by Geri Krotow
“I haven’t seen Henry in person yet. I took an extra week of vacation, and I’ve decided to go back to work at the Boudreaux firm as before, here in New Orleans. I don’t have to deal with his father except once or twice a month, and it pays the bills. Plus Hudson begged me not to quit.”
“You’re kidding. That bigot doesn’t want a lawsuit, me thinks.”
“I thought that at first, too, but he sounded sincere and believe me, I see it all in the courtroom. I think the wedding fail was a huge wake-up call for the family, especially Hudson and Gloria. It’s one thing when the son who’s always been the independent one breaks ties, but when the conformist—Henry—threatens to never speak to them again, that’s reason to reevaluate your motives. Plus with their sister out of the country, it hit them hard that all of their children were gone.”
“Did Henry tell you this?”
“No. His father did, and then his mother called me. Of course with her, it’s hard to tell. She’s probably secretly thrilled that the wedding is off, for now. I think she’ll always be the kind of mother who doesn’t accept whomever her children decide to be with. She’s been calling the shots for so long in that family.” Sonja’s narrative trailed off as she fingered a length of pale cream ribbon. “They’ll feel differently when they know they’re going to be grandparents.”
“When are you going to tell Henry?” Poppy had hoped they’d been together all this time, working it out.
“I’m not sure. I’ve got a little while longer to get away with looser clothing. But I will tell him. I don’t want it to be any kind of bargaining chip in our relationship moving forward, though.”
“Phew! So you agree you belong with him?”
Sonja’s smile grew sad. “I believe he’s the love of my life. But that’s not enough for a lasting relationship. The fact that we even allowed his parents to come between us at all is a deal breaker. We’re through. It’s over.”
“What exactly did they say to you, Sonja?”
Sonja shook her head decisively. “No. This is a conversation for me and Henry. When the time’s right.”
There was more Sonja wasn’t telling her, Poppy was certain. She understood keeping some things close to the heart. “I understand, of course. But know that I’m here when you want to talk, okay?”
“Deal. Now, what about you?”
“Do you remember how I loved working with you when we came here for spring break in college? Handing out the clothes after Katrina with your church?”
“How could I forget? Do you know, I still have some of my church members asking about you. You were such a big help and you know you have a natural knack for boosting people’s spirits. They never forgot all you did.”
“Actually, I think it’s the other way around. I find nothing more exciting than the look on someone’s face after I’ve helped them narrow down their style and figure out a way to live comfortably in it.” Now she’d add affordably to that list. Why hadn’t she realized sooner that she wanted to make more of a difference in people’s day-to-day lives?
“And you’re going to do this here, with Bianca? Until you go back to New York?” Sonja acted casual but Poppy knew her best friend well enough to see the catlike observation going on.
Poppy smiled. “You’re sitting in the office for Poppy’s Do-Overs. And not only will I have this business, working with Bianca, I’ve committed to putting ten percent back into the community. Not only in dollars but in time. I’ll set up shop at the local battered women’s shelter, or have them come here, whichever they find safest and most comfortable. Yesterday I met with a single mom and her teenaged daughter. I got to help both of them pick out clothes and put outfits together. The mother is going interviewing for jobs, and the daughter is prepping to apply to college.”
“Girl, I’m so proud of you. Will you take it national as soon as you can?”
Poppy’s stomach dropped at the thought of expanding “No. An office here, only here. I don’t want any hint of a franchise business model and I want the local community to be able to trust me.”
“That’s fantastic!” Sonja gave her a quick hug. “I’m so glad. I often thought you’d be happier doing something a little more grounded.”
“I don’t know about ‘grounded.’ At least in terms of a job. I was the one who wasn’t living in reality, back at my old job. This, this feels right. As if I’ve returned to myself. That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all. So tell me, where does Brandon fit in all of this?”
Sonja’s question was clear. “I’m not doing this for a man, if that’s what you’re really asking. Brandon and I are friends. I helped him get ready for some business opportunities, and he gave me a place to stay during the flooding. Speaking of which, how’s your house?”
Sonja gave her a measured look but didn’t push her, for which Poppy was grateful. It was hard enough starting all over again with her vocation, her livelihood. Losing the man she never really had, the man who’d healed her through the worst time in her life, that was something entirely worse. And nothing she was going to discuss with anybody, even her best friend.
“It’s a mess.” Sonja’s assessment said volumes, and not just about her home.
“I wanted to go back after the storm and stay there, but the damage mitigation team still had all the fans and plastic covers up. Said the mold threat was too great for me to stay.”
“I was able to get my things. I’ve moved out, ahead of Henry returning, and rented my own place. It’s not far from here, actually. I’ll be able to walk to the firm office if I want to.”
“Sonja, I’m so sorry.”
Sonja shook her head. “Don’t be. This is all for the best.”
Poppy wasn’t so sure.
* * * *
Brandon walked with purpose to Poppy’s boutique. He knew it was called something else but to him, it would always be hers. Anything she touched was hers. Including him.
The thought should scare him, make him want to shake her off. Instead, he wanted more of Poppy with each passing day. And it wasn’t because she’d helped him prepare to win the San Sofia contract. He knew that now because, in fact, he hadn’t gotten the contract. He’d lost the big government deal.
Yet he felt like a winner, and he still wanted her. He needed Poppy in his life. But how he was going to convince her of this eluded him. He knew he had to try, though, because he’d learned enough over the past month to grasp that sometimes life didn’t give you second chances. He might have one with his family, a way to find common ground, to see if he’d misread some of what he thought had been his parents’ blatant racism. Poppy, however, was once in a lifetime. There’d be no second chances with other women.
His heart pounded as he neared the boutique. Trying to explain to Poppy why she should stay in New Orleans with him scared him more than any of the negotiations he’d been through for the contract that in the end hadn’t happened.
His cell rang and he wanted to ignore it but it was his private investigator, Stanley.
“Tell me you found Jeb.”
“I have. He’s in Asuncion, Paraguay.
“That makes no sense.” Brandon thought for a moment. “When is he coming back here? With the money?”
“He’s not, and he doesn’t have the money any longer, not in any of the accounts I could access. None of it.”
Disappointment flared into anger. He completely trusted Stanley and believed him. The retired FBI agent ran a part-time PI firm and had come highly recommended. He’d used Stanley’s services before, for background checks on clients who had shady reputations. Boats by Gus didn’t do business with crooks or drug dealers.
“Jesus. He blew through fifteen million dollars in a month?” So he’d lost it all, thanks to Jeb. And his own personal blind spot. “How did you find him? And how do you know the money’s gone?”
�
�I called in a few favors from former colleagues. I have contacts in Paraguay but no one seems to know why he’s there. Or if they did they can’t tell me.”
“So it could still be something legit.” He could give Jeb one last chance.
“You’re being naive, Brandon. I’m not your attorney but I suggest you talk to him. Better yet, report this. A man who stole from your company is not your friend, no matter what your history. Do you want to be implicated in whatever business he had in South America? We’re talking some life-altering circumstances, Brandon. Drug running at best, weapons smuggling at worst.”
“No, wait on it for now. Let me talk to my lawyer. Thanks, Stanley. I’ll get back to you.” He quickly connected to his lawyer who picked up immediately.
“Brandon.”
“I need help.” Brandon filled him in, his decision solidifying as he did.
“You’re going to report this, right?”
“That’s why I called you. Yes. And I’m going to need you with me when I file my report, to make sure Boats by Gus isn’t implicated in whatever Jeb was involved in.”
“This isn’t going to be a slam dunk. There could be charges pressed against you for being complicit to Jeb’s actions if they were illegal. You’re going to have to explain why you waited so long to report Jeb’s theft, Brandon. If he was involved in drugs or munitions you could be on the hook for funding it.”
“But you’re my witness, as is Stanley.”
“Meet me at the police station in fifteen minutes. We’ll file your report. Have your PI call it in to the FBI.”
Brandon stared at his phone after he disconnected, waiting for the shock to hit him. He was about to report Jeb, his brother in all else but blood, to the authorities. Instead of regret, determination formed into a single solid ball of steel in his gut. He’d be damned if anyone would take Boats by Gus from him or his ability to pay Poppy for her part in getting him this far.
Poppy. She deserved a man who stood up for what was his, not someone holding out hope when it was clear he’d been robbed. Poppy was right.
He stood in front of the boutique, watching Poppy’s profile as she talked with a customer. It wasn’t time yet. Giving the boutique a cursory glance, he turned away. As he walked back to his car he threw the flowers into a trashcan. He’d get her new ones later, when they had something to celebrate.
* * * *
Poppy took the call from her lawyer with trepidation. “Tell me something good, Louise.”
“The good news is that we have a court appearance in seventy-two hours.”
“That’s quick! How did you do that?”
“Well, that’s the not-so-good news. I promised you’d be here to testify.”
Poppy groaned. “I thought you said it would take months.”
“Getting your funds, yes. But scoring a slot with the judge this quickly is too much of a boon to try to move it. The judge wants both you, Will, and Tori in front of a mediator appointed by her on Friday morning, eight o’clock.” Louise’s no-nonsense tone crashed through the protective cocoon Poppy had allowed New Orleans to weave around her.
Brandon was the safest part of the cocoon and yet the most dangerous to her sanity. No, that wasn’t true. Her feelings for Brandon were what were making her crazy.
Poppy stared out the office window. It’d been a long day with no word from Brandon on how the contract bid went. A text would have been nice.
“Poppy, you still there?”
“Yes. Friday fits my schedule perfectly. It’s time for me to come home and get my affairs in order so that I can get on with my life.” She wanted to file for her new business LLC, and she needed the money that had been frozen with her former EA’s lawsuit to do so.
“So I’ll see you Friday?”
“Yes. See you Friday, Louise.”
Her phone buzzed almost immediately after she ended the call with Louise. Brandon. She inhaled deeply, hoping to keep the disappointment out of her tone. And realized with a shock that she was incredibly let down that she’d have to leave New Orleans, leave Brandon, for any length of time.
Holy fried okra.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself. I was wondering if you’ll be home for dinner tonight?” His voice was the balm she needed.
“I was going to stay late but I don’t have the energy right now.”
“You okay?”
“No. Yes. No—it’s been a long day and I haven’t had the success I’d hoped for. I knew this was going to be a long haul, the new job, but…”
“Come home now, Yankee girl.”
She ignored the many layers to the word “home” and complied. As always, Brandon got her. He knew she needed to lick her wounds. And she hadn’t even shared her legal news with him. For the first time, she keenly wished she’d met him at a different time in both their lives. A time when she had nothing to worry about but how good they were together.
At least they’d still have tonight.
* * * *
He wasn’t sure what made him do it. He stood surveying his domain, the result of most of a day’s work.
The sun was starting to set and it threw the screened-in porch into a rosy gold light, something he’d appreciated from the dock more than this room. It was chilly out here as the day’s warmth dissipated, but anticipation revved his motor and made him feel the room might be too hot for what he’d planned.
He’d made sure the space heater was good to go, and the several dozen candles he’d lit flickered in the quiet space. He’d pulled the futon he usually napped on out into a full-size bed and fitted it with satin sheets. Brandon was particularly proud of the satin sheet bit, as he’d picked them up while out and about earlier, gathering supplies for tonight’s main event.
He was going to make sure Poppy knew she could trust him. That he was her friend and confidante first, lover second.
His dick hardened at the thought of how they’d make love tonight and he had to admit, in the few minutes before she’d be home, that it was difficult to remind himself at times that he wanted to be more than her sex buddy. It wasn’t as if he was promising her anything more. But lately her expression had grown grim, less playful than when they’d first agreed she’d stay with him at his house. She said she was excited about her new job in town but her enthusiasm took a hit each time she tried to act as if she were still the big stylist she’d been in New York.
He knew that rough spot. He’d been fighting to keep the shipyard running as if fifteen million hadn’t up and disappeared in one moment, one flight to South America.
And he still hadn’t found Jeb or the money. There was nothing past his verified arrival to Paraguay, and Brandon no longer had the means to launch a private search in a foreign country.
All Brandon had left was the hope of a future job. The possibility of it. And Poppy.
The familiar tap of her leather-soled sandals on the hardwood floor echoed deep in the house behind him. Poppy was home.
* * * *
Poppy dropped her bag on the granite counter and scanned the great room for Brandon. Only when her gaze landed on the open double French doors did she realize he was on the porch. She smiled, grateful for the excuse to sit down and look at the water for the last remaining minutes of daylight. She’d change into more comfortable clothes in a bit.
As she walked through the doors she saw his silhouette against the edge of the room, his back to her.
“It’s beautiful tonight, isn’t—” Her words jammed in her throat which had tightened measurably as she took in the scene. Candles, dozens of vanilla white candles, were scattered about the room. On the window ledges, the small table tops, the wet bar that also served as a hot beverage station. The futon where she and Brandon had enjoyed many a morning coffee or afternoon cocktail was unfolded and flat, covered in shimmering linens. Linens with—wait, were those r
ose petals strewn across them? Brandon’s body turned as if in slow motion and when his eyes met hers they were glistening, his smile sure and bright. “Yes, you are beautiful tonight, Poppy.”
She clutched at her throat, her chest with her hand as she motioned with the other. “What, what is all this?”
“It’s a toast to you. To the fact that we’ve successfully cohabitated for the better part of a month without either one of us losing our shit.”
“Oh.” His expectant expression collapsed and she closed the gap with three steps, grabbed his face on either side and kissed him soundly on his lips. “Thank you. You are a wonderful man, Brandon Boudreaux.” She let her hands rest on his shoulders and noticed the crisp linen under her palms, her cheek as she rested her face against his chest. He’d dressed up for her.
But why?
“It’s a little over-the-top, isn’t it?” Hesitation and embarrassment crept into his voice.
Unwilling to lift her head from the comfort of being able to hear the vibration of his voice, she blindly reached up and placed a finger on his mouth. “No. It’s perfect.”
Normally he’d already have her finger in his mouth, sucking, making her wild with her need for him. For this she pulled back and looked at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I wanted to surprise you. I thought you could use it.”
More than he’d ever know. “I can. I do.” She stepped back and looked at the sunset, close to its climactic finale. The candlelight grew more vibrant as the dusk wove into twilight. As her gaze skimmed the room she noted a new piece of furniture.
“You have a telescope?” She’d never noticed it.
“It’s the first clear night since the storm went through. Do you realize we’ve had rain showers every day since, on and off?”
She laughed. “Yes, I do. Have you seen my hair?”
His eyes glowed with desire. His hands reached out and he combed her curls with his fingers. “I’ve seen every inch of you, Poppy.”
Awash in the familiar heat of her reaction to him, she felt a tug she hadn’t with him. Maybe not with any man. “Brandon, I…” She didn’t know what he wanted. What she was willing to give. And she still hadn’t told him she was staying in NOLA, but alone.
