Tell Me Something Good (9 page)

Noel took a deep steadying breath. He was
making a fool of himself. “Sure, sure. Just don’t expose all the
family skeletons to the world.”

“And have to face your grandmother? Shelton
Taylor doesn’t pay me enough,” she said with an amused
expression.

“I have a feeling you could hold your own.”
Noel smiled “I’m not willing to test that particular theory.
Beside: you’ve only known me a few days.”

“I can already tell just from watching you,”
Noel replied. “So you’ve got your eye on me, huh? Sounds like
you’re suspicious like your grandmother.” Lyrissa tilted her head
to one side. A tendril of hair brushed her cheek, and she tucked it
back in place.

Noel watched the movement, wishing he’d been
the one to comb his fingers in her hair. He cleared his throat and
looked away. “I just meant...”

“It’s okay. I’m used to scrutiny. After all,
we’re dealing with valuable family heirlooms.” She smiled at him.
“You should be cautious. Anyway, I’m trying not to get Mrs. St.
Denis too irritated with me.”

“A good idea. No sense grabbing a tigress by
the tail.” Lyrissa laughed and the musical sound rippled over him
like a refreshing summer shower. He enjoyed the way her eyes lit up
when she was amused. The intimacy of their shared joke was
intoxicating. He moved closer again. Her delicate floral scent
pulled at him.

“Cashmere Bouquet body powder.” He inhaled
deeply. “I haven’t smelled that in years. I didn’t know they still
made it”

“Are you saying I’m out of date?” Lyrissa
raised an eyebrow.

“No way. It reminds me of my first love.
Shana Travis was the belle of St. Francis Nursery School.” Noel
laughed. “So why didn’t you marry that wonderful little diva?” “She
tossed me aside like a dirty diaper. A pint-sized player turned her
head.” Noel affected a pained expression and placed a hand over his
heart

“Silly girl, to let a St. Denis slip from her
fingers.” Lyrissa stared at him with an inscrutable expression. “Of
course, Travis isn’t a name in the Creole social register.” Noel’s
gut tightened. He’d learned early about who was and wasn’t
acceptable to his family. His battles about choosing his friends,
male and female, had begun early. He remembered Rasheeka, a
beautiful little girl the color of teakwood. Lyrissa had hit a
tender spot. His smile stretched his face tight

“At four it wasn’t exactly a tragic love
story.” He pushed away the memory.

Richard walked up. “Well, good morning. Noel,
intro-duce us.”

“Lyrissa Rideau, this is my father, Richard
St. Denis Lyrissa is with Taylor Gallery.” Noel took a step back as
hi: father reached out and took Lyrissa’s hand.

“It’s wonderful to meet you.” Richard made
the simple statement sound like a grand compliment.

“Hello. Nice meeting you, too,” Lyrissa said.
She glanced between them but said no more.

“I know, we look more like brothers than
father and son,” Noel said blandly. He waited for Lyrissa to fall
for the legendary Richard St. Denis charm.

“You’re taller,” she replied. Her eyes
widened. “I didn’t’ mean—what I’m saying is—”

Richard blinked as though he’d been thumped
on the forehead, but quickly rallied. He cleared his throat. “No
no, dear. Think nothing of it. So Noel has made an impression.”

“You could say that,” Lyrissa tossed back
with a sideways glance at Noel.

Noel gazed at her expecting to see a
flirtatious sparkle in her brown eyes. Instead he sensed dislike,
even con tempt, underlying her reply. He was puzzled. It had never
been difficult for him to get female attention. In fact, it was
often a downright nuisance. Lyrissa seemed under whelmed by his
charm. Strange and intriguing, h thought. Normally he would have
been relieved. Instead desire to pursue her sent a prickle of heat
down his back

“If you’ll excuse me, I should get back to
work.” Lyrissa wore a cool smile that was not aimed at either of
them. She went upstairs and disappeared unceremoniously.

“Lucky you,” Richard said with a wink.

Noel headed back to the breakfast room. “I
don’t know what you mean.”

Richard followed close behind. “Most of those
academic types are twice as old and ten times uglier. You’ve got
one luscious female right under foot.”

“She’s a professional here to do a job, Dad.”
Noel tried to block the image of her hips swaying as she walked. He
failed. That bothersome heat wave came back.

“Whatever, the point is, you hit the jackpot.
Use it to your advantage. You’ve got art, she’s into art.”

“You’ve got a dirty mind, Dad,” Noel
said.

“Then you got it honest.” Richard grabbed his
arm and stopped him. “I watched you watch her, son. I know that
look”

Noel did something he hadn’t done since he
was twelve when asked about a girl. He blushed and tugged at his
shirt collar. “What look?”

“You’re hot for Ms. Rideau, and I don’t blame
you one bit. Go for it, boy!” Richard slapped his shoulder.

“Cut it out,” Noel grumbled. “I don’t try to
jump every beautiful woman in sight.”

“You have an appreciation for the finer
things in life. It’s in your blood. Especially when it comes to
women.” Richard sighed with satisfaction.

Noel shrugged. “She’s attractive, but—”

“You said beautiful.” Richard grinned at
him.

“The point is I don’t spend my days chasing
women. Not when the company is in such a sad state.”

“You inherited your mother’s skill at
criticizing me in a most concise way.” Richard scowled and went
back to the breakfast room. Noel reluctantly followed.

“I was wondering where you both went for so
long.” Miss Georgina wore reading glasses as she scanned a section
of the Times Picayune.

“I met Ms. Rideau. Lovely young thing.”
Richard settled back in his chair at the table.

Miss Georgina looked at him sharply. “Stay
away from her.”

“Relax, Mother. She didn’t warm up to me.”
Richard poured more coffee into his cup from a ceramic pot.

“I’m not worried about that,” Miss Georgina
shot at him. “She’s not interested in an aging Casanova.”

“Wait a minute!” Richard was the picture of
wounded male pride.

“She’d cut you down to size, then quit. It
would be fun to watch. But we’d lose time finding another
appraiser.” Miss Georgina went back to reading.

“You underestimate me, Mother. But it’s a
moot point.” Richard grinned at Noel. “I wouldn’t stand in the way
of my own son.”

Miss Georgina dropped the newspaper and
stared at Noel. “What is he talking about, Noel?”

“Nothing,” Noel put in quickly. “As usual,
Dad has an overactive imagination.” He could have added that
Richard also had an overactive libido.

“If you say so.” Richard let a lift of one
dark eyebrow punctuate his statement.

“I hope you’re not going to be such a fool,
Noel Phillip.” Miss Georgina frowned at him.

Irritation made the hair on Noel’s neck stand
up. “I can make my own choices.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Miss Georgina tossed
her linen napkin on the table.

Noel let out a long sigh of exasperation.
“Why the hell are we even discussing this?”

“Watch your language, young man,” Miss
Georgina warned.

“I’m sorry.” Noel waved a hand in the air.
“Look, there is nothing, I mean nothing going on between Lyrissa
and me.” He gave his father a stony look that only brought a
careless shrug.

“I should hope not.” Miss Georgina appeared
satisfied with his declaration.

Noel was now irritated for another reason.
His grand-mother and parents held onto the old prejudices about
social station. They had always tried to control his choice of
friends and romantic interests. He knew well what his grandmother’s
simple response meant. Still, he did not want to bring up an old
battle. Older and wiser, he pushed back the urge to return
fire.

“My full attention is on the company,” Noel
said in a tight voice.

He tried to convince himself more than his
grand-mother. Falling for Lyrissa—or anyone—wasn’t in his five-
year plan. Falling in love wasn’t smart at all. Flirting, yes. A
hot, short, and sweet love affair, definitely. Love—hell, no. Then
the memory of her perfume came back with a vengeance.

“Exactly. Which is where yours should have
been for the past ten years, Richard.” Miss Georgina did a precise
pivot to focus her criticism on her son. “If you hadn’t left Tremé
Corporation to traipse off—”

Richard puffed out his chest. “I’m one of the
best amateur golfers in my group.”

“Traveling all over the countryside to hit a
little white ball isn’t something to brag about.” Miss Georgina
glared at him. “You wouldn’t be so smug if that fat trust fund
dried up.”

“What does that mean?” Richard glanced
anxiously at Noel, then his mother.

“Most of it comes from company value, and
that value is dropping like a rock,” Miss Georgina said in a low
yet sharp tone.

“Hold on,” Noel broke in. “Grandmother,
things aren’t quite that bad. Profits have leveled off and I see
evidence of a slide downward. But we haven’t reached a critical
point.”

“Yet,” Miss Georgina said. “I’m old, not
stupid. We haven’t kept pace with the competition. Willie
stubbornly resisted changes to our marketing strategy for five
years. He completely missed the mark on taking advantage of the
Internet.”

“What?” Richard looked at his mother as
though she were from another planet. “How do you know all
this?”

“I read the annual company reports, the Times
Picayune business section, and the Wall Street Journal. So should
you.” Miss Georgina gazed at her son.

“Profits are rising,” Noel said. “With hard
work and the right strategy, Tremé Corporation will survive.”

Miss Georgina looked out the window at the
flowers blooming in an explosion of color. “Your grandfather
literally worked to death for that place. He did it for his
children.”

“You would have made a dynamite CEO,
Grand-mother,” Noel said. “Grandfather didn’t mind telling
every-one you helped make the company as much as he did.”

Raymond and Georgina St. Denis were married
for al-most fifty years. For all his hard edges, Noel would give
anything to find that kind of partnership with a woman.

Yet watching his parents had bred skepticism.
Lyrissa’s crystal clear laugh echoed in a corner of his mind. His
grandmother’s voice brought him back.

“But we’re talking about the present. More
important, I’m talking about the future.”

“And as usual, blaming me,” Richard said, a
note of complaint in his voice. “Willie ran the company, for God’s
sake.”

“Exactly. Where were you? You’ve never lived
up to your potential,” Miss Georgina said.

“I’ve been hearing that since I was ten years
old.”

“It’s still true.” Miss Georgina poked his
forearm with a finger. “You and Willie would have balanced each
other well. He’s too rigid, and frankly, not a people person.” “She
means most people detest him.” Richard chuckled. “While you spend
too much time charming people and not enough working.” Miss
Georgina pressed on.

“I’m not interested in real estate or
insurance.” Richard waved a piece of toast in the air. “I was bored
out of my mind at that office.”

“There you have it,” Miss Georgina said
dryly. “A childish need to be amused every day.”

“Just because I didn’t find actuary stats and
collecting rent exhilarating—”

Noel intervened to head off the same argument
he’d been witnessing since childhood. “Let’s not beat a dead
horse,” he quoted his grandfather.

Miss Georgina glared at Richard for a few
seconds more, then nodded and looked out the window again. Richard
tapped a teaspoon on the side of his coffee cup. Noel hated being a
referee, but increasingly he found himself in that role.

“Dad was very unhappy at the company. It was
bound to affect his performance as a manager.” Noel did not flinch
when his grandmother squinted at him.

“An understatement of monumental
proportions,” Richard cut in.

“Uncle Willie did a lot for the company. The
employees respect him a great deal,” Noel added, frowning at his
father.

“Of course they do,” Miss Georgina said.

“I have a ‘but’ to add, Grandmother.” Noel
sat back against the chair cushion. “He doesn’t accept suggestions
easily. Uncle Willie gets insulted easily and considers input a
criticism of his leadership.”

“Ha!” Richard mimicked Miss Georgina. “What
did I say?”

“Will you two stop?” Noel glanced between
them. He felt like a school principal between two angry
children.

“You’re right,” Miss Georgina said. “The
question is what do we do now?”

“I’m considering several options. But we need
to move fast, before we lose the confidence of our creditors,” Noel
said.

“What do you have in mind?” Richard leaned
toward him.

“Raising capital would help. I’m looking at
several properties we can sell. One of the warehouses in Chalmette,
for instance.”

“Good idea, Noel,” Richard said. “It’s in a
prime area and almost half empty.” He smiled at the surprised look
his mother gave him. “Yes, Mother, I do keep up with some aspects
of the company.”

“There’s one more thing. Our family art
collection is probably worth quite a bit. Of course, with it spread
out all over the place, who knows?”

Miss Georgina’s mild expression of approval
changed into a frown. “I thought you only wanted to use its value
to raise the value of the company and attract venture capital. If
we sell the collection, you’ll have the entire city thinking we’re
in the poorhouse!”

“Mother is right, son. That kind of thing
carries the stench of desperation. Talk about spooking our
creditors.” Richard shook his head with vigor. “Besides, it’s the
St. Denis and Rohas family legacy, for God’s sake!”