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Authors: Lynn Emery

Tags: #romance, #new orleans, #art, #louisiana, #french quarter, #lynn emery

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BOOK: Tell Me Something Good
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Noel lifted one dark eyebrow at her. “I
understand,” he said without losing his good humor. A teasing glint
lit his gorgeous eyes. “I look forward to seeing you again soon.”
She cleared her throat. His cocky expression seemed to say, “It’s
not over, lady, VU get to you yet.” Lyrissa added a bit more ice to
her attitude. “Goodbye, Mr. St. Denis,” she said in her most formal
tone.

Noel merely nodded and left. Only when he was
several yards away did she let out a long breath. She watched his
graceful stride as he went through the glass doors and down the
sidewalk until he was out of sight. She shook her head slowly. If
only he weren’t a St. Denis, she groaned inwardly. Warning signals
clanged that she shouldn’t even think about it. After a few seconds
she realized the clanging sound was actually the phone on her desk
ringing. Her eyes still on the door, she picked up the slim
receiver.

“Hello. Yes, they’re just leaving now,” she
said. “Don’t worry. We’ll have our painting back in the next few
weeks.”

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

Noel eased his pearl white Infiniti 130 into
downtown traffic on Poydras Boulevard. His thoughts were still at
Taylor Gallery. Lyrissa Rideau had left a strong sensory
impression. He could still smell the subtle floral scent of her
cologne. Each time she’d moved, the scent floated toward him, faint
enough to tease and make him want more. Then there was the way she
moved. Her shapely legs, revealed beneath her short gray skirt,
could stop traffic. Like a camera, the image in his mind moved up
her fine figure to her face. She had smiled at him and the hairs on
his arms stood at attention. But she’d been reserved, almost
disinterested. Noel wasn’t used to that reaction from women, at
least when he noticed. The plain fact was he rarely did. Women came
to him. Few of them were re-strained about it. Maybe that was it He
simply hadn’t recognized a more modest approach. His grandmother’s
voice broke into his attempts to solve the puzzle.

“I’m surprised you’re not on your cell phone
to the office or speeding to get back there.” She gave him an
appraising glance.

“Nothing urgent going on there today,” he
reminded her, stopping at a red light.

“There’s always something urgent when you nm
a business, son. Staying one step ahead of your competition and
customers is urgent,” she said, quoting a small portion of her
usual lecture on succeeding in business.

“Yes, Miss Georgina,” Noel said, using the
name most people called her. He shrugged. “Carlton is there.”

“That doesn’t reassure me,” was her short
reply.

The light changed and Noel turned onto Camp
Street. Ahead was the twenty-story office building that housed
Tremé Corporation.

“Look, that last little problem wasn’t
entirely his fault. I should have reviewed—”

“Of course it was his fault,” she shot back.
“If he worked for any other corporation he’d be sorting mail by
now. Being my grandson is the only thing that saved his backside.”
Noel sighed. He couldn’t offer much in the way of excuses for his
stubborn cousin. Carlton managed the real estate arm of the family
business. He’d recently miscalculated the per-square-foot cost of a
large warehouse. The result was that he’d signed a two-year lease
with a packing firm that barely covered the cost of its
maintenance. “He’s working on a fix now.”

Noel turned into the parking garage next to
their building and inserted his magnetic parking card into the
slot. The long orange and white bar across the entrance rose
slowly.

His grandmother snorted indelicately. “Right.
Knowing him, he’ll alienate the client and we’ll end up with
another empty property. Do the words ‘cash flow’ mean anything to
that boy?” she said with a sigh of frustration.

“Calling him a boy doesn’t help things,
Grandmother,” Noel said with his own sigh.

“Humph! When he grows up, I’ll stop,” she
said, her tone no softer.

For the last two years Noel had been dealing
with his resentful cousin daily. The rivalry between their fathers
had extended to the next generation. At least, as far as Carlton
was concerned, it had. Uncle William, Willie to the family, still
openly fumed that Noel had been made CEO instead of Carlton. Uncle
William had been forced to retire because of health reasons. Noel’s
father, Richard, ran his own small but lucrative import business
part- time. He preferred a flexible schedule that allowed for lots
of time for golf. Tremé Corporation demanded long hours and
sacrifices. Neither appealed to him.

Noel parked his car in his reserved parking
space. He got out and went around to help his grandmother from the
car. “Don’t start with him today, all right? We have to pull
together as much as possible.”

Miss Georgina took his hand briefly as she
stood, then let go. “Give your cousin that speech. Include his
father while you’re at it.”

Noel closed the door and turned on the car
alarm. “No need. I’m sure you will,” he murmured.

“Dam right,” she snapped and marched
purposefully to the elevator.

They didn’t speak again during the ride up to
the fourteenth floor. Miss Georgina’s grim expression worried

Noel. When the elevator whisked open, they
walked through a set of glass double doors. Tremé Corporation took
up the entire floor. Dark blue carpet stretched down the hallway
that led to other hallways to offices. They turned to the main
suite and went through another set of double doors, this time of
dark oak panel.

Edwina, Noel’s secretary, smiled when they
approached her desk outside his office. “Hello, Miss Georgina. How
are you?” Eddie’s voice and smile faded when she saw the older
woman’s expression.

“Good morning,” Miss Georgina said in a curt
tone.

Noel opened the door and stepped aside to let
her enter his office first. He paused before following her. “Eddie,
please tell me we’ve got fresh coffee.”

“Going to be one of those days?” Eddie wore a
look of sympathy.

“Again,” Noel retorted.

Eddie stood. “I’m pretty sure Josephine made
a fresh pot ten minutes ago. I’ll go check in the kitchen and fill
up a pot for you. I think she brought some of her special muffins,
too.”

“Thanks.” He rubbed his midsection as he went
into his office and shut the door.

Miss Georgina eyed him. “You shouldn’t skip
breakfast and then drink a lot of strong coffee, Noel Phillip.
You’ll ruin your stomach.”

“Dealing with difficult relatives is what
will ruin my stomach,” he replied with a sideways glance at his
willful grandmother.

Miss Georgina sat down in a dark red leather
chair. “I can deal with Carlton,” she said with a wave of her
hand.

Noel sat down at his desk. “Yeah right,
Carlton.”

“More important, what are you going to do to
raise capital?” Miss Georgina fixed him with a steady gaze that
sent lesser souls fleeing.

“Eddie is typing up a draft proposal right
now. Naturally Carlton isn’t pleased about possibly selling even
one piece of art. And I’m sure Uncle Willie knows every detail by
now.” Noel rocked back in his captain-style chair. “But they’re not
the only ones who will howl about the collection.”

“I own the St. Denis collection, and they
darn well know it,” Miss Georgina said imperiously.

“It’s almost a family legacy, Grandmother.
Especially the way Great-grandfather’s will read.”

Miss Georgina scowled as though ready to do
battle. “He left it to your grandfather to administer as he saw
fit. Our lawyer assures me that’s as good as ownership.”

Noel nodded slowly. He doubted even his
thunderous Uncle Laurence would want to tangle with an angry
Georgina St. Denis. “We’ll need to raise at least two million in
cash reserves to see us through the next three quarters—”

A knock at the door interrupted him.

Eddie came in with a tray. “Hot coffee and
banana nut muffins. I warmed them up for you.”

“You’re an angel in disguise.” Noel sprang
out of his seat and took the tray from her. He set it down on a
credenza that matched his desk.

“Thank you, dear.” Miss Georgina gave her an
endearing smile and Eddie nodded and left them alone. “Sit down,
Noel.” She shooed him back to his seat while she poured out a cup
of coffee and put a muffin on a saucer.

“Thanks, Grandmother,” he said, using the
childhood endearment.

“Now tell me more about this proposal.” Miss
Georgina placed the cup and saucer in front of him on the desk.

“I’m going to sell three warehouses and
renegotiate two leases that will be up soon.” Noel took a sip of
coffee. “Ahh, I needed that”

“Yes, dear. Now, what else?” Miss Georgina
sat down with her own cup of coffee.

“There’s a good chance we can get financing
for construction of the office park through the Louisiana Public
Facilities Authority.” He paused to nibble on his muffin.

“Of course. It will have a positive economic
impact on a blighted area of the city. Sound reasoning so far. I
can’t imagine the board not realizing it.” Miss Georgina’s brow
furrowed as she sat drinking coffee deep in thought. “You know,
I—”

“No, Grandmother,” Noel broke in before she
could finish. “You’re retired and the doctor says you should rest.
I don’t want you getting into this dogfight.”

“So you do expect trouble.” She raised a dark
eyebrow at him.

“I’m not worried. Matter of fact, don’t say
anything to Carlton. He’ll just dig his heels in even more and say
you’re playing favorites.”

“But I could help with Laurence and the
others. I’m sure the board will support you if I—”

“You don’t think I can handle it?” Noel
squinted at her over the rim of his cup.

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’ve taken hold of
this company and put it back on the right track.” Miss Georgina
leaned against the soft leather. “Willie was so stuck in the past.
I would have had to orchestrate his ouster if he hadn’t
retired.”

Noel knew she would have done it, too. His
grand-mother never flinched from tough decisions. Especially when
it came to saving the St. Denis family reputation and fortune. They
both gazed over at the large oil portrait on the opposite wall. A
younger Miss Georgina sat in a chair. Her hair then was black and
waved in the style popular in the forties. Noel’s grandfather stood
behind her, one hand on her shoulder. He was a light-skinned man
with gray eyes and thick black hair. His expression was staid, yet
there was a soft light of kindness behind it.

“Ten years and I can still hear his voice,”
Noel said quietly.

“Yes.” Miss Georgina stared at her late
husband a moment longer then turned to Noel again. “Now, back to
the present.”

“The board meets again in one month. I’ll be
more than ready by then,” Noel said in firm tone.

“In other words, butt out,” Miss Georgina
said dryly.

Noel grinned at her. “Something like
that.”

There was another knock at the door, and then
it opened. Carlton came in. He kissed Miss Georgina’s forehead.
“Hello, Grandmother. You’re looking well. Noel.” He gave Noel a
curt nod.

“Good morning, Carlton,” Noel said mildly.
“By the way, thanks for getting that report to Eddie for me.”

“I could have gotten the figures from all
four quarters if I’d had more time,” Carlton said with a tight
smile. “I’m sure the meeting would have gone better.”

Miss Georgina stopped in the act of reaching
for a muffin. “What meeting?” she asked sharply and glanced at
Noel.

Noel pushed down a spurt of irritation. “I
met with Larry Hardison about the mortgage on the Crowder Boulevard
strip mall.”

Miss Georgina put down her coffee cup. “Why?
What’s wrong with Crowder Plaza Mall?”

“The place is dying a slow death since that
Super Discount Mart opened in the new mall,” Carlton spoke up. “I
never thought we should have renovated that dinosaur.” “We’re
talking a lot of jobs, Carlton. Crowder Plaza is in a poor
neighborhood. They need that grocery store and the Dollar General.
Not to mention the beauty shop,” Noel said, repeating the same
arguments he’d used with his cousin before.

“If we lose money, then we’ll have to make a
decision to unload the least profitable assets. Crowder Plaza
certainly fits that description,” Carlton said.

“I agree with you. But I won’t make that
decision unless I have to,” Noel said with an edge to his tone.
“Meanwhile, the red ink flows,” Carlton tossed back. “The city
council is working on making that area a free enterprise zone. West
Services, Inc. is close to opening a customer service call center
nearby.”

Carlton spoke directly to Miss Georgina as
though they were alone. “Both could be months, maybe even a year or
more away, if either happens, Grandmother.”

Noel struggled not to lose his temper. He
glanced at his watch. “Aren’t you meeting with Julie and Andre in
fifteen minutes about the Algiers properties?”

His cousin faced him with a cold expression.
“Thanks for reminding me. The new tenants I signed will make the
warehouse and business park very profitable.”

“Good. See you at three for our staff
meeting.” Noel stared at him steadily.

Carlton’s frozen expression cracked into a
rigid smile. “Right,” he said, and then turned to Miss Georgina.
“I’ll see you Sunday, Grandmother.” He gave her another kiss
goodbye, looked at Noel once more, and then strolled out.

Noel slapped the arm of his chair. “Arrogant
little—”

“He has a good point about the Plaza, son,”
Miss Georgina cut in.

“I know!” Noel admitted with a sour
expression as though agreeing with Carlton hurt.

“We’re a business, not a charity,” she went
on firmly.

“Businesses have a responsibility to the
community, Grandmother.”

“The St. Denis family has done more than its
share for this parish.” She went on about the charities they
contributed to.

BOOK: Tell Me Something Good
10.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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