Page 6 of The House on Prytania
I shook my head, then placed my phone in my back pocket. “No problem. Just... stuff.”
The pungent scent of pipe tobacco drifted past us, too heavy to ignore.
“We need to talk,” Beau said.
For someone who was attempting not to cause any drama while she focused on her new job and restored her Creole cottage, I had a lot of people who seemed eager to talk to me. “Okay,” I said slowly.
“Mimi wanted me to invite you and Jolene to dinner on Friday night to really meet Sunny. We figured you’d have questions. And we thought you might want to know each other better, considering we’ll all be working together at some point.”
“Sure. Just let me know the time and I’ll tell Jolene. Is that all?” A soft exhale came from behind me, enveloping us in a veil of pipe smoke.
His gaze drifted over my head before returning to my face. “Not quite. There are a couple more things we need to discuss.”
Knowing I didn’t really have a choice, and because I had no plans for the rest of the evening, I opened the front door to the only spot in the house containing chairs. As I stepped onto the porch, I heard two sets of footsteps following me outside into the cool, crisp air.
CHAPTER 3
I settled myself into one of the two worn lawn chairs I’d found beneath the overgrown foliage in the backyard. It creaked in protest when I sat, and I wondered how much longer it would last before someone fell through the frayed plastic onto the floorboards.
Beau carefully sat in the other chair, gingerly sliding back as if testing his weight. “You should probably go ahead and get porch furniture now. These chairs are gasping their last.”
I met his gaze, wondering if he was aware that he’d read my mind. Again. It was like our brain waves were always moving in tandem, sometimes separating around rocks in their path, then meeting up again. Looking away, I said, “Yeah, well, I guess I got what I paid for.” I wiggled back and forth, making the chair squeak like hungry mice. “Jolene is already shopping around for vendors who are willing to give us a huge discount in return for being featured on our Insta and YouTube pages. She’s got over two hundred thousand followers already, so she’s got a lot of clout.”
Beau nodded. “I’m not sure if they tune in to see Thibaut and Jorge’s acrobatic and juggling acts or just to hear what comes out ofJolene’s mouth next, but the combination is gold in terms of free promo.”
The deal I’d worked out with Beau’s company, JR Properties, was that he would act as my licensed contractor for my home restoration project in return for publicity. We’d hit the jackpot by putting Jolene, who already worked for Beau, in charge of the company’s social media. As a bonus for Jolene, Jaxson was acting as our photographer and videographer. It was a hobby for him, and he and Beau were childhood friends, so it made sense. Especially because it was easy on the budget, since he was doing it for free, and because nobody else could be hired to come to the house for any amount of money.
I was beginning to take the rejection of my house by just about everybody very personally. I’d even had a loud argument with my UPS deliveryman, who never came to a complete stop but rather rolled the boxes out of his truck to land on the walkway in front of my house. No matter how many times I chased him down the street yelling for him to stop, he always pretended he couldn’t hear me.
“How did you know I was here?” I wasn’t sure why I was avoiding whatever Beau wanted to talk to me about, but experience had taught me that when someone warned you that a talk was coming instead of just telling you outright, it wasn’t going to be good.
“When my calls went straight to voice mail and you didn’t answer my texts, I called Jolene, and she told me you were still here. So I drove by and saw your bike on the porch. It’s not locked, by the way.” He leaned forward to get a better look at it. “Maybe because you decided it’s too ugly to steal.”
I watched him closely, wondering if he’d added that last bit so I wouldn’t ask if he’d been worried about me. “Very funny. I think the cute flowered basket on the front makes it almost couture. And despite appearances, the bike is completely functional. Trevor keeps it in tip-top condition. Besides, Thibaut, Jorge, and I have figured out that anything that’s been left on the porch is off-limits to thieves.Maybe the good gris-gris bags someone keeps leaving on the porch actually work.”
A coil of tobacco-scented smoke drifted around us before quickly dissipating. Beau didn’t pluck at the rubber band on his arm, which he did to fight his fear—something he’d taught me when he’d given me my own rubber band.
“You’re not afraid?” I asked softly.
He shook his head. “It’s my grandfather. I’m not afraid of him.”
“But why is he back?”
Beau took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “It’s one of the things I wanted to talk with you about.”
I shivered in my shirtsleeves. I’d been warm enough upstairs while I worked, but the evening had turned chilly, and I’d left my sweater inside. It was a cute pink and white Lilly Pulitzer cardigan that Melanie had sent to me in an attempt to elevate my look (Jolene’s words). She’d bought a matching one for Sarah, which had made me roll my eyes. At least she hadn’t bought ones for our dogs, Porgy and Bess, too—as far as I knew. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she had.
Beau slid off his jacket and held it out to me. “I don’t need it. I’m hot natured.”
I shivered again, recalling why I didn’t need him to remind me. An uncomfortable silence fell as we both became aware that he’d broken our unspoken agreement that we never mention again the night he’d spent on my sofa.
Leaning back, I said, “So, spill it.”
He thrummed his fingers on his jean-clad thighs. “Michael Hebert.”
Anger pulsed through me at the mention of his name. He’d feigned a romantic interest in me to gain access to the Ryans and the secrets his family suspected were hidden in my Creole cottage. Secrets that would reveal Michael’s great-grandfather’s guilt in the murder of Michael’s grandaunt, Jeanne Broussard, which was also connected to Sunny’s disappearance. It would have been easier to forgive Michael for being unwilling to resist the pressure from hispowerful family if only I hadn’t fallen so completely for him. I still felt the bruise around my heart every time I thought about him.
I looked at Beau, hoping to see a grin to show me he was joking. But even in the dim light, I could see the firm set of his jaw and the straight line of his mouth.
