church office at 11:37am. Both Reverend Townsend and Jess looked flustered when he arrived.
“Mr. Favreau,” the reverend exclaimed, “this is the worst time. We’re off, both of us, to help usher the preschool children to their parents’ cars. It’s slight pandemonium.”
“The traffic cop sneers at us when we take too long, and no one likes to mess with the NOPD.” Jess added with a smile, and he was glad that she’d accepted his “apology via bouquet” that he left at her door late on Saturday.
“Do you mind waiting?” The reverend’s eyes were so wide that Drew thought of that scream painting. The nervousness set off his internal detective alarms. Townsend had something to hide, which meant Drew would have to work on emphasizing the internet firewall work that he and Ward were implementing for a few companies. He didn’t want the man to suspect he was under investigation.
“Of course not. I’ll make myself comfortable and review some security system notes my boss just sent. Gotta love these phones that let you put your office in your pocket.” He looked around the office for something innocuous to add to his activities. A newsletter lay on a small table next to a high-backed upholstered chair. “Ah, I’ll read when those get boring,” he said as he picked up the paper.
“Thank you for understanding. It will be maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. Jessica can stay behind for a moment if you need anything.”
Drew thought of all the needs Jess could fulfill, like wrapping her pale pink lips around his cock or lifting up that flouncy purple skirt for a quickie—neither appropriate for the venue. He cleared his throat along with his mind. He came to snoop around the office, not to get his jollies with the secretary. If he didn’t keep reminding himself of that, he’d be in too deep with her, and that would compromise the investigation. “I’m fine.”
“Thank you. We’ll be right back.” Both of them rushed to the rear of the building.
When he couldn’t hear their footsteps, he entered the reverend’s office. He looked through the few papers on the desk, but nothing resembled financial information. He shook the mouse to the computer and waited for the log in screen to appear. To his surprise, no prompt for a password popped up. Without sitting, Drew searched for the recent documents and set it to print when he saw the numbers. The printer whined and set ink on the page as he moved to Jessica’s desk.
Everything on her desk had its place. A rainbow of folders sat on the corner. He reached for green, and was rewarded when he saw columns of numbers. He didn’t see a copier, so he snapped a photo with his phone.
When he opened her desk drawer he saw exactly what he needed—a stack of cash secured with a rubber band and a few checks. Under those was her tally sheet, printed, with the file name at the top. He counted the cash and the checks. She hadn’t fudged any numbers. She, at least, began the process honestly. Yet, somewhere in the accounting, somebody skimmed enough money to make the diocese worry.
Drew took the papers from the printer and groaned. He’d expected neat rows of numbers and got dots in random places. The ink had run dry. Time had run out. He heard Reverend Townsend’s voice mixed with one that sounded like Mrs. Townsend’s. Drew couldn’t get out of the office without looking guilty, so he stayed.
They found him in a state of admiration, hand on his chin and nodding at a copy of a painting on the reverend’s wall. The reverend, his wife and Jess had their heads tilted to the side as if they wondered as a group why he stared at the wall. “Oh,” he jumped in mock surprise, “I got restless. Went looking for art, and found it in the sanctuary with the windows. I came back here thinking I’d missed you, and…”
“Here we find you, Mr. Favreau. Do you admire art?” The reverend’s question sounded like an accusation to Drew’s trained ear.
He smiled and nodded as he spoke. “Of all kinds, all kinds. You miss a lot of beauty when you work in the trenches. I’m trying to
catch up by finding music, and there’s plenty in this city. Last week during lunch, I went to a museum not too far from where I work.” He held up a finger. “I do want to visit a street fair so that I can touch the art. I’m a very tactile person. I like to get my hands on beautiful things.” He fought the urge to wink at Jessica.
“There are plenty of those around this time of year.” Bill clasped his hands and asked, “We’re sorry that we rushed away earlier, but what can we do for you today?”
“Ah, I wanted permission to take Ms. Oldham to lunch. I enjoyed her company on Saturday.” He watched Jess stiffen beside her sister.
Bill lifted an eyebrow. “My permission?”
Teresa grabbed her husband’s arm, but looked at Drew. “Mr. Favreau, if you could excuse us for a moment.” At his nod, she closed the door behind Drew and Jessica as they left the reverend’s office.
Drew rubbed his hand along the back of Jess’ arm. He craved her. “What problems did I just start?”
“It’s tense right now.” Jess whispered. “Both of them are jumpy, touchy, and I don’t know why. Bill’s been looking over my shoulder all day. It’s like the first few days I worked here with him.”
“I meant your sister.” He kept his voice low, too. The floors and walls made sounds echo.
“She doesn’t like you.” Jess frowned.
Had he made a misstep? Did she suspect that he was something other than he presented? “She liked me well enough two days ago.”
“I think she saw us walking on Saturday. That changed things.” Jess lifted her shoulders. “I guess. She practically yelled at me this morning. She’s telling him not to let me go. Why did you even ask?”
He held her hand. “To give him power. To make him feel like I’m not stealing you from your job. The only permission I need is from you. I don’t care what he says.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “What if he says no?”
“Sneak out.” He grinned.
She shoved him, but not enough to move him. “How old are you?”
“I’m reliving my youth. You have magical powers.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ve never felt better.”
“Me, either.”
“Your sister sees that, and it’s made her jealous. You’re glowing. Happy. Moving forward. And wearing happy clothes to work.” He touched the waist of her lavender dress.
She twirled, and the fabric lifted in the air. “I am. A flouncy skirt and more.”
“See.” He trailed his fingers along the hem as it floated in front of him. “You have romance.”
She stopped her turn. “Is that what we have?” She leaned close and licked the tip of his earlobe. “I thought we had sex.”
“It’s a type of romance that she obviously doesn’t get much of.” He breathed in the floral scent she wore. The woman intoxicated him.
“I’ll only have time for lunch.” She shot him a knowing look.
“I have my car. My place is minutes away. I have the makings for a picnic. We have time for a quickie, and you get to come first.”
“Drew…”
“I need you.” Needed to get over his guilt for inspecting her files and poking around the reverend’s office. She appeared to be clean, at least, which alleviated some of his worries of whether he’d repeatedly fucked an embezzler. And man, how much he wanted to keep fucking her. A worry niggled at him that later she’d be angry at him for using her to get information, but if she was innocent, she’d understand and forgive him. Surely, she would.
“Quick trip to the bathroom, then we go.”
“What about them?” He pointed to the reverend’s office.
“Let them argue. We have more pleasant things to do.”
Drew needed to stay on the good side of the reverend. Getting a look at his house and possibly his files could mean the difference between getting the case solved and being able to make a real go with Jess. He knew for her sake that the flings should stop. Yet, his chance to get deeper into the church’s files might depend on him staying close to her. “I’ve got an idea. I act clueless, knock, and say that we’re headed out. I’ve got business to do and only so much time for lunch.”
“Drew.” She reached for him, and he dodged.
He knocked and shouted through the wood of the door. “We’re heading out. I’m sure I’ll see you later.” He guided Jess to the door with his hand on her lower back.
As he turned the outside door knob, he heard the scrape of the office door opening. “I’m afraid I can’t spare Jessica today, but how about dinner at our house on Thursday?”
Drew checked the face of Teresa before he answered. She’d wiped it clean of emotion. This hadn’t been her idea. “Thursday?” He pretended to contemplate it for a moment, when he had no choice. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
The reverend put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. Drew saw the slight tensing of his hand. “Yes. It’s the perfect time. Isn’t it, Teresa?”
The woman’s face transformed from no emotion to the paragon to happiness. “We’d love to have you to a family dinner, Mr. Favreau. Six o’clock.”
His spirits sunk a bit. He’d counted on having this time with Jess to ask her more about her secretarial job to better understand the financial process and who did what. He couldn’t do that at a dinner. He covered his disappointment with a beaming smile to the Townsends. “I look forward to it.” He changed his face as he turned to Jess. “Sorry to miss this time with you.”
She took his offered hand and opened the door. “I’ll walk you out. I could use a bit of sunshine.” When the hinge banged it shut, she took another few strides and spit out, “I can’t believe you just let them control you like that. You let them control me, and I’m so tired of that. Oh.” Her breath whooshed out. “They think they are the only ones who know anything, and by telling you no, they’re exercising their dominion over me. I hate this. I’m going with you. C’mon.”
Whoa. He had not expected this. He didn’t mind some spunk, particularly when it came with such a voice and passion. But, she could have picked a better moment to begin defying her family. “Jess, it’s fine. I’m going for family harmony over a tense day at work for you.”
“No.” She stomped her foot, and Drew thought she looked like a little girl angry about having to leave the playground.
“Hey,” he took her hand and walked with her to his car. “I get it. The way I look at it, I get to be around you more if we let them have their way today. We do dinner Thursday. We don’t stay for dessert. I’ll even pretend to not feel well.” He winked. “Our treat will be each other.”
She closed her eyes and leaned on his car. “Okay.”
“Do you think they are watching?”
Her eyes squinted. “I’m sure they are, but I can’t tell from here. There’s a huge glare on the window. Why?”
He answered her with a kiss, and not a quick one. He tasted her lips and entwined his tongue with hers. They might deny him a quickie, but he wouldn’t be deprived of a moment of her sensuous body. She pressed into him and held his face to hers with her hands on his jaws. He pulled from the kiss when desire built in him like fire. With the heat of the growing sun, he felt that he’d explode if he touched Jess one second longer.
Her eyes twinkled, or either the sunlight through the swaying leaves of the oak trees gave that impression. Either way, the woman glowed. “Oh, that’s why.”
“I’ll see you Thursday.”
“I’ll plan a special treat.”
“You are all that I need.” He meant that, even if he shouldn’t act on it Thursday evening. He had to stay objective until he had solid proof that Jess wasn’t involved, but accomplishing that around her had proved impossible. The reverend, though, too much about him appeared perfect. That alone convinced Drew that he had something to hide.
Chapter Eleven
Jess hadn’t experienced many moments in her life when she was the victim of both jittery nervousness making her stomach flop along with a sense of
impending doom, but the dinner with Drew and her family numbered among them. She’d tolerated Bill and Teresa all week as they hovered around her and selected tasks that would take her hours to complete. She’d cleaned out the Sunday school closet and helped teach at the preschool.
After the Wednesday spaghetti dinner, a new addition to the church’s outreach to the homeless, Teresa had begged off on the pretense of a sore back and asked Jess to scrub the kitchen from top to bottom. They did all this to keep her from Drew, or that’s what she thought. Tonight, she’d spend even more time around them, pretending to be happy.
Yet, beside her, or she hoped he’d defy whatever attempts they made to separate them, would be that hunk of a man named Drew. Except, he wasn’t really a hunk in the way of body builders or football players. Nothing she’d felt through his shirts made her think of tight knots of corded muscles. Instead, his pecs offered a smooth, tantalizing image of lean muscles honed just enough to be strong without being bulky. She dreamed each night of his arms holding her against his bare skin. She wondered if he had a sprinkling of hair or none at all. She marveled that she knew someone intimately, but had yet to see more than his cock undressed.
Ah, Drew, she mused as she waited on the front porch of Bill and Teresa’s house. She had the perfect man within her grasp. If she could only convince Teresa of that. And, if she couldn’t, that would be the end of any close relationship with her sister.
Teresa jerked open the front door. “There’s where you disappeared to. I need your help.”
“I’d rather wait out here.” No more errand girl, Jess screamed inside. “Everything is done. The shrimp cocktail is chilled. You marinated the steak earlier. Table is set. What could you possibly need?”
“A calming influence.”
Jess snickered. “You won’t get that from me. Try Bill, or just sit on the porch. That will do more good than me trying to be nice.”
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