Page 18 of Carnival Queen

“Don’t mind me,” smiled Pax. “Go ahead and take your calls.”

“I require privacy,” he said flatly. Pax just nodded, smirking at him.

“I’m going to warn you one time. If there is something going on here and Deanna gets hurt, I will come for you. Even if you were in another state when it happens, I will assume you were a part of it, and I will hunt you down. Clear?”

“I’m ready, Pax,” said Deanna from behind him.

“Me too,” he smiled. “Very, very ready.”

As Pax put Deanna’s bags in the trunk, his brother signed for him to look up at the windows. Standing at his office window on the third floor, Bill Barnham was speaking to someone on the phone, staring at them as they got ready to leave.

Pax and Brax said nothing to Deanna. She was completely distracted, looking down at her lap in the backseat of the SUV. By the time they reached her small house in Tremé, she was almost asleep, exhausted from the emotional day.

“Cute house, Dee,” smirked Pax.

“You know, Paxton, you’re the only guy who ever called me Dee and the only one I ever let call me Dee,” she smiled.

“I know. I wanted you to know it was me when I called your name,” he laughed. “I get confused with this idiot all the time.”

“You guys are totally different,” she said, shaking her head. “Brax has always been quieter, more intense. You’re the guy who’s less serious. Always joking.”

“That’s him,” laughed Brax.

“Wait. I’m not always joking,” frowned Pax. “I’m serious about a lot of things I just don’t always talk about them.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Pax. It’s just who you are. The guy with jokes and jabs, the one who never takes anything seriously. You were voted best sense of humor for senior superlatives. You’re just not serious about things. Other than the Navy, obviously.”

She went into her bedroom to pack her bags, and Brax looked at his brother with a knowing grin. They’d told him for years that he was missing out on things because he saw everything as a joke. Everything was funny to him. Nothing was serious.

“Am I always joking?” he whispered.

“Pax, it’s cool, man. I’m too serious. You’re not serious enough. You’ve been less childlike as you’ve gotten older.”

“I’m ready,” said Deanna, coming out of the bedroom. She had two large rolling bags. “I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to be there.”

“It’s good. Come on,” said Pax.

She locked the door to the cottage and then walked toward the SUV. Just as Brax was about to open her door, another SUV blocked them in the driveway. He reached behind him, hand on his weapon. Pax tapped his comms.

“We see. Team is nearby, coming toward you.”

“Can I help you?” asked Deanna.

“I believe I can help you,” said the man. “I just learned that you refused to take on my company as a client, Miss Trehorn.”

“Then I assume that you’re either Mr. Douglass or Mr. Jackson.”

“Mr. Jackson at your service,” he said with a grin. He looked her up and down, and Pax stepped in front of her, effectively blocking his view. “Boyfriend?”

“He’s a friend,” said Deanna. “Mr. Jackson, I don’t work for Mr. Barnham any longer. I work elsewhere. I’m not taking on your company. I really don’t even have a good reason other than my father refused to work for you, and that was good enough for me.”

“Your father was short-sighted and didn’t understand how much I could help his firm. I’m offering a lot of money, Miss Trehorn. I need someone who understands tax laws and the cesspool that is the IRS. Someone who has been known to find the loopholes in the tax laws and can get creative. Regular CPAs seem to cringe when I say that, but I don’t mind letting people know up front that they have to get a little crazy with our company.”

“Sounds like you have a pickle, Mr. Jackson. When someone asks for creativity and loopholes, that usually means trouble. I do have a reputation for creativity. Within the law. There are thousands of CPAs in Louisiana that can help you. I cannot.”

“You’re making a mistake, Miss Trehorn.”

“Don’t you already have Penn Carver handling your company’s business?”

---