FromInternationalBestsellingAuthorKatieGraykowskicomesalovestoryaboutfate,fame,and

football.

CocoRobbinshasspentthelastfifteenyearsfallingoutoflovewithSethCharming.Whatstarted

outasaschoolgirlcrush,grewintoafull-fledgedfantasy.Toobad,hehadnoideasheevenexisted.Now
asanorthopedicsurgeonwho’sspentthelastfouryearsworkingwithDoctorsWithoutBorders,sheran
halfwayaroundtheworldtogetawayfromSethonlytofindherselfrightbackwhereshestarted.

SethCharmingisthequarterbackoftheSuperBowlwinningTexasLoneStars.Hehastheworldat

his feet, several women at his side, and all the fame and fortune he could ever want. Only something’s
missing.Hewantsafamily.Unfortunately,hehasyettomeettherightwoman.

WhenCocoRobbinsstrollsbackintoSeth’slife,heknowsimmediatelythatshe’stheonehe’sbeen

waitingfor…onlynowhehastoconvinceherthatshe’sinlovewithhim.

FansofSusanElizabethPhillipsandRachelGibsonwon’twanttomissthisstoryfulloflaughter,

love,andfootball.

OtherBooksByKatieGraykowski

TheMarilynsSeries

PlaceYourBets

GettingLucky

TheLoneStarsSeries

PTOMurderClubSeries

RestinPieces

TexasRoseRanchSeries

TexasRoseForever

FortWorthWranger’sNovels

LyricandLingerie

HarmonyandHighHeels

SorryCharlie

KatieGraykowski

Formattingby

AnessaBooks

Nopartofthisworkmaybereproducedinanyfashionwithouttheexpress,writtenconsentofthe

copyrightholder.

SorryCharlieisaworkoffiction.Allcharactersportrayedhereinarefictitiousandarenotbased

onanyrealpersonslivingordead

FortherealCharlie—bestfriend,partnerincrime,keeperofsecrets—

I’msogladIranoveryouwithmybicycle.

Prologue

Eighteenmonthsago

CharlieGuidryneededchocolate…lotsofit.Ahot-fudgesundaewouldwork…ormaybeapounderbag
ofPeanutM&M’s?Heck,atthispointshe’deventakethosecrappychocolatepumpkinsthateverykidin
AmericaletrotatthebottomoftheirHalloweencandystash.Thiswasanemergency.Herlifehadhit9-
1-1crisismode.

Sheglancedattheweddingdresshangingonthebackofthedressing-roomdoor.VeraWangherself

hadsupervisedthegown’sdesignandconstruction.

Itwasperfect.
Itwasbeautiful.
Itwasalifesentence.

Asachild,whenCharliehadimaginedgettingmarried,ithadbeenasmallaffairoutside,maybeon

a beach, with only a handful of people looking on. Not the four hundred people crammed into New
Orleans’sgranddame,St.LouisCathedral,waitingontheothersideofthatdoorforhertostrolldownthe
aisle.

Asoftknocksoundedatthedoor.

“Letusin.It’sjustLuckyandme.”Itwasherbestfriends,BettsMonroeandLuckyStrickland.
ThetriohadmettheirfreshmanyearinhighschoolwhentheyhadalldressedasMarilynMonroe

fortheHalloweendance.They’dbeentheMarilynseversince.LuckyandBettshadevengottenmarried
intheirwhiteMarilyndresses.

CharliehadfoughthardtowearherMarilynwhitestoo,butJeromeBreaux—Charlie’shusbandto

be—hadthoughtthatwouldbetootackyforhisfuturewife.Heshouldknowtacky.Heworehisthinning
redhairpiledhighinapompadour,andhistrademarkwhitesuitmadehimlooklikeFoghornLeghorn.

Charlieunlockedthedoorandopeneditforthem.
BettsandLucky,bothwearingbuttercup-yellowbridesmaiddresses,steppedintotheroom.Lucky

closedandlockedthedoorafterthem.

“Are you feeling okay?” She watched Charlie very carefully. “You look a little green around the

gills.” She sat down next to Charlie on the couch. “Please tell me you have the stomach flu or
consumptionorhoof-and-mouthdiseasesowecancallthiswholethingoff.”

Betts sat on Charlie’s other side. “You don’t need to do a thing. Just give us the word and we’ll

takecareofeverything.”

“Buthe’sDaddy’slargestcampaigncontributor.Daddy’stermasgovernorisupintwoyears.He

needsJerome.”Charliecouldhearthewhineinhervoice,butshewaspowerlesstostopit.Peoplecould
sayalotabouther,butshewasn’tawhiner.Oratleast,shehadn’tbeenbeforenow.

“ThenhecanmarryJerome.”BettscrossedherarmsandlookeddownhernoseatCharlie.“He’d

definitelygetthegayvote.”

“I have to marry him. It’s the only thing my father has ever asked of me.” For the first time in

Charlie’slife,herfatherwashappywithsomethingshe’ddone.Shecravedhisloveevenmorethanshe

cravedchocolate.

“Icallbullshitonthatone.”MamaCherie,Betts’swell-meaningbutbat-shit-crazymother,popped

herheadthroughtheopenwindowatthebackoftheroom.Shehoistedaleg—completewithsilver,six-
inchhookerheel—overthewindowsill,followedbyabuttercup-yellow-cladbodyandthenanotherleg.
Shelandedsquarelyonherfeet.

“I don’t remember Charlie asking you to be a bridesmaid.” Betts sighed like the full weight of

havingacrazymotherhadsettledonhershoulders.

“Itwasanoversight,I’msure.”Mamastraightenedherdress.“Ihadthisonemadejustintime.”

While the bridesmaid dresses that Charlie and Nina—Jerome’s handpicked wedding planner and

Hitler’seviltwinsister—hadpickedoutwerethesamecolorasMama’s,thatwaswherethesimilarity
stopped.Mama’sdresswasskintight,cutalmostdowntohernavel,andendedabouttwoinchesbelow
herbutt.Itshowcasedherlackoffoundationgarments.Unfortunately,hernippleswereabitfarthersouth
thantheyshouldbe.

Bettsopenedhermouthandthenshutitagain.Charlieknewhowshefelt.Mamainspiredlossof

speechinmany.

Lucky patted Charlie’s leg. “Think of it like this, if you marry Jerome we’ll be forced to hire

someonetokillhim—”

“I know a guy who’ll do it for a carton of smokes and two jars of my homemade Ponchatoula-

strawberry preserves.” Mama held up her hand and waved it around like the teacher’s pet she clearly
hadn’tbeen.

“Good,recruitmentisdone.”Bettsclearlywantedtosaymore,butreally,whatelsecouldshesay?

“Soafterwegetcaught—becausecomeon,howgoodcouldaguywhoonlywantscigarettesand

preservesbe?—Betts,Mama,andIwillgetthedeathpenalty.”LuckylookedCharliestraightintheeye.
“Doyoureallywanttoberesponsibleforyourbestfriendsgettingtheneedle?”

“She has a point.” Mama pulled up a chair next to Charlie and plopped down in it. “I can rock

prison-jumpsuitorange,butthinkofBettsandLucky.”Herfacescrewedup.“WithBetts’sredhairand
Lucky’sskintone,thatorangeisgoingtowashthemoutalmostasbadlyasthesedresses.”

Charliegrabbedontothatlogiclikealifeline.“Whatifthehiredgundoesn’tcompletethejobbut

y’allgetcaughtanyway?I’llstillbemarried,butI’llhavelostmybestfriends.”

“Exactly.”Bettsstoodandopenedthehugebagshe’dleftonthetablewhenshe’dgottentherethat

morning.ShepulledoutabagofOreosandbroughtitover.

LuckyrippedthebagopenandofferedOreostoCharlie.“Formedicinalpurposesonly.”
Charlie grabbed a handful and shoved them into her mouth. Chocolate cookie and vanilla cream

swirled around her mouth, and the chocolate-loving endorphins in her brain released all sorts of happy
chemicalsintoherbloodstream.Intellectually,sheknewthatchocolatedidn’ttakeherproblemsawayand
thatitonlycreatednewones,butdamn,itsuretastedgoodgoingdown.

“So, am I going to walk down that aisle and make an announcement?” Betts arched an eyebrow,

waitingfortheanswer.

Charlie chewed very slowly. It was procrastination by mastication. In her heart, she knew what

neededtobedone.Sheswallowedthemouthfulandthelumpinherthroat.“Yes.Ican’tdothis.”

“Okay,girls,ActionPlanDeltaisago.”MamaCheriepulledasmartphoneoutofhercleavageand

touchedthescreen.“ActionPlanDeltaisago.Repeat,ActionPlanDeltaisago.”

LuckyleanedpastCharlieandstaged-whisperedclosetoBetts’sear,“Whatthehellisshetalking

about?”

Bettsshrugged.“Noidea.I’mnotresponsibleforher.”

“The car is around back.” It was Will Brodie, Lucky’s husband, at the window. “I pulled up as

closetothedressing-roomwindowaspossible.“Gabe’sdistractingthepress.Now’sthetime.”

BettsandLuckypulledCharlieupandstartedshovingheroutthewindow.“But…whataboutmy

father?”

“You leave Thaddeus T. Guidry to me.” Mama leaned over and readjusted her boobs. “I’ve got

this.”

Bettsblanched.“Sorry,Ijustthrewupalittleinmymouth.”
Charliewashalfwayoutthewindow.“Howlonghavey’allbeenplanningthis?”

“Sincethedayyouallowedapompousidiottoputaringonyourfinger.”LuckygrabbedCharlie’s

armsandloweredherdownandtheneasedoutthewindowafterher.

“Who’sgoingtocallthingsoff?”Charliewasrunningonsugarandadrenaline.

LuckyturnedtohelpBettsclimbthroughthewindow.“Mamasaidshe’sgotitcovered.We’reall

goingtomyhouseinLongBayonProvidenciales.Thepresswon’tbeabletofindusthere.Iftheydo,
Betts’sheadofsecurity,Bump,hasseveralplanstomakethemsuffer.Plus,TurksandCaicosisn’tpress
friendly.Wearegoingonamuch-neededgirls-onlyvacation.Thehusbandsarekidwatching.”

Charliehadneverlovedthesewomenmore.
“I want to go on record as saying that this dress is horrible.” Betts picked up a handful of fluffy

yellowskirtandwaggleditatCharlie.“Friendsdon’tletfriendswearuglybridesmaid’sdresses.”

“Sorry,thatwasallNina.Ifoughthardforsomethingthatwouldhavecomplementedbothofyou,

butJeromelikesyellow.”Herlipsformedasnarl.Whatintheholyhellhadshebeenthinking?

Luckyone-arm-huggedCharlie.“Friendsdon’tletfriendsmarrypompousidiots.”
“We need to put that one on a T-shirt.” Betts opened the passenger door of Will’s Maserati for

Charlie.CharlieslidinandBettsfollowedher.Luckytookthefrontpassengerseat.

Twentyminuteslater,theypulleduptoNewOrleans’sLakefrontAirport.Nodoubtreportersand

photographerswouldbecombingLouisArmstrongforher.BettsandLuckyhadthoughtofeverything.

“Turks and Caicos… I can use some fun in the sun right about now.” Charlie put a hand to her

nervous stomach. It felt like sumo wrestlers were battling to the death inside her gut. Or it might have
been the Oreos, the chocolate milk, and the pint of Chocolate Chocolate Chip ice cream she’d wolfed
downonthewayover.Iftheconveniencestoreclerkwho’dsoldCharliethesnackshadthoughtitwas
oddthatshewaswearinggrayslacks,aredblouse,andawhiteweddingveil,hehadn’tletitshow.Then
again,hemannedastorerightoffofInterstate90soheprobablysawallsortsofthings.

SheturnedherbacktoBetts.“Canyouhelpmegettheveiloff?”
Bettsyankedandtugged.“Whatdidtheyattachthiswith…superglue?Lucky,help.”
Luckyreachedovertheseat.“Whyisyourhairsotall?YoulooklikeMarieAntoinette.”

“It’snotthatbig.”Charliefeltlikeabobbleheadonthedashofacarwhosesuspensionwasshot.
“Honey,I’macountrymusicstar,Iknowbighair.This,”BettspattedCharlie’shair,“wouldscare

evenDollyParton.”

“Jeromelikestallhair.”Howcouldshehaveeverthoughtshecouldmarryamanlikehim?
“Iwouldsaylethimhavethetallhair,buthealreadydoeshavesomeprettybighair.”Bettstugged

andtugged.“Finally.”

Theveildroppedtotheseat.
“Here.”LuckynudgedCharlie’sshoulder.“Taketheseforyourcollection.”

Charlieturnedaroundandstaredatthedoublefistfulofbobbypins.“Whatdoyoumean?Idon’t

collectthose.”

“Yes,butyoualwayshavesomeonhand.Inallofthoselittlepocketssownintoallofyourlittle

businesssuits.”LuckydroppedthebobbypinsintoCharlie’scuppedhands.

Charlie dropped them onto the seat and felt around for a pocket to put them in, only she wasn’t

wearingasuit,justablouse.Maybesheneededtochangemorethanjustherfiancé.“I’mturningovera
newleaf.Nomorelittlepockets.”

“Yeah,I’llbelievethatwhenIseeit.”Luckyrolledhereyes.“Youliveforyourlittlepockets.”
“Wellthatjustsuckstohellandback.”Betts’sfacescrewedup.“WhereelseamIgoingtogeta

needleandthreadwhenIneedone?NooneelseIknowalwayshasoneofthoselittlesewingkitsonhand
justwaitingformetopopabutton.”

“Or those itty-bitty lint rollers or those tiny bottles of hairspray.” Lucky propped her chin on the

headrest.“Youneverknow.ImightleaveBrodiehereforJerome.Ilikeamanwithtallhair.”

Willtossedhisheadlikeamodelinashampoocommercial.“Justgivemeachance.IbetIcanout

high-hairJerome.”

Luckyranherfingersthroughherhusband’shair.“Iloveamanwholikestoplease.”
“Iloveawomanwholikespleasureasmuchasyoudo.”Brodiekissedhersquareonthemouth.

“Whenyougetback,I’mgoingtoinspectyourtanlinesupcloseandpersonal.”

“I’mcountingonit.”LuckyslidherhandupBrodie’schest,grabbedhiscollar,andpulledhiminto

her.

“Hey,keepitPG-13.We’reinthebackseat.”BettsslappedLucky’sheadrest.“Comeon,Charlie,

weneedtogetgoingbeforetheystartremovingeachother’sclothes.”

“I’m coming. Don’t get your panties in a wad.” Lucky kissed her husband one last time and then

openedherdoor.

Charliepulledhersmartphoneoutofherbackpocketandcalled,“Grouppic.”

On what should have been the worst day of her life, being with her soul sisters made it better…

maybeevenmadeitokay.“I’mluckytohaveyoutwoinmylife.”

“Yesyouare,anddon’tyouforgetit.”Bettssquishedincloseforthegrouppic.

LuckydidthesameontheothersideofCharlie.“Youcouldn’tgetridofusifyoutried.”

Chapter1

CharliepickeduptheframedgrouppictureoftheMarilynsthatthey’dtakentogethereighteenmonthsago
onhershould-never-have-beenweddingday.Inthatmoment,she’dbeensohappy.Ifonlyshe’dknown
thenwhatherrecklessactionwouldsetintomotion,shemightactuallyhavemarriedJerome…maybe.

Onecornerofhermouthsnarledup.Thatwouldhavesuckedbigtime.
ShesetthepicturebackdownonherdeskandwishedshehadoneofthosegiantHershey’sbars.

Thetwo-poundkindtheyonlysoldforChristmasandValentine’sDay.Thatwouldcertainlytakethebad
taste of Jerome Breaux out of her mouth. No, what she needed was a super-extra-large mug of hot
chocolatewithwhippedcreamandmarshmallows.Oravatofhotfudgelargeenoughforhertofloatin.If
peoplethoughthotspringshadhealingpower,floatinginhotfudgewouldprobablycurecancerandmale
patternbaldness.

How much hot fudge would it take to fill her hot tub at home? Since the heater kept the water

temperatureatonehundreddegrees,woulditworkonhotfudge?

Herlaptopdingedwithanewe-mail.
Sheglancedatthetitle.Updatedpollnumbers.

Lovely.Justwhatshedidn’twanttosee.Theothercornerofhermouthcurledupinasnarl.Bad

newsthisearlyinthemorningshouldbeillegal.Herfatherwasgovernor—maybeshe’dmentionthatidea
tohim.

Sheclickedonthee-mail.

Jerome Breaux was at forty-two percent while her father had forty-four percent of the potential

votes. Her father was doing his best to hold onto the Louisiana governor’s seat, but her ex-fiancé was
doinghislevelbesttomakesurehedidn’t.Hell,Jeromehadjumpedparties.Thatalonewasproofthathe
waswillingtotakedrasticmeasurestoruinherandherfather.

If only she could go back in time… and what… marry Jerome? Never get engaged? Technically,

she’dneversaidyes.Oneminutehewasaskingherandthenextherfatherwascongratulatingheronher
engagement.

Therewasnodenyingthiswasamessofepic—evenforLouisiana—politicalproportions.Politics

was dirty everywhere, but in Louisiana it was dirtier and uglier and stranger than anywhere else. Not
sinceEdwinEdwardshadaskedeveryoneto“VotefortheCrook,It’sImportant”inhiscampaignagainst
KKKleaderDavidDukeshadtheLouisianagovernor’sracegarneredthismuchattention.

Speaking of campaign slogans, she still needed to come up with a new one. “Geaux Bobby” had

workedforBobbyJindal,butsheneededsomethingfreshandcatchy.

Hercellbuzzedwithacall.Sheglancedatthescreen.ItwasBetts.Sheclickedaccept.“Ineeda

newsloganforDaddy’scampaign.Anyideas?”

“Howabout‘Itriedtosellmydaughtertomyhighestcampaigndonor.’It’scatchyandtrue.”Betts

breathedsarcasmlikedotherpeoplebreathedoxygen.

“Kindahardtofitonabumpersticker.”
“Everyone’s a critic.” Betts thought about it for a minute. “Thinking back on other Louisiana

governor’sraces,howabout,‘VoteforThaddeusT.He’snotacrook,justadickhead.’”

“Everyone in politics is a dickhead, even the women. It would be stating the obvious.” Charlie

shookherhead.Herfriendswouldneverforgiveherfatherforchoosinghiscareeroverherhappiness.

Shelovedthemforthat.

Bettsthoughtaboutitforanotherminute.“Howabout‘LouisianaFirst’?KnowhowTexansalways

thinkofthemselvesasTexansbeforeUScitizens?”

“Sortof.”“LouisianaFirst”wasn’tbad.Ormaybe,“PutLouisianaFirst.”

“Whenwegooutofthecountryandpeopleaskwherewe’refrom,IsaytheUnitedStates,butGabe

sayshe’sfromTexas.”Betts’shusbandwasTexasbornandbred.“Iaskedhimwhyandhetoldmehe’ll
alwaysbeaTexanfirstandthenaUScitizen.HealsotoldmethatwhenTexassecedesfromtheunion,I
won’tbedeportedbecauseImarriedanativeTexan.”

“Goodtoknow.Iguess.”Charliedoodled“PutLouisianaFirst”onthepurplelegalpadshekepton

her desk. She could see the signs in her mind’s eye: white letters outlined in red with a navy-blue
backgroundforthestateasawhole,butclosetoNewOrleans,theyneededtohaveyellowfontoutlined
inpurpleonagreenbackground.

“TexansarealwaysTexasFirst,”Bettssaid.“CouldworkforLouisiana.”

“Thanks.Ilikeit.Yousavedmybutt.”Bettswasalwayssavingherbutt.Well,thatwasn’tentirely

true.BettsandLuckytookturnssavingherbutt.

“Now,ontothereasonIcalledyou.Mama’sgotitinherheadthatthePenisWrinkle—hernamefor

Jeromebecausesherefusestousehisname—isplanningsomethingreallybadtogetbackatyou.”

“Isn’thisrevengetorunagainstmyfather?”Thatwasprettybad,andthefactthattherewasagood

chancehe’dwinwasevenworse.

“Sheseemstothinksomethingworseiscoming.”Bettssighedlongandhard.Shesighedalotwhen

Mamawasinvolved.

“Is this like the time she decided she was psychic and started reading tarot cards in the French

Quarter?BecauseshetoldmeIwasgoingtomeetmyMr.RightbythetimeIwasthirty.Iwavedbye-bye
to thirty close to three years ago.” Charlie smiled to herself. Mama Cherie was special in the way that
champagnewasspecial.Alittlewaswonderful,butalotgaveyouaheadache.

“No,thismightactuallybereal.SheheardfromhersourcesthatMatthewTrudeauxmetwithsome

man at the Court of Two Sisters and they talked about you. She’s convinced he’s put a hit out on you.”
Betts didn’t sound particularly concerned about the possible threat from Trudeaux, Jerome’s campaign
managerandnewbestie.

“Shewantstomoveinwithyou.Don’tworry,Italkedheroutofit.”Bettsshuffledsomepapers.

“DidyougettheJer-gnome?”

“It’sprominentlydisplayedundermysatsumatreesinthefrontyard.”SomehowBettshadfounda

gardengnomethatlookedalotlikeJerome.“Wheredidyoufindit?”

“I’mwritingsongsformynextalbum,whichmeansIdoalotofstaringoffintospaceandInternet

shoppinginsteadofwriting.”Bettsshuffledmorepapers.“Whatdoyouthinkof‘Jer-gnome’sBallad’asa
songtitle?”

Charliewasn’tsurewhattosay.

“Yoursilencesaysitall.”ItsoundedlikeBettswaswritingsomethingdown.“Iguessalineabout

dropkickinghimintothestumpchipperoflovedoesn’treallywork.”

Again,allCharliewascapableofwassilence.
“Yeah,you’reprobablyright.”ItsoundedlikeBettswasscratchingsomethingout.“Youmightwant

to watch out for Mama. When she gets something in her head, she turns crazier than normal, especially

whenitconcernsoneofhergirls.”Betts’smotherthoughtofCharlieandLuckyhasherdaughterstoo.

Charliesmiled.Mamamightbeodd,butshelovedallofhergirls120percent.Therehadbeena

timewhenMamawasn’tthereforBetts,andshe’dspentthelastdecademakingupforit.SinceCharlie’s
mother,CherryKate,haddiedwhenshewasfive,itwasnicetohavesomeonetoloveherlikeshewasa
daughter.Godknew,ThaddiusT.wouldn’t.HetreatedCharlielikethesonhe’dneverletherforgetshe
wasn’t.

Chapter2

Wagner Scott had a name few people recognized, but everyone on the West Coast knew about him. He
wasthemanyoucalledwhenyourdaughter’snewgold-diggingboyfriendneededapayofftomoveonto
greenerpastures.Orwhenacertainman’s-manactionheroneededsomeembarrassingphotosofhislatest
tryst with a transsexual prostitute to disappear. Or when a company hip deep in government contracts
neededacertainsenatortovotetheirway.Wagnerdidwhateverwasrequiredtomakesurethingswere
handledquietlyandquickly.AndnotinaRayDonovanshoot’em-in-the-kneecapskindofway,butina
Stanfordlaw,let’s-all-be-gentlemen,find-the-dirt-and-use-it-as-leveragekindofway.

“You understand that this needs to be completely confidential, right?” Jerome Breaux stage-

whisperedfromtheothersideofhismassivedesk,whichwasclearlycompensatingforlotsofsmaller
areasinhislife.

Newclientsalwaysmadeapointofstatingthatthingsshouldbecompletelyconfidential,butitwas

unnecessary.“Ihaven’tgottenwhereIambyviolatingmyclients’trust.”

Wagnerunbuttonedhisthree-piecesuitjacketandsatacrossfromJerome.Tosomedegree,allof

his clients were arrogant, pompous jerks—otherwise they wouldn’t have needed his services—but
JeromeBreauxseemedalittlemorepompousandjerkythantheothers.SinceWagnermostlyworkedin
LosAngelesandHollywood,thatwassayingalot.

MaybeitwasJerome’scrudelycoloredredcomb-over,elaboratelyswirledontopofhisheadlike

noonecouldseethelargebaldspot,orhiswhiteColonelSanderssuit,ortherich,privilegedassholeair
abouthimthatWagnerdidn’tlike.Itdidn’tmatter.Hedidn’tneedtolikehisclienttodothejob.

“AsIwassayin’,myformerfiancéeisakeyadvisortomyopponent’scampaign.I’dlikeforyouto

takeherout.”Jerome’sfaded-browneyesgleamedatthethought.

“Ithinkyou’vebeenmisinformed.Idon’ttakepeopleout.”Really?RayDonovanwasfiction.
“Idon’tmeanKILLHER,SON.”Jerome’svoiceboomedashisfistcamedownhardonthedesk.

OutofallthethingsJeromehadsaiduptothispoint,Wagnerwouldhavechosentowhisperthatlastbit.
“Imeantakeheroutonthetown.Iwantyoutodateherandfindouthersecrets.”

ByhisownadmissionthemanacrossfromWagnerhadbeenherfiancé—shouldn’theknowallof

hersecrets?“YouwantmetogooutwithhersoIcan,what…spyforyourcampaign?”

“Yes,that’sright.Ineedtoknowwhat’sgoingonoverthere.”Jeromesmoothedoutthenonexistent

wrinkles on his white vest. He reminded Wagner of Foghorn Leghorn preening before he invaded the
henhouse.“Iwouldn’tmindalittlepayback.Sheleftmeatthealtar,youunderstand.”

“Isee.”Hedidn’t,butitdidn’tmatter.Whatmatteredwasthepaycheck.Wagnerwouldromance

thegirl,findoutsomeinformation,andonlysharethebenignbitswithJerome.Confidentialitywentboth
ways.Plus,he’dreallyhatetoseethismaninchargeofanything,muchlessanentirestate.

“Take her out on the town, make her feel special, and feed me what I need to know to win this

campaign. Her father is an idiot who…” Jerome droned on, managing to be both giving direction and
stating the obvious. Wagner appreciated multitasking, but each word that came out of Jerome’s mouth
furthercementedhimasapompousasshole.Themansuredidlovethesoundofhisownvoice.

Wagnerwaitedforabreakintheone-sidedconversationandfinallygothischance.“Iunderstand,

sir. I’ll take care of it.” He stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and held out his hand in the universal this-
meeting-is-over-so-shut-uphandshake.

JeromestaredatWagner’shandforafullminutebeforethemeaningsunkinandheshookit.
“You’llwantthis.”Jeromeslidamanilafilefolderacrossthedesk.“It’sadossierIhadmypeople

puttogetherforyou.Herfavoritecolor…youknow…thingslikethat.”

WagnerhadalreadyresearchedMs.CharlotteGuidryindetail.Heknewexactlywhatwasinthat

fileandprobablymuchmore.“Thankyou.”

Hetookthefile,turnedonhisheel,andheadedout.

TwomonthsofromanceintheBigEasywithawomanwholookedlikeasexyScarlettO’Hara…

easiestmoneyhe’devermake.Andhealreadyhadan“in.”Apparently,shelikedjazzandspentalotof
her free time at Voodoo Gumbo’s, a bar owned by her best friend Betts Monroe’s mother. At least, he
hopeditwasjazzthatbroughtherthereandnotthebooze.FromallheknewofCharlieGuidry,shedidn’t
seemlikeaheaverdrinker.TherewerenoDWIsonherrecord;infact,shedidn’thaveanarrestrecord.
Unlessshereallydidbutherfatherhadtakencareofitforher.

Twentyminuteslater,hepulledintotheprivatedrivewaythatledtotheguesthousehe’drentedfor

thenexttwomonths.Hotelroomsweretooimpersonal.Besides,thisquaintone-roomhousewasrighton
BourbonStreet—theresidentialpartlinedwith“paintedladies”pointingthewaytotheGardenDistrict.
Fromhere,VoodooGumbo’swasfiveblocksaway,andCharlie’shouseintheGardenDistrictwasthe
nexttrolleystopover.Hepulleduptotheguesthousebehindthemainhouseandturnedtheengineoff.Too
badthemainhousewassodownonherluck.IfhewerehandyandlivedinNewOrleans,he’dbuythe
paintedlady,restorehertoherformerglory,andsitoutonthewide,expansivefrontporchandwatchthe
worldgoby.

His shoulders shook with humor. He wasn’t handy, had never restored anything, and would last

aboutfiveminutesjustrockingonthefrontporch.

Still, he’d love to know this home’s story. The fussy, once-white gingerbread woodwork on the

eaves spoke of grandeur, and the wraparound porch and large courtyard must have been lovely at one
time.Nowthehousedroopedundertheburdensofageandhardtimes.

Heopenedthedoortohisguesthouse.Lastnightwhenhe’dgottenhere,he’dbeensotiredfromthe

dayofflying,he’ddonelittlemorethanfallintobed.Now—hecheckedhiswatch—hehadsometimeto
getthelayoftheland.

Afterheunpacked.
The one-room guesthouse wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. He looked around. It had to be

twelvehundredsquarefeet,withakitchenette,asmallbathroomwithaclaw-foottub,andaqueen-sized
bedoffthemainroominanalcove.Ahugeflat-screenTVwasmountedonthewallacrossfromthebed.
DirectlyinfrontoftheTVwassomesortofsofawithdaintywoodenlegsandredupholsterythatheldthe
permanentindentationsofseveralbottoms.Itwasn’ttheRitzbutitwashomey.

Hechangedfromhissuitintokhakitrousersandawhitebutton-down.Itwasabalmyeighty-two

degreesoutside,soherolleduphissleevesashelefttheguesthouseandclosedandlockedthefrontdoor
behindhim.HehadtimeforalittlesightseeingbeforehewanderedintoVoodooGumbo’sasjustanother
touristlookingforadrinkandsomegreatmusic.

Threehourslater,hewalkedintoVoodooGumbo’sandrandirectlyintoawaitresscarryingatray

fullofAbitabeerbottles.Thetraywentflyingandsodidthebeers.Onebeanedhiminthelefteye,one
explodeddownhisperfectlypressedwhiteshirt,andthelastthreeraineddownonthewaitressbefore
crashingtothefloor.

Hisarmsshotouttocatchthewomanbeforesheface-plantedathisfeet.“Iamsosorry.”
Whatelsecouldhesay?Itwasdarkinhereandhiseyeshadn’tadjustedfromallofthatsouthern

Octobersunshine.

“Noworries.”Sheblewthedarkhairoutofhereyesasshepulledatthesoakedfrontofherwhite

RickyStricklandUnitedStatesofMetourT-shirt.

“It looks like I ruined your shirt. Sorry. Ricky Strickland was a hell of a musician.” Her shirt

lookedlikeanactualtourT-shirtandnotoneofthoseremakes.Also,hecouldn’thelpbutnoticethatthe
whitecottonwasnowpracticallytransparentandshehadonaverynicepale-pinklacebra,whichwas
alsosoakedandnowsee-through.Though,tobefair,itdidn’tlooklikethebrahadstartedoutwiththat
muchfabric.“Here,letme.”

HegrabbedagoodhandfulofherT-shirtandtriedtowringitout,butshepushedhishandsaway.

“Hey,watchit.”

Hemighthaveaccidentallygrabbedalittlebitofboobtoo.Hepulledhishandsawayandstepped

back.“I’msosorry.Ididn’tmeanto—”

“Takeaseatanywhere.I’llbebackforyourorderinjustaminute.”Shebentdownandpickedup

thetrayandpiledthelargerpiecesofbrokenglassontoit.

Hebentdownandpickedupsomeglassshards.Hegentlytossedthemonthetrayandthenheldout

hishand.“I’mScottWagner.”

Havingalastnameasafirstnameandafirstnameasalastnamecameinhandy.Usingthecorrect

combinationofhisrealnameseemedlikeabadidea.

Thewaitressfingercombedthehairoutofherfaceandlookedhimstraightintheeyeassheshook

hishand.“Charlie.”

Shewasevenmorebeautifuland,well,smallerthaninthepictureshehadofher.Inthosepictures,

she’dseemeddelicatewithhercreamyskin,darkhair,anddark-chocolateeyes,butthiswaitressversion
ofCharlotteGuidrywasanythingbutdelicate.

Cometothinkofit,whywasshewaitressing?“Aren’tyou—”
“Yes,myfatheristhegovernor.Andyes,I’mherewaitressing.”Shepickedupthetrayandstood.

She set the tray on the bar, climbed onto a barstool, reached behind the bar, and came back up with a
broomandadustpan.“MindtakingaseatsoIcansweepuptheglass?”

“Oh,sure.”Hetookaseatatasmall,round,two-seatertablenexttothebar.
Thiswasn’ttheCharlieGuidryhe’dbeenexpecting.Shedidn’tappeartobeaspoiledrichgirl.He

watchedasshemadequickworkoftheglass.Maybeshewasjusteccentric?Thewealthyoftenwere.

“Mama,doyouhaveashirtIcanborrow?”Charliefinishedsweepinguptheglassandthenwrung

the beer out of her T-shirt as she leaned against the bar. An older woman with lots of bleached-blonde
hairandnotmuchofatopwasbehindthebarfillingaglasswithdraftbeer.

“I don’t know. I like the wet T-shirt look. It suits you. Maybe if you showed your nipples more,

you’dgetlaid.”Theolderblonde—hadn’tCharliecalledherMama?—pulledanotherdraftbeer.Would
thatbeBetts’smother?ThephotoshehadofMamaCheriehadshowedaredhead.

“Ipreferclothesthataren’tsee-through.”CharlieshotMamaalook.

“Somepeoplearesojudge-y.What’sthebigdealwithshowingalittlenipple?It’snotlikeevery

singlepersononearthdoesn’thavenipples.”Mamaploppedtheglassesdowninfrontoftwooldermen
sittingatthebar.“Whatdoyouthinkaboutshowingalittlenipple?”

“I’mgenerallyinfavorofit.”Themanontherightsmackedthebartopunctuatehisapproval.
“Metoo.”Hiscolleagueonthenextstoolovernodded.“Igotnothin’badtosayaboutnipples.”

“I’mgoingtocheckyourofficeforanextrashirt.”Charlieopenedtheblackdoornexttothebar

marked“employee’sonly”inwhiteletters.

“Okay,butdon’trifflethroughthatboxonmydesk.It’smylatestdesignsforcatlingerie.Itmight

makeyoublush.”MamacaughtWagnerwatchingherandwinked.“WhatcanIdoyoufor?”

“I’lltakeascotchandsoda.”Hewrungouthisownshirt.“Andatowelifyouhaveone.”
Shetossedhimawhiteragfromunderthebar.“Scotchandsodacomingup.”

“Want to tell me why the sitting governor’s daughter waits tables?” He still couldn’t believe it.

Thenagain,hedidalotofworkinHollywood,andmostofthathecouldn’tbelieveeither.

“Iliketokeepmygirlshumble.”TheblondeflippedupthebarpassandwalkedthroughtoWagner.

She held out her hand. “I’m Mama Cherie, Charlie’s very-open-minded older-sister-type surrogate
mother.”

FromtheintelhehadonBettsMonroe,itseemedhermotherwasarealcharacter.Itlookedlike

noneofthestorieswereexaggerated.

Heshookherhandandthenfinishedupswabbinghisshirt.
“What’s your interest in Charlie anyway?” Mama Cherie crossed her arms and looked down her

nose at Wagner. “Are you a reporter? I don’t allow reporters in here.” She pointed to a sign that
welcomedeveryoneexceptreporters,Baptists,andBradPitt.

WhatwaswrongwithBradPitt?
“No.DoIlooklikeareporter?”HesensedthathavingMamaCherieonhissidewasgoingtomake

thingseasierwithCharlie.Hesettheragdownonthetable.

“No,youlooklikeanattorney.”Hershrewdeyesanalyzedhimfordefects,andthescrunched-up

noseasmuchassaidshe’dfoundafew.“AnIvyLeaguer.”Sheleanedincloseandsniffedhim.“Besides
thebeer,yousmellrichandsnotty.”

Hetriedtodiscreetlysniffhimself,buttherewasnowaytodiscreetlysniffhimself.“Whatexactly

doesrichandsnottysmelllike?”

Sheleanedincloserandtookinadeepdrag.“Sandalwood,rosemary,andlavender.”
Heknewrosemarywasforcookinganddidn’tknowwhethertotakeoffenseatthesandalwoodand

lavender.

“Are you sniffing the clientele again? I thought after the last court order we agreed you’d stop.”

Charlie stepped from behind Mama Cherie. She now had on a skintight T-shirt that proclaimed her as
Santa’sFavoriteHo.

“Thisisdifferent.Heaskedmetosniffhim.”MamaCheriepulledoutasmartphoneandtappedthe

screenseveraltimes.Sheheldthephoneclosetohisfaceandappearedtobescrollingthroughpictures.
“Iknowyoufromsomewhere.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure we’ve never met. I just have one of those faces.” He glanced at

Charlieforhelp.“Issheplanningonrunningthroughallofherpicturesjusttoplaceme?”

“She’snotrunningthroughherpictures,she’srunningthroughwantedposters.”Charliegrinnedand

dimplespoppedoutonbothcheeks.“Sheclingstothehopethatsomedayshe’sgoingtofindsomeonein
thetoptenandrakeinaquickpayday.”

“Don’tforgetaboutLouie‘BigBoots’Griffin.Hewasonthemostwantedlist.”MamaCherieslid

herphonebackintoherpocket.

“HewaswantedbyRouse’sGrocerystoreforstealingshoppingcarts.Idon’tthinkthehamthey

gave you for bringing him in counts as a big payday.” Charlie pulled out an order pad and a pen. She
glancedatWagner.“WhatcanIgetyou?”

“Howaboutyourphonenumber?”Itwascheesyandoutbeforehe’deventhoughtofit.He’dnever

beencheesyinhislife.

Charlierolledhereyessofarbackinherheaditwasamazingtheydidn’tgetstuck.“Wow,that’s

original.Idon’thavetimeforthis.”Sheturnedaround.

“Wait,thatwasprettyawful.Theworstpartwasthatitjustpoppedout.Trustme,I’veneversaid

anythinglikethatinmylife.”Hewaswillingtoadmitthathe’dbeenknockedalittleoffguardbythebeer
andbyCharlie,butthiswasembarrassing.

“Healreadyorderedascotchandsoda.I’mgivinghimthegoodstuffonaccountofhesmellsrich

and snotty.” Mama Cherie grabbed the rag he’d used to sop up his shirt, passed back through the pass-
through,andslammedtheboardclosed.

Charlieleanedinandsniffedhim.“Mustbethelavender.”
He pulled his shirt up to his nose. All he smelled was beer. “Clearly, I need to cut back on the

lavender.”

“Areyouhungry?”Shereachedbehindherandgrabbedamenuoffofanemptytable.“Thespecial

ofthedayischickenstewanddirtyrice.”

“Isitgood?”Helikedtoeatclean.Whatwerethechancesthatalloftheingredientswereorganic?
“ThisisNewOrleans.Everything’sgood.”Charlieshruggedashoulder.“But,Ihavetosaythatour

chickenstewisthebestI’veeverhad.”

“Yourrecommendationisgoodenoughforme.”Hethrewherhisbestaw-shuckssmile.Itusually

workedwiththeladies.“I’lltakeit.”

“Doyoualwaystaketheadviceoftotalstrangers?”Shescribbledhisorderonhernotepad,ripped

theticketoff,andstuckitinalittleholeinthebackwallthathehopedwenttothekitchen.

“Only the pretty ones.” He clamped a hand over his mouth. What was with him? Usually he was

smoothandcharming.SincecrashingintoCharlie,he’dturnedintothatcreepyguythateveryonehoped
wouldn’tshowuptotheofficehappyhour.“I’msosorry.Usually,I’msmootherthanthat.”

“The first step in the road to recovery is admitting you have a problem.” She patted him on the

shoulder.“Goodforyou.”

Sheheadedtothebar,pickeduphisdrink,andbroughtittohistable.
Hemotionedtothechairoppositehim.Hefoughttheurgetoaskherwhatagoodgirllikeherwas

doinginaholelikethis.“Whydon’tyouhaveaseatandtellmewhyBradPittisn’tallowed.”

Charlieputherindexfingertoherlips.“Weonlyrefertohimbyhisinitials.Sayinghisnameout

loudmakesMamacrazierthannormal.”Shescannedtheroom,makingsureherothertablesdidn’tneed
anything,andsatdownacrossfromhim.

“Iheardthat.”Mamalookedupfromanewspapershehadsplayedoutonthebar.

“Is he the reason for the ‘Name of the Day’ thing on the chalkboard?” Wagner pointed to the

chalkboardbehindMama,onwhichwaswritten,“NameoftheDay.Todayhe’sa:PenisWrinkle.”

Mamapointedtotheboardlikeshewasathird-gradeteacher.“No,that’sforCharlie’sex-fiancé.

Thinkoftheboardlikeaword-of-the-daycalendar,onlyit’stodescribetheworstpersononthefaceof
theearth.Whoevercomesupwiththebestname,getsafreedrink.”

PenisWrinkledidn’tevencomeclosetodescribingJeromeBreaux.He’dhavetothinkaboutthe

rightwordfortheman.Afreedrinkwasafreedrink.

Charlielookedlikeshewantedtorollhereyesbutitwasn’tworththeeffort.Instead,sheignored

Mama.“BPisnolongerallowedatVoodooGumbo’sbecauseofwhathedidtoJenniferAniston.”

“IsMamaCheriegoodfriendswithJenniferAniston?”He’dmetMs.Anistonatimeortwo.She

wasverynice.

“No,butshetakeshercelebritygossipveryseriously.NowthatAngelinahasfiledfordivorce,BP

maybeallowedback.Idon’tknow.We’llhavetosee.”Charliewascompletelyserious.

“Jury’sstillout,”Mamacalledfromthebar.
“DidBra—um,BPspendalotoftimehere?”WagnerwasnowahundredpercentsurethatMama

waseithercrazyorreallycrazy.

“AsfarasIknow,he’sneverbeenhere.”Charliecoiledherlong,darkhairintoabunatthebackof

herheadandshovedapencilthroughit.

Hewaitedforthewholethingtocollapse,butthepencilhelditinplace.“Ididsomeworkforhim

acoupleofyearsago.He’sactuallyaprettygoodguy.”

Damn,hehadn’tmeanttogiveheranypersonalinformation.Or,well,anypersonalinformationthat

wasreal.

“Really?”Charliesatup.“Whatkindofworkdoyoudo?”
“I…um…Idostuff…andthings.”Doubledamn.Whatthehellwashedoing?He’dbeenfixing

problemsformorethanadecade.He’dromancedcountlesswomenandnowhewastongue-tied?Most
peoplewouldagreethathewasarticulate.Hell,hewasIvyLeagueeducated.

Sheproppedherchinonherfist.“Youlooklikeanattorney.Doyouhavelotsofcelebrityclients?”
Hewasanattorneyandhedidhavelotsofcelebrityclients.
“Inspiteofthelavender,I’mactuallynotanattorney.I’macontractor.”There,thatmadesense.

“Really?Areyouintownforaconference?”Thelookonherfacesaidshereallydidn’tbuythe

wholecontractorthing.

“No, I’m here remodeling an old house on Bourbon.” If he could have discreetly slapped his

forehead,hewouldhave.Rulenumberone,nevergivefactsthatcanbeverified.Hewasn’tarookie,yet
everytimeheopenedhismouthinfrontofherrookiethingscameout.

Charlie’seyesnarrowed.“Ididn’trealizetheDuplantisHousehadsold.LastIheardtheOrleans

ParishHistoricalSocietywasworkingtohaveitdeclaredanationallandmark.”

OfcoursetherewasonlyonehouseonBourboninneedofrepair.Thewayhisluckwasgoing,he

neededtojumponaplanebacktoLAasfastaspossiblebeforesomethingbizarrehappened,likeapiano
fellonhisheadorhewasabductedbyaliens.

“Ilovetheoldcreolecottagestyle.It’sclassic.”Shestoodandstretched.

Hehadnoideawhattheoldcreolecottagestylewas,buthenoddedlikehedid.
“Why don’t you come by sometime? I’m staying in the guesthouse out back.” Holy crap, had he

really just told her where to find him and invited her over? He couldn’t bring a “mark” back to his
personalspace.

Charliesmileddownathim.“Ijustmightdothat.”

Abelldinged.
“Lookslikeyourorderisup.”Sheheadedbacktothekitchen.

Thank God she’d left. He seemed to hemorrhage personal information around her like a soldier

withaheadwound.

After all of these years, he’d finally found his Kryptonite and her name was Charlie Guidry. He

shouldreturnJerome’smoneynowandheadbacktoLA.ThelastthingheneededwasKryptonite.

Chapter3

Charliebithertopliptokeepfromsmilingasshesettheplateofchickenstewoverdirtyriceinfrontof
Scott. He was an interesting mix of sophistication and crap!-I-can’t-believe-I-just-said-that-out-loud. “I
promiseyou’regoingtolikeit.”

Andthentherewerehisdeep-greeneyesandhisnicelybuiltlankybody.Hehadtobeoversixfeet

tall.Therewassomethingspecialabouttallmen.Theymadeherfeelsafe.Beingshort,shealwaysgothit
onbyshortmen.Itwasliketheyfelttenfeettallnexttoher,butshe’dvowedlongagotoneverdateaman
whoseshoesizewassmallerthanhers.

Jeromehadlittleelfishfeet.Thatshouldhavebeenherfirstcluethathewasnogoodforher,or

maybe him acting like an asshole should have been the first clue. She glanced at the word-of-the-day
board.Assholewassufficientforher,butMamalikedeverythingtobeoverthetop.Or,asshelikedto
describeherself,“overthetopless.”

CharliesetawhitebagofwarmLeidenheimer’sbreaddownnexttotheplate.“Here’ssomebread.

Iforgotthebutter,I’llberightback.”

“Don’tbother.”Hepickedupthebaglikeitwasadeadrat.“Idon’teatbread.”
“In New Orleans we’ve heard of low carb, but the concept hasn’t caught on.” She patted his

shoulder and leaned down to whisper close to his ear. “When in Rome… right? You need to butter the
breadanduseittosopupthestew.Ifyoudon’t,Mama’sgoingtoknowforsureyou’refromCalifornia.
Before she banned BP from the bar, the sign read, ‘No Reporters, No Baptists, and No Californians.’
Sinceyou’reprettytolookatandyouprobablyhaveaniceass,I’dhateforMamatothrowyououtonit.”

Athernice-asscomment,hiswholebodybrightened.
TheybothglancedatMama,whocrackedherknucklesandappearedtobewaitingforhimtodo

somethingCalifornian-likesoshecouldthrowhimout.

Charliethrewupahand.“I’mgettingthebutternow.He’sabreadlover,don’tyouworry.”
As she pulled her other hand away, he caught hold of it and whispered, “Any other things I

shouldn’tdoinherpresence?”

Charlieleanedbackdown.Shewascloseenoughtosmellhisaftershave.Thelavenderwasn’tthat

bad. It actually smelled… manly. She resisted the urge to take a big sniff. “Don’t mention vegans,
strawberry ice cream, or Axl Rose in front of her.” She shook her head. “If you do, it’ll be the longest
nightofyourlife.”

“Whataboutyourex-fiancé,shouldwenotmentionhimeither?”Scottlookedlikehewantedmore

informationbutwastryingtonotlooklikehewantedmoreinformation.

“Jerome?No,actually.Feelfreetousehisname.Mamahasn’tbannedhimfromthebaryet.Infact,

she’swaitingforhimtomakeanappearancesoshecanbeathimsenselesswithherbaseballbat.”Charlie
pointedtothepink-rhinestone-encrustedbathangingonthewallnexttotheword-of-the-dayboard.“Are
youaWalkingDeadfan?”

“Yes.”HewatchedMamaverycarefully.

“We’re pretty sure the comic book creators modeled Lucille after Mama’s baseball bat.” Charlie

wasalsoprettysurethatMamahadsleptwithoneorbothofthecreators.

“Robert and Tony—good times.” Mama laughed to herself like she was reliving a particularly

raunchymemory.

Charlie put one hand on Scott’s arm before he could ask Mama for specifics. For someone who

didn’tthinkofherselfasparticularlyhands-y,sheseemedtobetouchinghimalot.“Don’t.Trustme,you
don’twanttoknow.She’sgoesintonauseatingdetail.You’llloseyourappetite.”

“Thanks,cutiepie.”Heclosedhiseyeslikehewasprayinghehadn’tactuallysaid“cutiepie.”
“You’rewelcome,babydoll.”Shehadasoftspotforanyonewhosemouthdidn’talwaysconnect

to their brain. Once upon a time, she’d had that very same problem, but politics and Thaddeus T. had
taughthertoalwaysthinkbeforeshespoke.

Sheheadedbacktothebarandglancedattheclock.Ifsheleftnow,she’donlyhaveaboutanhour

to change and get to the Metairie Country Club for the Daughters of the Founders of the City of New
Orleansannualball.Itwasjustenoughtime.

She turned to look at Mama. “If we leave now, we can make it.” Not that Charlie minded going

alone,itwasjustthatMamawouldmakeitsomuchlivelier.

WarinesswanderedacrossMama’sface.“Whereareyoutakingmenow?”

Charlie plastered on her brightest smile and summoned her cheeriest voice. “Daughters of the

Foundersball.”

“Snore.Snore.” Mama pulledout a ragfrom under the barand wiped thebar top. “You couldn’t

paymetogowithyou.”

“Areyousure?YesterdayyoutoldJohnnySt.Charlesyou’ddoanythingforabuck.”Shewaswith

Mama—therewasnoamountofmoneyshe’dtakeforgoingtotheFoundersBallifsheweren’tmistress
ofceremonies.Oneday,shepromisedherself,shewouldonlydothethingsshelikedandonlyattendthe
thingsshewantedtoattend.Oneday,herlifewouldbeherown.She’dbeenone-daydreamingforaslong
asshecouldremember.

“Why not take Mr. Foot-in-His-Mouth-but-Can’t-Stop-Staring-at-You?” Mama nodded toward

Scott.

Charlieleanedonthebarandwhispered,“Idon’tknowhim.”

“Howbadcanhebe?”Mamastaged-whisperedback.Discretionwasn’therstrongsuit.
“Hecouldbeanaxmurderer,arapist,anIndependent,aterrorist,anenforcerforthemob,alover

ofshowtunes,someonewhohumsconstantly,apedophile,adrugaddict,someonewhowearssockswith
sandals, a serial killer, or worst of all, married.” Hell, her boyfriend before Jerome had hated Oreos.
WhatpersonintheirrightmindhatedOreos?Thatwaswhathadultimatelyendedthings.Shehadtodraw
alineinthesandsomewhere,andOreoswereit.

“He’scute.Andyouneedtogetlaid.”MamasmiledatScott.

Mama’svoicetendedtocarry.
“Subtle.Really.You’retheElvisPresleyofsubtlety.”CharliealternatelylovedMamaandwanted

tostrangleher.Nowwasoneofthosestranglingmoments.

“Takethepotentialaxmurderer.Atleasttheballwon’tbeboring.”Mamahadapoint.“Whatcould

gowrong?”

“Ax murderer, remember? I’d prefer not to be murdered by an ax or any other means.” Charlie

likedtheideaofadatebutwasn’tsureitwasworththerisk.“Plus,I’maSouthernlady.Idon’tdothe
asking.”

Mama shot her a yeah-right look. “Since when? You asked Josh Defraine to a dance in high

school.”

“And he turned me down. I’ve been scarred ever since.” Charlie looked down at her Santa’s

FavoriteHoshirt.“Ican’tbelieveIhavetowalkhomeinthisT-shirt.”

“For the record, this stew is fantastic and Josh What’s-His-Name has the IQ of a turkey club

sandwich.”Scottwipedhismouthwithapapernapkin.Hestoodandhishandsimmediatelywenttohis
waistlikehewastryingtobuttonhissuitcoat,onlyhewasn’twearingasuitsohishandsfloppeddownat
hissides.Ifhewasacontractor,shewasKimKardashian.“I’dlovetogowithyou.”

“Trustme,youdon’twanttogo.Boringisputtingitmildly.TheFoundersBallistheplacewere

fungoestodie.”Charliewasn’treadytoriskspendinganeveningwithamanshedidn’tknow.

“Really,I’dlovetogowithyou.”Hesoundedsosincere.

“It’sblacktie.”Thatwouldcertainlyputhimoff.
“Ihaveatux.”Hegrinned.Atoothonthetoprowwascrooked.Thesedaysitwashardtofinda

well-dressedmanwithoutveneersorhairplugs.

What kind of man brought a tux with him when he was supposedly in town to remodel a house?

Yep,hewasanattorney.Whylieaboutthat?

Charlieanalyzedhimforsignsofcrazy,butheseemedsonormal.
“Okay,butI’mnotgettinginacarwithyou.Wecanmeetthere.CometotheMetairieCountryClub.

Thedancestartsatseven.JustwanttogoonrecordassayingthatIwarnedyou.”Sheshookherhead.If
hewantedtoriskdeathbyboredom,whowasshetotellhimhecouldn’t?

“It’sadate.”Heseemedalittletooexcited.
Maybe,likeher,hedidn’tgetoutmuch.Orhewasaserialkillerandhewasgoingtousetheballto

cruiseforhisnextvictim.Eitherway,shewouldn’thavetobravetheballalone.

“I’llseeyouthere.”Shelaidherorderpadonthebar,tookallofthemoneyoutofherapronpocket

andputitinthegiantpicklejarturnedtipjaronthebar,andplacedtheapronnexttothepad.

Outofthecornerofhereye,shesawaPriuswithanUberplaqueinthefrontwindowpullupon

thestreetoutsidethebar.

Scott waggled his smartphone. “I got an Uber for you so you don’t have to walk home in that T-

shirt.FYI—you’remyfavoritehotoo.”Thistimeheactuallyclampedahandoverhismouth.Helooked
completelymortified.

Itwassweetandalittlegrotesque.

“ThankyoufortheUber.”Ithadbeenalongtimesinceamanhaddonesomethingthoughtfulfor

her. Maybe spending the evening with him wouldn’t be so bad. She waved at him. “I’ll see you this
evening.”

Chapter4

Twohourslater,Charliewantedtostrangleherselfwiththemicrophonecord,onlyitwascordless.“It’s
timetopresentthedemoisellesoftheDaughtersoftheFoundersofNewOrleans.Eachladyisadirect
descendantofoneofthecolonistswhowasestablishedintheNewOrleansareain1768.”

Charlie had no idea why she had to say that since everyone here—well, except Scott—were

descendantsofthecolonists,butitwastraditiontoannounceitsothateveryonewhothoughtitwasabig
dealcouldpatthemselvesontheback.

Ifeverythingwasonschedule,sevendebutantesinwhiteformalgownswerenowlinedupoutside

theballroomdoor.

“OurdemoiselleseachcarryanosegayofpinkrosesandwearagoldmedallionwiththeDaughters

oftheFoundersofNewOrleanscrest.”Againwiththeuselessinformation.

Thedoubledoorsopenedoncue.“First,wehaveMcKinneyMonseuxHornbuckle,escortedbyher

mother,Anna-JulieMonseuxHornbuckleDupreeGivensWeinstein.”Charliedidn’tneedtopointoutthat
Anna-Juliehadturnedtrophywifedomintoacashcrop—allofthoselastnamesdiditforher.AsAnna-
Julie got older, so did her husbands. Pretty soon she’d be shopping for a new one in Shady Pines Rest
Home.“Ms.Anna-JulieMonseuxHornbuckleDupreeGivensWeinsteinisadirectdescendantofJoseph
ChauvindeLery.”

Sure,CharliecouldhaveonlyusedtheWeinstein,butsinceAnna-Juliewasabitch,shedeserved

thefullforceoffivelastnames.Motheranddaughterpromenadedacrossthedancefloorandtooktheir
placeonCharlie’sleft.

“Next,wehaveKaraleeVickoryLeBlanc,presentedbyhergrandmother,Mrs.CarterEvansIII,a

descendantofClaudeFontaine.”Charliehadtostifleayawn.

It took serious resolve and more espresso than was healthy to get through the remaining

presentations,butCharlieforgedon.Afterallsevenhadbeenannounced,sheturnedtotheHaroldMays
Orchestra and nodded. Watered-down orchestral arrangements of decent songs started up. Men in tuxes
withtailsmadetheirwaytothedancefloortogreetthedebsandtheirescortsandaskthemtodance.

ShesmiledatScott.HewaslookinghandsomeinwhatsheguessedwasanArmanitux,andhe’d

been a very good sport, sitting at the head table next to her chair and pretending to be interested in the
evening’s festivities. It was a lot to ask of someone she’d just met. Hell, it was a lot to ask of an old
friend.

Shetooktheseatnexttohim.“Ican’tbelieveyoucameandstayedthroughthewholeprogram.”
“It was interesting… really interesting.” To his credit, he actually sounded interested. “We have

cotillioninLA,butnothinglikethis.”

“Wetakeourheritageveryseriously.”Shepickedupherwineglassandtookadelicatesip.
“Whosedescendantareyou?”Hesippedhiswine.
“I’m what you call a trifecta. I’m a decedent of Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville, Pierre

FrançoisMarieOlivierdeVézin,andJosephChauvindeLery.Someoneinmyfamilyhasbeenrunning
somepartofLouisianasincebeforeLouisianawasastate.”Andprettysoonherfathermightbeoutofa
job,anditwasallherfault.

“Wow,Ididn’trealizeyouwereLouisianaroyalty.ShouldIboworsomething?”Hesoundedlike

hewasonlyhalfkidding.

“Bowing is so old fashioned. I prefer for my subjects to genuflect when I walk into the room.”

Charlieglancedatthewhite-andblack-cladbodiesswirlingaroundthedancefloor.Allofthismustlook
ridiculoustoScott,buthedidn’tseemanythingbutbemused.

TheorchestraplayedsomethingthatsoundedlikeMadonna’sLikeaVirgin.
“Sinceyou’reroyalty,canIseeyourtiara?”Hewinkedather.

Charliebattedhereyelashesandfannedherself,sayinginanexaggeratedSouthernaccent,“Well,

sir,agentlemandoesnotaskaladysuchanimpertinentquestiononthefirstdate.”

Heputhishandoverhisheart.“Beggin’yourpardon,ma’am,butinquiringmindswanttoknow.”

HewentforSouthernbutsoundedNordic.

“That’saveryunusualaccentyouhavethere.Whatcountryisitsupposedtobefrom?”Apartfrom

hisoccasionalfoot-in-mouthdisease,shewasenjoyinghereveningwithScott.

Hiseyeswentwidelikehewaswounded.“Whatdoyoumean?ThatwasagreatSouthernaccent.”
“Turnupyourhearingaids,Scotty,’causethatwasterrible.”Shepattedhishand.Againwiththe

touching.Whathadgottenintoher?Hedidn’tseemtonotice,thankGod.“Ifyouwanttolearntospeak
likeaSoutherner,youneedtowatchyourvowels.‘O’and‘U’togethersoundlike‘ouch’minusthe‘CH.’
Also,youneedtosmilewhenyouspeak.IntheSouth,weholdourmouthseast-to-westsothatbarelyany
teethareshowingwhenwespeak.IntheNorth,y’alltalknorth-to-south.”

“I’mfromCalifornia.”
“Hon’,anyonefromnorthofArkansasandwestofTexasisconsideredaYankee.”Sheshrugged.“I

don’tmaketherules.”

“Ican’trememberifItoldyouhowbeautifulyoulooktonight.”Tohiscredit,hiseyesneverleft

herface.“Redreallysuitsyou.”

“Thankyou.Youlookprettygoodyourself.”Shedidlookgoodtonight.Herredfull-lengthRoberto

Cavalli dress fit her perfectly. It left one shoulder bare and had a slit up to her left mid-thigh.
Traditionally, this was an all black-and-white ball, but Charlie was trying on rebellion to see if it fit.
True,goingredattheFoundersBallwasn’texactlystagingacoup,butbabysteps.

“After the next dance, we can leave.” She was more than ready to get out of here, but not quite

readyforthenighttoend.

“Butwehaven’tdanced.”Hestoodandheldouthishand.“MayIhavethepleasureofthisdance?”

“Iwouldbehonored.”TheorchestrastartedinonsomethingthatsoundedalotlikeAC/DC’sHells

Bells.

“Justsoyouknow,I’maverysnazzydancer.”Hetwirledheraroundandontothedancefloor.

“I’lltrytokeepup.”Shesmiledupathimashepulledherintohisarms.“You’reverysmooththis

evening.Where’smyoldfriendFoot-in-His-Mouth?”

“IfIsaidyouhaveabeautifulbody,wouldthatcount?”Helaughed.
“Thereheis.Iwasbeginningtomisshim.”ShewasactuallyhavingfunattheFoundersBall.Fun

wasunheardofattheFoundersBall.

“Aroundyouhecomesoutmorethanheeverhas.”Scottwatchedherwithveryseriouseyesthat

stayedonherfaceandthenmovedsouth.

“Areyoulookingdownmydress?”She’dtotallycaughthimred-handed—or,well,red-eyed.

“No,I’msizingyouuptoseeifyou’llfitinthetrunkofmycar.”Heleanedclosetoherearand

whispered,“I’manaxmurderer,butMamamademepromisetogetyouhomesafely.ShesaidIcansave

myax-murderingwaysforpeopleshehates.Shegavemealist.”

“Mama always makes life interesting.” Sometimes Charlie wished that Mama was actually her

mother, and then other times she wanted to walk on the opposite side of the street from her so people
wouldn’tknowtheykneweachother.

“Shelovesyoualot.”Hepulledherinclosersothatherheadrestedonhischest.“IfItryanything

untoward—herwordnotmine—she’spreparedtobeatmesenselessandcutoffanypartofmybodyshe
chooses.”

“Just so you know, she’s a huge fan of Lorena Bobbitt.” Charlie thought it was only fair to warn

him.

“Who?”Hedidn’tsoundconcerned.
“Youshouldgoogleherandkeepallofyouruntowardmovestoyourself.”Shelikedbeingheldby

him—maybe a little too much. It was plain as day that he wasn’t who he said he was, so she had no
businesslikinganythingabouthim.

“You’renothinglikeIthoughtyouwouldbe.”Hiswholebodyflinchedlikehehadn’tmeanttosay

that.

Shestiffenedtoo.“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“Only that you’re the governor’s daughter. Shouldn’t you be the spoiled little rich girl the gossip

blogshavemadeyououttobe?”Mostofthetensionlefthisbody.

Hewasjusttryingtomakeconversation.
“Thespoiled-rich-girlpersonaissomethingmyfriendsLuckyandBettscameupwith.”Shehadno

idea why she felt the need to tell him the truth. “Sometimes I feel awkward in front of the media or
crowds.IfIleaveapubliceventearlyormisspeak,thepublicchalksituptoabadcaseofaffluenza.It’s
bothapersonaandadisguise.”

“Affluenza?”Hearchedaneyebrow.

“Toomuchmoneyandnotenoughcommonsense.”Shelethereyesgowideandvacant,droppinga

coupledozenIQpoints.“But,officer,whenthecargoesdownthehill,itjustgoesfaster.”Shewaggled
hereyebrows.“Affluenza.”

“Right…still.Youcouldatleastname-drop.IfIwerethegovernor’sdaughterand,”hepointedto

theroomatlarge,“I’mguessing,theonlypersoninherewhoisrelatedtoanunprecedentedthreeofthe
original New Orleans settlers, I’d use my father’s name to get out of parking tickets.” He watched her
verycarefully,almostlikehewaswaitingfortherealCharlietocomeoutandplay.

Toobadforhim,thiswastherealCharlie.“Ihatetodisappointyou,butI’mjustplainoldme.I’m

notadivaoranairhead.Thewayyou’restudyingmeisstartingtomakemeuncomfortablethough.Want
mymeasurementssoyou’llknowforsureifIfitinyourtrunk?”

“No,Iwastotallylookingdownyourdress.”Hesmiledandlotsofwhiteteethshowed.

Chapter5

CharlieGuidrywasproofpositivethateventhemostskilledandhighlypaidresearcherscouldcrunchall
of the available data and still get it wrong. She was smart and charming and, well, damn it, she was
sweet.ThekindofsweetthatmadeWagnerwanttoopendoorsforhernotbecauseitwaspartoftherole
hewasplayingbutbecausehewantedtodonicethingsforher.

It had been a long time since he’d met anyone who was sweet. Rich, yes… self-involved, yes…

spoiled,yes…butsweet?HewasprettysureHollywoodchewedthesweetoutofapersonbeforeitspit
themout.

Heopenedthefrontdoorofthecountryclubforher.“Ihatetoaskyou,butcanIhavearide?”

Hehadn’tbroughthiscarontheoffchanceshe’dvolunteertotakehimhome.
“Iwonder,whattheoddsareofanaxmurdereroverpoweringmewhileI’mdrivingmyowncar?”

Sheopenedthetinyblackclutchpurseshewasholdingandpulledoutakeyfob.Sheclickeditandthe
lightsflashedonaredBMWM6convertible.

Thecarwasabitflashy,butitwasfunandtotallysuitedher.

“I’dlookitupforyou,butmyphonedied.”Itreallyhad.He’dpurposefullynotchargedit,againon

theoffchanceshe’dtakehimhomebecausehecouldn’tcallforanUber.

There was no way around it. For the first time since he’d been doing this kind of work, he felt

slimy.

“Justsoyouknow,Ihaveapermittocarryconcealed,andI’maverygoodshot.”Shedidn’tsound

threatening,justmakingconversation.

“Dulynoted.Plus,Idon’twanttopissMamaoff.IgoogledLorenaBobbittbeforemyphonedied.

That woman scares the hell out of me.” Wagner felt his whole body cringe. Lorena had cut off her
husband’s penis. True, she had been a victim of domestic violence, but then why didn’t she cut off his
headinsteadofhispenis?

Heopenedthedriver’s-sidedoorforCharlie,madesureherfull-lengthdresswouldn’tcatchinthe

door,andthencloseditforher.Heranaroundtothepassenger’ssideandgotin.Ithadbeenalongtime
sincehe’dhadthismuchfunonadate.

HereyesscannedhisbodylikeshewasusingherX-ray-visiongogglestocheckhimforweapons.
“What?”Hegrinned.
“Ican’tfigureoutwhereyou’vehiddenyourax.”Shethoughtaboutitforasecond.“Iguessyou

couldhaveaportableonewithpieceshiddeninseveralplaces,butthatwouldtaketimetoputtogether.”

Hecouldn’thelpbutlaugh.“Ileftmyaxathome.Ipromise.”
Sheshookherhead.“WorstaxmurdererI’veevermet.”Shestartedtheengine.“Areyouhungry?”

“What,youdidn’tlovetherubberychicken,still-frozengreenbeans,andfakemashedpotatoesthey

servedtonight?”Hehadnoideawhyallballs,conferences,andweddingsseemedtoservetheverysame
menu.Ontheplusside,thebadfoodgavehimachancetocontinuehisdatewithCharlie.“Waitaminute,
yousaidthatthiswasNewOrleansandallofthefoodwasgood.”

“Ilied.”Shepulledoutoftheparkinglot.“Ifeellikegelato.”
“IsNewOrleansknownfortheirgelato?”Hewasn’treadyforthenighttoend.Hejustwantedto

hangoutwithhertoseewhatelseshe’ddo.

“Brocato’sis.Youwon’tfindbettergelatooutsideofItaly.Actually,thelasttimeIwenttoItaly,the

gelatowasn’tasgoodasBrocato’s.”CharliesoundedlikeshehatedtodistheItalians,butshehadtocall
themasshesawthem.

“I’m sold. You had me at gelato.” He liked a woman who ate regular food. Once, he’d dated a

modelwhoonlyateromainelettuceanddrankwater—andlettucewasalreadymostlywater.Lettucethree
mealsaday.Novarietyandnosaladdressing.She’dbeenhangryallthetime.

“Brocato’salsohasItaliandessertsthatarewonderful.”Charlielookedbothwaysbeforepulling

outinto traffic. “Toobad it’s afterseven or we’d geta Hansen’s Sno-Ball.Best New Orleans sno-ball
ever.”

“What is that, like a snow cone?” He hadn’t had a snow cone since he was a kid. They didn’t

qualifyasadultfood.

“Yesandno.Sno-ballsareafinershavedice,likesnow.Hansen’smakesalltheirownsyrupsso

there’snothingartificial.Chocolatecreamismyfavorite.It’slikethebestfudgesicleyou’veeverhad.”
Charliehadbecomeveryanimatedwhentalkingaboutfood.Soshewasafoodie.Hertight-tonedbody
suggestedotherwise.

“I’dlovetotryasno-ball.Howaboutafterbreakfasttomorrow?”Hecongratulatedhimselfonnot

askingifheshouldcallherinthemorningornudgeher.

“Isthiswhereyouaskmeifyoushouldcallmeornudgemeinthemorning?”Shekepthereyeson

theroad,buthecouldseeafaintoutlineofasmileonherface.

“Iactuallyhadtopressmylipstogethertokeepitfromcomingout.”Damn,heshouldhavekepthis

lipspressedtogethertokeepthatfromcomingout.

“Ilikethatthefilterfromyourbraintoyourmouthonlyworksintermittently.”Sheglancedathim,

winked,andthenturnedherattentionbacktotheroad.“Ibetthatparticulartraitdoesn’tserveyouwell
withallofyourcelebrityclientsbackatthelawfirmwhereyou’repretendingnottowork.”

“I’macontractor.Ibuildandrestorehouses.”Hetriedtosoundconvincing.
“Right, because every contractor I know has an Armani tux they bring with them on out-of-town

tripsontheoffchancetheymightneedit.”Shelookedhimupanddown.“You’reanattorney.Ijustdon’t
knowyetifJeromehiredyoutospyonme,butI’llfigureitoutsoon.”

“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”Heturnedhisheadandlookedoutthepassenger’s-side

window in case his face betrayed him. He’d never had any issues with lying to women until her.
Unfortunately, she inspired honesty in him. Not good for business and really not good for him. “Who’s
Jerome?”

“Myex-sort-of-fiancé.”Shesoundedsoblasé.
“Howwashesortofyourfiancé?”TohearJerometellit,she’dpracticallybeggedhimtomarry

her.

“Justbecauseheboughtmearing,myanswerwasaforegoneconclusion.Thatpart’sonhim.The

factthatIgaveupontryingtocorrecthimisonme.”Charlie’sversionseemedwaymoreplausiblethan
Jerome’s.

Itsaidalotaboutherthatshewaswillingtotakesomeoftheblame.

“Thissoundsreallybad,butIliterallylefthimatthealtar.”Shethrewupahandlikeatrafficcop.

“That’sterrible,Iknow.Ishouldhavehandleditdifferently.Ifeelbadaboutthat.”

It sounded like she really did feel bad. Would someone Jerome had described as a self-centered

partygirlreallyfeelguiltyaboutanything?Also,didgettinggelatoat8:30p.m.constitutebeingaparty
girl?Maybeafterwardshewasgoingoutforanightonthetownthatincludedbottleserviceandsnorting
cokeuntilfiveinthemorning.

Hewatchedherassheflippedonherturnsignalandthencautiouslychangedlanes.Nah,theroleof

partygirldidn’tfit.

“You’restaringatme.It’screepy…stop.”Sheglancedintherearviewmirror.
“Sorry.Istillcan’tgetoveryourlackofspoiledrichgirl.”Hell,ifhe’dbeenbornwiththekindof

oldmoneyshehadandafatherwhowasgovernor,therewasnotellingwhatkindoftroublehe’dhave
caused.Thenagain,hewasn’tmuchforpartying.Now,hisbabybrother,Sawyer,wasanotherstory.The
good brother and the bad brother. He’d learned the art of “fixing” by having to cover for his brother’s
escapades their entire lives. Their mother had often said that if she dropped them both off in a foreign
countryandtoldthemtofindtheirownwayhome,Wagnerwouldgetajob,savehismoney,andbuya
planeticket.Sawyerwouldhookupwiththerichestladyhecouldfindandflyhomeonherprivatejet
withafull-blownentourage.

CouldhecountcoveringforSawyerasprobono?
“So,you’reintownremodelingahouse?”Hecouldhearheroneeyebrowarchratherthanseeit.
“Yes.”Hehadafeelingshealreadyknewthetruthabouthim.

“That’ssoodd.”Shedidn’ttakehereyesofftheroad.
“Why?” Dread tickled his throat. He should have stuck with his original cover story of being an

architect.He’dtakenonelookatherinthatSanta’sFavoriteHoshirtandhiscoverstoryhadgoneoutthe
window.

“BecausetheDuplantisHouseisstillforsale.Therewasonebuyerbuthewantedtotearitdown

tobuildsometackycondos.TheOrleansParishHistoricalSocietygotaninjunctionandthebuyerwalked
away.Nowthehistoricalsocietyisraisingmoneytobuyit.”Shedidn’tsoundsmugsomuchasmatter-of-
fact.

Ohcrap.
Hewentinforthesave.“IworkfortheOrleansParishHistoricalSociety.Theyhiredmetocome

takealookatthehouseandseewhatrepairsneedtobemade.”There,thatsoundedplausible.

“Huh, that’s odd.” She shot him a smile. “I’m on the board of directors of the Orleans Parish

HistoricalSocietyandIdon’trememberhiringyou.”

“Wow, I totally walked into that one didn’t I?” What else could he say? He knew when to admit

defeat.He’dbeenbustedbigtime.

“Yes,butIgiveyoucreditforstickingwithyourstupidstoryuntiltheveryend.”Shedidn’tsound

mad.

“Iguesswe’redone.”Hewassittingsixinchesfromher,buthealreadymissedher.
“Not necessarily. Tell me the truth and I’ll decide your fate.” She took the entrance ramp to the

freeway.

He was tempted to do just that. “My real name is Wagner Scott and I’m an attorney.” He took a

deep breath and told her another lie. “I work for a foreign investor who’s interested in the Duplantis
House.That’sallIcansay.Don’taskmeanymore.”

“And what, you came into the bar to meet me so you could scope out the other potential buyer?”

Sheshookherhead.“Atleastmyex-fiancédidn’tsendyou.”Shetookhereyesofftheroadforabrief
secondtolookathim.“Doyouknowheactuallyhiredamantowineanddinemejustsohecouldget

backatme?”

“That’s really terrible.” So Wagner wasn’t the first man Jerome had hired to take Charlie out.

Jeromehadfailedtomentionthat.“Whathappenedtoyourfakesuitor?”

“AssoonasIfoundout,Ibrokethingsoff.”Shethoughtaboutitforasecond.“That’snotentirely

true.Itwasneverreallyon.MichaelwasmoreofahandydatetohavearoundsoIwouldn’thavetogo
alone to social engagements. Only, now he keeps popping up at my house to ask me to marry him. I’m
guessinghegetssomesortofbonusifheleavesmeatthealtar.”

“Orhe’sreallyinlovewithyou.”Wagnertriedtolaughthatoff,buthecouldseehoweasyitwould

be to fall in love with her. She was gorgeous, vulnerable, smart, easy-going, and, well, pretty damn
loveableineveryway.

“I seriously doubt it. Any man who takes a job romancing a woman for money isn’t capable of

emotion.Thinkaboutit,howcouldhelivewithhimself?”Shesoundedcompletelybaffledbythatone.Of
courseshewouldbe.Shedidn’thaveadishonestboneinherbody.

WhenshefoundouttherealtruthaboutWagner,he’dnevergettoseeheragain.Thatthoughthurt

morethanitshould.He’dneverbeeninlove—didn’tbelieveinit—buthecouldseethatfallingforher
wouldbeforever.Shewasn’tsomeoneamanevergotover.

Charliepulledintoanangledparkingspaceinfrontofadarkenedstorefront.Theunlitneonsign

outfrontread,A.BrocatoSpumoniandCassataIceCream.

Sheopenedthedriver’s-sidedoorbeforehecouldmakeitaroundtodoitforher,butheopened

Brocato’sfrontdoorasplitsecondbeforeshecould.Hehelditopenforherandthenfollowedherin.

“Sorry,we’reclosed,”amalevoicedcalledfromsomewhereintheback.

“Germaine,it’sjustme.”Charliesteppedaroundbehindthecounter,grabbedanapronandaflat

ice-cream scooper, and smiled up at Wagner. “The pastries are already put away, but the gelato’s still
here.Whatwouldyoulike?”

“Are you sure you should be doing this?” It would look very bad if the daughter of the sitting

governorwasarrestedforstealinggelato.

Sonowhewasworriedaboutherwelfare?

Whenexactlyhadheswitchedsides?
Abouttwosecondsafterbumpingintoher.
Ateenagedboystuckhisheadoutaswingingdoorthatmusthaveledtothekitchen.“Hey,Charlie.”

Hecheckedtheclockonthewall.“Canyoufinishclosingup?I’vegotahotdate.”

“Youbet.”Shewavedbyewiththeice-creamscoop.
Theboy,Germaine,walkedoutthefrontdoorandthenturnedback.“Idon’tsupposeyou’dputina

goodwordformewithMandy?”

Shetiltedherheadtotheleftinayeah-rightlook.“Ifyou’resointoMandythenwhydoyouhavea

hotdatewithsomeoneelse?”

“Justmarkingtimeuntilyourniececomestovisityouagain.”Germaineshotheradazzlingsmile.

“Don’tforgettolockupbehindmeoryou’llbeservinggelatoallnight.”Hewavedashewalkedoutthe
frontdoor,andhecalledoverhisshoulder,“Samedealaslasttime.”

“I’ve got it covered.” She waved back and then looked at Wagner and nodded toward the front

door.“Thekey’sinthedoor.Youmightwanttocloseandlockit.Ifwedon’twe’llbehereallnight.”

“Do you work here too?” Every time he thought he had her figured out, some new facet of her

personalitymadeanappearance.

“No,theBrocatosareoldfamilyfriends.Igrewupcominghere.Mymotherbroughtme,andthen

aftershediedalonglineofnanniesbroughtmehere.”He’dknownhermotherhaddiedwhenshewas
six.Itmusthavebeenhardforher.Andlonely.

Wagner’smother,Joann,wasveryinvolvedinhersons’lives,andhewouldn’thaveitanyother

way—whichwasconvenientbecauseJoannScottnevertooknoforananswer.

Charlierarelymentionedherfather.Wasshepurposefullyleavinghimoutbecauseshedidn’ttrust

Wagner,ordidhenotplaythatmuchofaroleinCharlie’slife?Itmustbetheformer,becauseshewashis
campaignadvisorafterall.ConsideringthatWagnerhadliedtoherandwasstilllyingtoher,trustwasn’t
somethingsheshouldevergivehim.

Itwasweird,buthecaredwhatshethoughtofhim.Inhislineofwork,itdidn’tpaytocareabout

anyonebuthimself.

“Spumoni.”Shesetaclearglassbowldowninfrontofhimwithaperfectsliceofthelight-green,

brown,andpinkdessert.Shehandedhimaspoonandkeptoneforherself.“Tryit,it’sgood.”

He scooped up a small piece and slipped it into his mouth. Strawberry, chocolate, and pistachio

sweetnessswirledaroundhistongue.Itwasfantastic.

Charlietookapieceandslippeditintohermouth.Sheclosedhereyesandsmiledfromeartoear

incompletebliss.Christ,he’dgiveanythingtohaveherlookathimlikethat.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” Charlie looked up at him, confused. She patted his hand.

“That’sokay.Letmefixyoumyabsolutefavorite.”

Ifspumoniwasn’therfavoritebutclearlygavehersomuchpleasure,thenwhatwouldherfavorite

causehertodo?Hecouldn’twaittosee.

She stepped behind the counter, picked up a clean scooper from a basket, scooped up a healthy

doseofdarkchocolate,rinsedthescooper,andthendippedupthesameamountofsaltedcaramel.

“Now,thiscombinationissuretoconverteventhemostardentofgelatohaters.”Shesetthebowl

downinfrontofhim.

Wagner slid his spoon through the middle, getting a little of each flavor. He slid the bite into his

mouth.Itwasjusttherightamountofsalty,chocolaty,andsweet.Heclosedhiseyesandtookaturnonthe
blisswagon.“Thatisamazing.”

“Itoldyou.”Shescoopedupabiteofherown.
“Ifeveryone’sgone,howdowepayforthis?”Everythingbutthegelatocasewaslockeduptight.

Hedidn’tevenseeatipjar.

“We’reworkingitoff.”Shetookanotherbite.

Therewasdefinitelysomethingshewasn’ttellinghim.“How?”
“Wehavetomopthefloors.”Shegrinned.“Notafraidofalittleworkareyou?”

“No,ma’am,onlyyou’rewearingafancydressandI’minatux.Howdoyouproposewemopthe

floorwhilewearingcouture?”Itwashisturntogrin.“Ifyou’rethinkingweshoulddoitnaked,I’mone
hundred percent behind that plan.” He clamped a hand over his mouth. The most idiotic and somewhat
insultingthingskeptfallingoutofit.

“Iloveitwhenstupidthingspopoutofyourmouthandyou’repowerlesstostopthem.”Shestood,

leanedoverandgrabbedthehemofherdress,andtuckeditundertheonestrapathershoulder.Nowit
barelycoveredherass.Shekickedoffhershoesandsetthemonthetable.Theshewentaboutstacking
thechairsontopofthetables.

“You really are going to mop the floor.” He’d thought she was kidding. He stood and started

stackingchairs.“Ihavetosay,you’rethestrangestgovernor’sdaughterI’veeverknown.”

“Ohyeah,howmanydoyouknow?”

“You’vegotmethere.”He’dnevermetanyonequitelikeher.

Chapter6

Wagnerwasagoodsport.Charliehadn’texpectedhimtohelphermopthefloor,buthe’drolleduphis
trouserlegs,slippedoffhisshoesandsocks,andgrabbedamop.

Nowthathe’dfinallytoldherthetruth,shewasn’tsurewhattodowithhim.
Herungoutthemop,wentoutsidetohangitoverthefenceoutback,andcamebackinside.

“Mopping’stakencareof.”Helookedaround.“What’snext?”
“Honestly,Idon’tknow.”Shestudiedhim,andthenwhathe’dmeantsunkin.“Nothinghere.We’re

finished.Weneedtogooutthebackdoor,butIwasthinkingaboutwhattodowithyou.”

“I can think of all sorts of things I’d like to do with you.” His smile practically dripped sex. He

clampedhislipstogether.

“Comeon,sayit.Don’tholditback.”
Heunclampedhislipsandsaidononelongbreath,“Theysaythetongueisthestrongestmuscle,

wannafight?”

“Thereheis.Youhaven’tsaidanythingslimyinoverthirtyminutes.Iwasbeginningtowonder.”

She unhooked her dress from her shoulder. She’d had fun tonight—well, the second half of the evening
hadbeenfun.

Herolleddownhistrousersandslippedonhisshoesminusthesocks,whichheshovedinatrouser

pocket.“DoIgettoarguemycasebeforeyoupassjudgment?”

“No,Ilearnedalongtimeagotoneverarguewithanattorney.Y’allliketoplayTwisterwiththe

truth.”Shewaitedforhimtoopenthedoor,andthenshesteppedintothealley.“Ilikedyoubetterwhen
youwereanaxmurderer.”

“Icangobacktothat.”Helookedarounddramatically.“NowwheredidIleavethatdarnax?”
“Maybeyoushouldgetanewone?Sofaryourpersonalhygienehasbeenmorethanadequate,but

I’dhatetoseethataxunderabluelight.”Sheshivered.“Germs.”

“Morethanadequate?”Hewasalloffendedmaleego.“I’llhaveyouknowI’mwearingbrand-new

lavender-freeaftershave.”Heleanedover.“Smellme.Ismellfantastic.”

Shehadnochoicebuttosniff.“Notbad.Ilikeit.”
Hedidsmellfantastic,andsheenjoyedspendingtimewithhim.Sheshouldkickhimtothecurbfor

lyingtoheraboutbeingacontractor,butthetruthwas,shedidn’twantto.Hemadeherlaugh,andthat
hadn’thappenedinaverylongtime.“Whatotherskeletonsdoyouhavehiddeninyourcloset?”

“Youshouldbeprepared.Ihavesomereallyterriblethingsinmypast.”Hisnosewrinkledatthe

thoughtofsuchunpleasantness.

Shetookadeepbreathandnodded.“Icanhandleit.Goforit.”
“Itallstartedwithmylittlebrother,Sawyer.Beforehim,Iwasagoodlittleboy.”Wagnerwasall

seriousness.“Whenmymotherbroughthimhomefromthehospital,Itriedtoreturnhim,buttheywouldn’t
takehimback.ThenIputhiminthedryer—”

Charliegasped.
“What?Ididn’tturniton.Iwasfive.Ithoughtitwasaportaltoanotheruniverse,onethatwanted

theirscreamingbabyback.”Hescratchedhischin.“ThentherewasthetimeinsecondgradeIstoleallof

theredSharpiemarkersoutofMrs.Jessup’sdesk.”

“Onlytheredones?”Sheunlockedthecarusingherkeyfob.

“I needed them to draw fake chicken pox on myself so I could go home. The newest Nintendo

consolewasoutanditwasn’tgoingtoplayitself.”Heopenedthecardoorforher,waitedforhertoslide
inandbuckleup,andthenclosedit.“WhenIwasseven,IgotaBuckknifeformybirthdayandIdecided
totestthesharpnessbystabbingthesofacushions.”

“WhenIwasseven,Igotadollhouse.IwishI’dknownyouthen.I’dtotallyhaveletyoustabit.”

Shehadn’tthoughtofthatstupidhouseinawhile.Herfatherhadboughtitforher.Helivedwithher—he
shouldhaveknownshedidn’twantastupiddollhouse.

Helookedherupanddown.“Whatdoyouhaveagainstdollhouses?”
“Nothinginparticular.It’sjust,thatyearIwantedsomethingelse…”Howhadthisbecomeabout

her?

“Whatdidyouwant?”

“Mymotherback.”Thewordswereoutbeforeherbrainhadtimetostopthem.
“Iknowhowthatfeels.MydadleftalittleoverayearafterSawyerwasborn.”Hesoundedlikehe

knewexactlyhowshefelt.

“Isthatwhyyoudon’tlikeyourbrother?”Sheknewwhatitfeltliketoloveafamilymemberbutto

notlikethemverymuch.

Heopenedhismouthandthenclosedit.“I’veneverthoughtofitthatway.It’snotthatIdon’tlike

Sawyer, it’s just, well… I mean, I do love him…” It sounded like he’d just realized he didn’t like his
brother.

“It’s okay to not like your family. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them.” If only she could stop

beatingherselfupandfeelingguiltyfornotlikingherfather.Theworstpartwasshewasn’tsureheliked
orlovedher.

“Howdidyourmotherdie?”Itwasn’tapityquestion.Hereallywantedtoknow.
“Brainaneurysm.Shehadaheadacheandtookanap.Sheneverwokeup.”Charliemighthaveonly

been six, but she remembered it very clearly. She and her mother were supposed to go to a gallery
opening,onlyCharliehadn’twantedtogo.She’dscreamedandthrownahugefitbecauseshe’dwantedto
haveateaparty.She’dgivenhermotheraheadache,soMommywenttotakeanap.Charliehadsnuck
into the bed and snuggled up next to her. They’d slept for hours until Charlie couldn’t wake her up.
Logically,sheknewshewasn’tresponsibleforhermother’sdeath,butthesix-year-oldgirlinsideofher
knewthatshewas.

“Itwasn’tyourfault.”Thewordsweresolemnandquietandtrue.

How had he known what she was thinking? She knew for a fact that her face hadn’t shown it,

becauseshe’dlearnedtonevershowhertruefeelingstoanyonebutLucky,Betts,andMamaCherie.

“Iknow.”Butsheknewshedidn’tsoundconvincing.

“When your number’s up, your number’s up.” There was no pity in his voice, only comfort and

conviction.

“YousoundlikeMamaCherie.”FiveminutesaftermeetingMama,she’dwishedthatMamawould

legallyadopther.

“Isitmeorisshealittlecrazy?”Hesmiledwhenhesaidit,buttherewaswarinessinhiseyes.He

wasprobablyrememberingLorenaBobbitt.

“No,she’salotcrazy.”ButshewasthefamilyCharliechoseandnottheoneshe’dbeenborninto.

“I’mprettysuresheranmyfingerprintsusingmyglassfromthebar.”
Charlierubbedherhandstogether.“Ican’twaittoseewhatshefindsout.”

“Here I am pouring out my life story to you and it’s still not enough. I haven’t even gotten to the

goodpartsyet.There’sthestorywhereItriedtosellmybrotherforbeermoneyorthetimeIateamillion
pigs-in-a-blanketatmycousin’sweddingandthrewupalloverthebride.”

“That’snasty.”ShepulleduptothedrivewaythatledtothebackoftheDuplantisHouse.“Once,I

atesomanyPeanutM&M’sthatIthrewupallovermyfather’sshoes.Hewasn’thappy.”Anditshould
havecuredherofherneedforchocolate,butithadn’t.

Wagner’seyeslockedontothemainhouse.“AmIcrazyoristherealightoninsidethehouse.”
Sheglancedbehindherassheputthecarintopark.
“Ithoughtitwassupposedtobeempty.”Hegotoutofthecarandwatchedthehouseasheopened

herdoorforher.“Thinkit’sasquatterorsomekids?”

“Probablyneither.”Sheleanedagainstthetrunkandwatchedthelight.“Thehouseishaunted.”
“Comeon,that’sridiculous.Tellmeyoudon’tbelieveinghosts.”Histonewasallyeah-right.

“I’mfromNewOrleans,ofcourseIbelieveinghosts.NewOrleansisthemosthauntedcityinthe

US.”Shekepthereyesonthelightonthetopfloor.“Youcanlaugh,butI’veseentheCivilWarsoldiers
andheardthecannonfireattheBeauregard-KeyesHouse.AndI’veseenandheardAda,ateenagedgirl
fromthe1840s,brushpastamaninfrontofmeattheLePavillonHotelandturnbackandsay,“Pardon
me,Iam…verylost.”

“That’snuts.”Heshookhisheadlikehejustcouldn’twraphismindaroundit.
“Doyoubelievepeoplehavesouls?”Thiswasoneargumenthewasn’tgoingtowin.

He looked like he was weighing it in his mind. “Yes, I guess. I believe in an afterlife so, yes, I

believeeveryonehasasoul.”

“Thenwhyisithardtobelievethatsometimesthosesoulschoosetostaywithusratherthangoto

the afterlife? Maybe they don’t know they’re dead or they aren’t ready to give up being alive or aren’t
readytoleavetheirlovedonesbehind.”Sometimesshewouldwalkintoaroomandsmellhermother’s
perfume.Sinceitwasdiscontinueddecadesago,shelikedtothinkthathermotherwasstillwithherorat
leastcametovisitonceinawhile.

Hiseyeswentallsquintylikehewassearchingforanargumentagainstitbutcouldn’tfindonethat

hewashappywithsohefinallyshrugged.“Kindofmakessense.”Henoddedtowardthehouse.“Wonder
whothatis.”

“It’sAngeliqueBabetteDuplantis.”Charliepointedtothelightintheattic.“She’spacingtheattic,

waiting for her father, Jacques, to let her out. He found out about her plan to elope with the son of a
riverboatcaptain.Needlesstosay,hewasn’ttoohappyaboutthematchorthefactthatshewaspregnant,
sohelockedherintheattic.”

“Soundslikeaheartlessbastard.”Wagnerheadedtowardthehouselikehewantedtosaveher,but

hemusthaverealizeditwastoolate.HestoppedandturnedbacktoCharlie.“Whathappenedtoher?”

“Nooneknows.Herfatherchallengedthewould-besuitortoaduel.Apparentlybothwerepretty

goodshots,becausetheykilledeachother.NooneknowswhathappenedtoAngelique,butshewasfound
deadthenextmorningbythecook.Somesayshediedofabrokenheart,butothersthinkshefelltryingto
climb out a window and broke her neck. She’s one of the reasons I think souls sometimes don’t know
they’redead.Whywouldanyonechoosetospendeternitypacinginahotattic?”Charliehadoftenthought
thattheremustbeabetterwayforAngeliquetospendhertime.

“Howdoyouknowallofthis?”Hesnappedhisfingers.“Parishhistoricalsociety,Iforgot.”
“Well,yes,andAngeliqueisfamily.HerbrotherRaimondwasmygreat-great-great-grandfather.”

Charlie had loved it when her mother had told her stories about her ancestors. Either her father didn’t
knoworhejustdidn’tcareaboutanyonewhocamebeforehim—orafter,forthatmatter.

“Sothisissortofyourfamilyhouse.”Heseemedamazedbytheconnection.
“Yes, I guess, or, well, one of them. When you descend from three of the original settlers, that

meansthatsomeonefromyourfamilyhaslivedinmostofthebuildingsinthiscity.”Shepointedinthe
generaldirectionoftheGardenDistrict.“Iliveinmypaternalgrandmother’shouse.”

“I’dlovetoseeit.”Heheldhishandsup.“Nottryingtoinvitemyselfoverforthenight,justsaying

thatIbetit’simpressive.”

“Myhouseisimpressive.”Thatwasactuallytheperfectwordforit.Impressiveandrepressiveand

oppressive.“It’saGreekRevivalthatismostdefinitelyimpressive.”

“Ican’twaittoseeit.”Hewatchedheroutofthecornerofhiseye.“Tomorrow?”

SheputherhandoverherheartandsaidinhermostexaggeratedSouthernvoice,“Why,kindsir,

areyouaskingifyoumaycalluponmeatmyhometomorrow?”

“Iam.”Hiswholebodyrelaxed.“Youreallyshouldkickmetothecurbforlyingtoyou.”

“I’minpolitics.IfIkickedeveryonetothecurbforlyingtome,I’dbealonetwenty-fourseven.”

Sheyawned.Itwasprobablyallofteno’clock.“Ishouldgohomeandgetmybeautysleep.”Sheyawned
again.

Heclampedhislipstogetherandnodded.
“Comeon,spillit.”Shemotionedforhimtojustspititout.

“Icouldtuckyouin.”Heshookhishead.“Night,night,sleeptight,Ionlybiteifyouwantmeto…I

don’tknowwhybutyoubringoutmyinnerslimeball.”

Shehunchedhershoulders.“It’sgrowingonme.”
“That’sgoodbecauseit’sembarrassingthehelloutofme.”Hesteppedcloserandbrushedastray

lockofhairbehindherear.

Damnifherheartdidn’tgoallpitter-pat.
“AtleastIknowforsurethatJeromedidn’thireyoutoromancemetodeath,becausenooffense,

youkindofsuckatit.”Nowwhowassayingthewrongthingatthewrongtime?

“How’sthisforromance?”Hecuppedherfaceandslowlyloweredhismouthtohers.
Thekisswasslowandsensual.Hestartedwithherlipsandworshippedthemwithhis.Hewasn’t

inahurry.Itwaslikehewantedtosavorthefirsttasteofher.Sheopenedhermouth,wantingmore,buthe
tookhissweettime.Lazily,histongueexploredtheinsideofhermouthashepulledherintohim.Heat
sizzled through her. The urge to crawl up him and wrap her legs around his waist and ride him like a
prizedponywasalmosttoogreattoignore,butladiesdidn’tdothingslikethat,especiallyoutsideforall
theworldtosee.

Reluctantly,shesteppedback.

“Wow.”Helookedasdazedasshefelt.
“Wow is right.” She fanned herself. It wasn’t ladylike, but it was a heck of a lot better than

crawlinguphimlikeastripperworkingthepole.

“Damn, I barely remember my own name.” His face scrunched up in horror. “Did I say that out

loud?”

“Yes and it was charming.” She leaned up on her tippy-toes to kiss him again and then thought

betterofit.“Ishouldgo.”

“Yes, you should, or we both know you’re going to end up flat on your back on the grass.” His

smilewasdownrightwicked.

“Don’tberidiculous,I’dbeontop.”Shereturnedthewickedsmile,openedherowncardoor,and

slidbehindthewheel.HemightonlybeinNewOrleansforashorttime,butshewasgoingtoenjoythe
helloutofhim.

Chapter7

Charliewaiteduntilshe’dmadealeftontoBourbonbeforeshecalledBetts.

Bettspickedupthephoneonthethirdring.“Lucky’sontheotherline,letmeconferenceherin.”
Charliewaitedonholdforalloffourseconds.

“Mamasaysyou’regettingsometonightandit’sallthankstoher.”TherewasasmileinLucky’s

voice.“Spill.”

Charlie glanced at the clock. It was nine forty-seven. “It’s still early. I guess there’s still time,

exceptI’malreadyonmywayhome.”

“Wellthatjustsucks.”Bettshadawaywithwords.“Maybeyoushouldturnaroundandgoback.

He’saguy—I’msureyoucanconvincehimtoripoffyourclothes.”

“It’sthetwenty-firstcentury.Riphisclothesoff.”Luckywasallaboutequalrights.
“Ormaybesomemutualclothesripping.Idon’tmeantobeoverlypoliticallycorrect,butyouare

both very capable of ripping each other’s clothes off.” Betts was never overly politically correct. That
wasCharlie’sjob.

“Arey’allfinished?”God,shelovedtheseladies.
“Idon’tknow,areyounakedyet?”Bettssoundedsomuchlikehermother,butshe’dhavehatedfor

anyonetopointthatout.

“Nope,I’mwearingmyclothesandhe’sstillwearinghis—well,asfarasIknow.”

“I’llgiveyoutwentybuckstoturnaroundandgofindout.”Luckywascompletelyserious.
“I’ll double it. Forty dollars to see if he’s still got his clothes on.” Betts sounded like she was

closingadoor.

“Arey’alltryingtopaymetohavesex?”Charlieshookherhead.“That’ssowrong.”

“No,we’repayingyoutooglehisnakedbody.Sexshouldalwaysbefree.I’mfirmonthat.”Betts

yawned.Shehadtwokidsundertheageoffive.Therewouldbeaproblemifsheeversoundedrested.

“I’dhavetodisagree.Ithinkhookersworkhardfortheirmoney.Idon’tbegrudgeanyonemakingan

honestliving.”Luckythoughtaboutthatforasecond.“Iguessitisn’tanhonestliving,butIdon’tthinkit’s
adishonestlivingeither.”

“I think we’ve strayed off course.” It had always been Charlie’s job to keep the peace and keep

themontrack.

“You’reright.”Betts’syawnturnedintoasneeze.“Sorry,allergyseason.So,Mamasaysthathe’s

cuteandhe’salawyer.Whatelsedoyouknowabouthim?”

ApparentlyMamahadn’tboughtthewholecontractorthingeither.

“HisnameisWagnerScott—”
“WagnerScott?DidyousayWagnerScott?”Lucky’svoicewasrising,whichmeantshewasgetting

mad.Thiscouldn’tbegood.

“Yes, it that bad?” Charlie wanted to know, but then again, she really didn’t. She liked spending

timewithhim.

“Yes,he’safixer.Youknow,likeRayDonovan,minusthebrassknuckles.Willhadtohirehima

couple of times to fix some of Ricky’s not-so-discreet indiscretions.” Lucky’s first husband, Ricky

Strickland, had been a rock ’n’ roll legend. When he’d died, it had seemed to hit the blonde coed
populationoverlyhard.

Charlie’sheartdroppedtoherknees.“Thatsucks.”

“Think Jerome hired him to romance you, like that Michael dude?” Lucky said while she typed

something.

“IthinkweshouldsicMamaandherbaseballbatonhim.NoonemesseswithaMarilyn.”Betts

wasreadytopickupRayDonovan’sbrassknucklesandbashsomeheads.

“Lookwho’sbeingallviolent.Stophorninginonmyjob.Charlie’sthevoiceofreason,you’rethe

heartandsoulofthegroup,andI’mtheenforcer.Ourrolesweredefinedalongtimeago.You’restepping
onmytoes.Imightneedtofileagrievancewiththeunion.”Luckywasdeadserious.

“Wedon’thaveaunion,”Bettssaid.
Luckystoppedtyping.“IjustmightstartonesoIcanfileagrievance.”

“Goahead,I’msurethepaperworkistremendous.”BettsknewLuckyhatedpaperwork.
Lucky typed some more. “I’m doing a background check on Wagner Scott, but there’s almost

nothing.Hisbrother,Sawyer,ontheotherhand,lookslikehe’dbelotsoffun.”

“I don’t think we need a background check.” Charlie turned into her driveway and clicked the

opener for the wrought-iron gate. She glanced up at the giant, white, well-lit mansion. Yep, it was
impressive.“Doweneedabackgroundcheck?”

“Well, it doesn’t matter because she’s already run one.” Betts yawned again. “If he’s a fixer and

youjusthappenedtorunintohimtoday,thenchancesarehe’sheretofixyou.”

Therewasalongsilencewhiletheyalldigestedthatpieceofinformation.

“AmIbroken?”Charliedidn’tfeelbroken.Herfatherthoughtshewasbroken,butsincehereally

wasbroken,shedidn’tthinkhisopinioncounted.

“No,you’rewonderful.”Betts’stoneturnedmean.“IbetthisisJer-gnome’sdoing.Hereallyisa

peniswrinkle,thoughIpreferdickhead.Sometimesyoujustcan’timproveonaclassic.”

“Jer-gnome.Ilikeit.”Luckycontinuedtotype.

“BettsgotmeagardengnomethatlookslikeJerome.It’sprettycool.”Charlielovedherfriends’

strangesenseofhumor.

“I didn’t get a Jer-gnome,” Lucky said. “I want a Jer-gnome. Nobody got me a Jer-gnome. Betts,

you’re in violation of article two, section D, paragraph A of the friend agreement. All gifts must be
equal.”

“Wedon’thaveafriendagreement.”Bettslaughed.“Besides,Imadeyouthatvaseinpotteryclass.

Don’tyouremember?IcalleditDickyDickland.Sonamedbecauseitlookedlikeagiant—”

“Nowwe’rewayofftopic.”Charlieclickedtheopenerforhergarageandpulledintothefirstbay.
“Hey,holdup,IjuststumbledacrossawebsitedevotedtowomenwhohateWagnerScott.”Lucky

soundedlikeshe’dfoundthegoldattheendoftherainbow.

“Imightlosey’all—I’mabouttogetoutofmycar,sogivemeasecondwhilethephonedrops.”

Charlieturnedoffhercar,openedthedoor,andsteppedout.Sheputthephonetoherear.“I’monmyway
inside.Letmegettomyoffice.”

Sheglancedaround.Samestuffyoldantiques,samecreepypaintingsofrelativeslongdead,same

housethatdidn’tfeellikehome.Maybeitwastimetomakethishouseher house instead of living in a
museum.Maybestartwithsomenewpaint.Andshecoulddonatesomeofthesepaintingstothehistorical
society.

Wouldn’therfatherlovethat?Healreadythoughtshe’dlosthermind.Thismightpushhimoverthe

edgeintogettinghersome“professionalhelp.”

SheflippedonthelighttoherofficeandtappedakeyonherMacBooksoitwouldcomebackto

life.Moreportraitsofdeadpeoplestareddownather.She’dneverthoughttoomuchaboutitbefore,but
itseemedlikeeverysinglepersoninherfamilylineagehadaportraitofthemselvespaintedandhungin
herhouse.

ShepulledupChrome.“What’sthewebsite?”
“Wait,I’mgettingmylaptoptoo,”Bettssaid.

“Thisisbothcleverandoriginal.It’swww.wehatewagnerscott.com.”Luckysighedlongandhard.

“We’redealingwithsomeMensacandidateshere.”

Charlie pulled it up. The homepage featured a hangman cartoon with Wagner’s face on it. It said

“clickhere”sosheclickedthere.Alistofwomen’snamescameup.Atthebottomwasaninvitationto
add your own Wagner Scott story. She counted the women’s names. There were twelve of them. Each
nameseemedtobealink.“It’salistofallofthewomenhe’swronged.”

Charliehatedthatshe’dalmostbeenoneofthesewomen.She’dhonestlylikedhimandthoughthe

honestlylikedher.Atleasthe’dfinallytoldherthetruthwhenshe’dpressedhimonit.

Sheclickedononeofthenamesinthemiddle.“IjustclickedonLeslieSeever’sname.Let’ssee

whathedidtoher.”

ThepagethatcameuphadabiopicofLeslie.Shewasprettyinahomelysortofway.Charlieread

outloud:

ImetScottya.k.a.WagnerScottattheNewYorkCityBallet.I’masoloistandIthoughthewasa

fan.Weseemedtohaveballetincommon,likedthesamemusicandfoods.Wewentoutexclusivelyfor
three months. I fell in love. He told me he was in love too. I was happy. We were happy. I thought
marriagewasnext.Iknowitwasfast,buthemademefeellikethemostspecialwomanintheworld.It
wasallahoax.He’dbeenhiredbyarealestatedeveloperbecauseI’dinheritedasmallbuildingfrom
mygreat-aunt.Adeveloperhadboughtalloftheotherbuildingsontheblocksohecouldtearthem
down to build condos. I was the only holdout. Wagner convinced me to sell. Told me that the money
wouldgiveusagreatstarttoournewlifetogether.NowIhavetonsofmoneybutnoonetospendit
on.WhatWagnerdoesisdespicable.Ladies,beware.

“OhmyGod.”Lucky’svoicewasstrained.“Ithinkweshouldkillhim.DoesMamastillhavethe

numberofthathiredgunwhowaswillingtoworkforsmokesandhomemadejelly?”

“Probably.”Bettsyawnedagain.Itwaslateforher.“I’mgoingtoturnherontothiswebsiteandlet

hermakeherowndecision.”

“Now wait a minute. Before we kill him, we need to find out why he’s targeted me.” Charlie,

unlikealloftheseotherwomenwhohatedWagner,knewthatshewasn’tdifferent.Shewasn’tgoingtobe
theonewhochangedWagnerandmadeanhonestmanoutofhim.He’dbeenhiredbysomeonetoromance
somethingoutofher,andshewantedtoknowwhatthatsomethingwas.

“ItmustbeJerome,”Bettssaidwithfinality.“That’stheonlythingthatmakessense.”
“HetoldmehewasintownonbehalfofsomemysteriousinvestorwhowantstobuytheDuplantis

House.”Thatsoundedandfeltright.WagnerhadgenuinelynotknownwhoJeromewas.

“Isn’tthatthecreepyhouseonBourbonStreet?”Luckyyawnedtoo.
Bothladieshadsmallchildren.Sheshouldn’tkeepthemup.“YesandIshouldgo.”

“NotbeforeweresolvetheWagnerCase.”Bettsyawnedyetanothertime.

“TheWagnerCase—itsoundslikesomethingoffofcrimeTV.”Luckyyawnedagain.Itseemedthat

theywerepassingyawnsbackandforth.

“IwanttofindoutwhyIwastargeted.”Charliewouldn’tletherselfgethurt.Itwasassimpleas

that.

“Idon’tthinkthat’sagoodidea.”Bettswas,andalwayswouldbe,themotherhen.Heck,she’dhad

toraiseherownmother.

“Meeither,”Luckychimedin.Shewasturningouttobeamotherhenherselfwhenitcametoher

threestepdaughters.“Youcouldgethurt,andthenwereallywouldhavetokillWagner.Cometothinkof
it,Idon’tthinkahitmanwhogetspaidincigarettesandjellyisagoodidea.I’mgoingtofindarealone.
Anyideasonhowandwheretofindahitman?”

Thescariestpartwasthatshewascompletelyserious.
“Tellyouwhat.Let’sback-burnerthewholehit-manideauntilIfindoutwhyWagnerishereand

whathewants.Youtwoknowme.Idon’tfallinlove.Yes,he’scharming,andyes,Ienjoyspendingtime
with him, but when it comes down to it, I’m going to do what my head tells me and not what my heart
does.That’sjusthowIam.That’sjusthowI’mwired.”Shewasalwaysheadfirst.

“I know you think you can handle him, but it’s our job to worry about you.” Betts was in full-on

mommode.“Can’thelpit.It’sjustthewayitis.”

“Yeah, I love you, but I think you’re in over your head with this one.” Lucky had the gruffest

exteriorbutthetenderestheart.She’dgiveCharlietheclothesoffherback.

“Trustme,I’mgoinginwithmyeyeswideopen.Ilovethatbothofyouareworriedaboutme,butI

candothis.I’mprettysureJeromedidn’thirehim,soifnothim,thenwho?”Sheneededtofindout,and
thatwasalltherewastoit.

“Okay,butjustknow,we’rereadywiththehitmanwhenyouneedus.”Luckyyawnedagain.“Holy

crap,it’safterten.Ineedtogettobed.I’mcoordinatingthePTATeacherAppreciationBreakfastinthe
morning.”

Charliesmiledatthethought.AllLuckyhadeverwantedwastobeamom,butcancerhadrobbed

heroftheabilitytohavechildren.She’dfoundherfamilyanyway.“That’slovely.”

“Iknow.”Therewasalotofsmugnessinthosetwowords.

“Ihopeyou’renotdoingachampagnebreakfast.”Bettswasstillinmommode.
“Ithoughtaboutit,butitturnsouttheschoolboardfrownsontheirteachersbeingdrunkatwork.

Judgmental bastards. When did teachers stop drinking on the job? Remember Sister Agnes-Mary? She
wasbombedeveryday,alldaylong.”Luckyhadgrownupwithanalcoholicfather,sosheknewwhatshe
wastalkingabout.

“That’swhyworldhistorywassomuchfun.”Charlielaughed.

“Keep us posted. We’re always a phone call away,” Betts said through a yawn. “Don’t get hurt.

LikeMamasays—LuckyandIcan’trockprison-jumpsuitorange.”

“I’llbefine.Iworkwithpoliticiansallday.Trustme,Icanhandleonelittlefixer.I’mnotarookie,

thisisn’tmyfirstrodeo,I’vebeendownthisroadbefore—”

“Stop.Allofthesemetaphorsaregivingmemotionsickness,”Luckysaid.“Loveyou,kiddo.”
“Metoo,”Bettssaid.
“Lovey’allback.Sleeptight.Bye.”Charliehungup.

IfWagnerthoughthecouldromanceherandgetawaywithit,hehadanotherthingcoming.

Chapter8

The next morning, Wagner propped his small YETI cooler on the corner of Alicia Arneau’s desk. He
knewhernamewasAliciaArneaubecauseitwaswrittenonthelargebrassnameplatenexttohiscooler.
“I’dliketoseeMs.Guidry.”

“Doyouhaveanappointment?”Aliciawasallself-importance.
“No,I’mapersonalfriend.”Hell,he’dspentmostofthenightandallofthismorningthinkingabout

Charlie.Butshe’dleftbeforegivinghimherhomeaddress.Itwouldbeverystrange—andcreepy—for
himtoshowupatherhouse.

Technically, he was still working for Jerome. But that ended today. After he talked Charlie into

lunch and then dropped her back at her office, he was heading over to Jerome’s and formally quitting.
He’dneverquitajobbefore,buthecouldn’tdothisanymore.

“I’msorry.She’sverybusytoday.”AlicialookeddownhernoseatWagnerandthenglancedather

computerscreen.“Shemighthavesomethingopenfornextweek.MayIaskwhatthisisregarding?”

HenoddedtowardtheYETI.“Thesechocolatesno-ballsaren’tgoingtolastuntilnextweek.”He’d

stoodinlineforoveranhourtogetthem,andnoonewasstandingbetweenhimandwatchingtheblisson
Charlie’sfaceassheateone.

HepickeduptheYETIandwalkedtothedoubledoorstotheleftofAlicia’sdesk.“Noworries,

I’llannouncemyself.”

HeopenedtheleftdoorandwalkedintoCharlie’soffice.Shesatbehindadaintyantiquedeskwith

her right arm cocked back, dart in hand, ready to let it fly. Wagner glanced at the wall where she was
aiming.TherewasadartboardwithJerome’sfaceonit.

“Sorry,Ms.Guidry,hejustbargedin.”Aliciadidn’tspareWagneraglance.“I’llcallthepolice.”
“No,he’sfine.Iaddedhisnametotheapprovedfriendlist.”Charlietossedthedartanditlanded

dead center in Jerome’s right eye. Based on the number of holes in the picture, she’d been playing this
gameforawhile.Shesatdownatherdeskwithasatisfiedsigh.

AliciaglaredatWagner,backedoutoftheroom,andclosedthedoubledoorsbehindher.

“I’vebroughtyouagift.”HerestedtheYETIononeofthepurplevelvetchairsinfrontofherdesk,

unzippedit,andpulledoutonelargecupofsweetened-condensed-milk-coveredchocolatesno-ball.

“Iloveyou.”Charlie’seyesweregluedtothesno-ballasshesprungupfromherchairandwalked

aroundthedesk.

Had she been talking to him or the sno-ball? He ignored his racing heartbeat at her semi-

declarationoflove.He’dheardthosethreelittlewordsaimedathimfromsomanyladies,buthe’dnever
reallycaredtoomuchaboutthemuntilnow.

“Ithoughtyoumightlikeamidmorningsnack.”Hepulledoutahandfulofnapkins,wipedthesides

oftheneon-pinkplasticcup,andhandedittoher.

Shegavehimabigsmackingkissonthelipsandtookhersno-ball.Shelickedthetopofthecone

offandhereyesnearlycrossedwithpleasure.

Hetookouthisownsno-ballinaneon-greenplasticcup,wipeditclean,andlickedthetopofthe

cone off. It was amazing. It was a fudgesicle with the consistency of an actual snowball. How had he
livedsolongwithoutthisinhislife?

“IthinkIloveyouback.”Hetookanotherbite.“Thisis,withoutadoubt,thebestthingI’veever

tasted.So,areyoubusytoday?”

“Yes,very.”Hereyesglazedoverlikeshewaspullinguphermentalschedule.“Ihaveabrunch

with the Garden District Garden Club and then four meetings with campaign donors, and then tonight I
haveabanquethonoringsomeoneorsomethingIcan’tremember.Aliciawillknow.”

“Areyousureyouwouldn’trathertakethedayoffandplayhookywithme?”Ithadtakenallhehad

nottosay“playnookiewithme.”Mentally,hepattedhimselfonthebackforhisenormousself-restraint.

“Iwish,butIcan’t.”Shelookedlikeshereallywantednothingmorethantowalkoutofthisoffice

andnevercomeback.

“Maybethiswillsweetenthepot.”Hepulledoutakeyfromhisbackpocket.“Ihavethekeytothe

DuplantisHouse.”

Shesmiledaroundamouthfulofsno-ball.“Howdidyoumanagethat?”
Ithadtakenseveralphonecallstosomeveryinfluentialpeople,buthe’dpulleditoff.“I’mhereto

checkouttheproperty,remember?Besides,Iknowpeople.”

“Me too, but I’ve never been able to get the key.” She spooned in another sno-ball bite. “Then

again,I’veneverreallytriedthathard.”

Hewaggledthekey.“Comeon,taketheafternoonoff.Whathaveyougottolose?”

“Donors to my father’s campaign, my standing in the garden club, and based on last night’s kiss,

possiblymyvirtueandmostofmydignity.”Sheshothimanaughtygrin.

“I’m willing to risk it if you are.” He’d talked even the most responsible of people into taking a

sickday.

“Ican’t.”Shesoundedsoresolute.

“Then how about lunch? Skip the garden club and have lunch with me.” He was a master of

negotiation.

“Well…”Sheshowedthefirstsignsofwavering.“I’mnotspeakingandmytenureastreasurerwas

uplastmonth.IguessIcould.”

He’dbeencountingonlunch.Thefactthatshehadn’tmadehimworktoohardforitwasagood

sign—butofwhat?Realitycamecrashingdownonhim,shakinghimoutofthelovesickdreamhe’dbeen
walkingaroundinallmorning.Hewasheretoruinher,orintheleast,breakherheart.He’dnevernot
comethroughforaclient.

“What’swrong?”Sheputhersno-balldownonthedeskandstaredupathim.
“Nothing.”Hehungasmileonhisface.“Howaboutifyoumissedthefirsthalfofthegardenclub

butmadeitforthesecondhalf?”Hewouldn’tbeherundoing.Afterlunch,he’dgotellJerometokisshis
ass.HewantedtospendtimewithCharlieforhimselfandnooneelse.

“Halfforyouandhalfforthegardenclub…”Sheleanedupandkissedhimonthecheek.“Ican

workwiththat.”

Hecheckedhiswatch.“Shallwego?Everythingshouldbereadybythetimewegettothehouse.”
Hewasn’tbeingdeliberatelyevasive…ormaybejustalittle.

“Whatshouldbeready?”Charliepickeduphersno-ball.
“Moresurprises.”Helikeddoingthingsforher…alittletoomuch.

“Likewhat?”Shewaggledhereyebrows.“Ilovesurprises.”
“That’sformetoknowandyoutofindout.”Hedroppedakissonhercute-as-a-buttonnoseand

thenofferedherhiselbow.ShereallybroughtouttheSoutherngentlemaninhim.

Shewalkedbackaroundherdesk,openedadrawer,pulledoutherpurse,andreturnedandtookhis

elbow.“I’mallyours.”

“Ifonlythatweretrue.I’dpeelthatperfectlycutredbusinesssuitrightoffofyou—”Hemashed

hislipstogetherandshookhishead.

“Thereheis.”Shepattedhisarm.

“You’d be surprised at the number of people who truly believe I’m articulate, charming, and

professional.”ItwasamazinghecouldevenwalkwhenhewasaroundCharlie,whatwithhisfootbeing
constantlyinhismouth.“NoticehowIdidn’tmentionthatfantasticlacyredbrayouhaveon?”Andthere
hewentmentioningit.Herolledhiseyessofarbackinhisheadhecouldseethesynapsesfiringinthe
unfiltered-cavemanpartofhisbrain.

“I guess the double-sided tape I used to keep my suit jacket from falling open isn’t doing a very

goodjob.”Sheshrugged.“Don’tthinkthatwillhelpmetoomuchwiththegardenclub,butitcouldwork
inmyfavorwhenImeetwithErasmusLeLandria.HiseyesightisgoingsoI’llneedtobeovertsohe’ll
openhischeckbook.”

“Doallwomenknowhowtoworkmen?”He’dlongsuspectedtheyalltookaclass,buthecouldn’t

proveit.Clearly,Charliehadnotonlytakentheclassbutwasqualifiedtoteachit.

“Absolutely.Girls’Club.”Sheleanedintohim.“Wehaveasecrethandshake.I’dshowyoubutthen

I’dhavetokillyou.”

“Iknewit.”Girlshadbeenleadinghimaroundbythenoseforaslongashecouldremember.Then

again, he’d done his fair share of leading too. He opened her office door for her and waited for her to
walkthrough.

SheglancedoveratAlicia,whowasindustriouslytypingawayathercomputer.“I’llbebackafter

mybrunchwiththeGardenDistrictGardenClub.”

Aliciadidn’tnod,muchlesslookup.
WagnercaughtCharlie’slipcurl.Ifshedidn’tlikeherownassistant,whynotgetanewone?He

waiteduntiltheywereoutsideofherofficebuildingbeforeasking,“Whydon’tyoulikeyourassistant?”

“She’saspyformydad.”Thelipcurlwasback.
“Idon’tunderstand.You’rewayovertheageofconsent.Youdon’tneedachaperone.”Heopened

thecardoorforherandthenwalkedaroundtotheothersideandslidbehindthewheel.

“Hey,watchit.I’mnotthatfarovertheageofconsent.”Shebuckledherseatbelt.“Youmakeit

soundlikeIgetaseniordiscount.”

Hethoughtaboutitforaminute.“Thatwasapoorwordchoice.Whatameantwas,whatthehell?

Whydoesyourfatherneedaspy?”

“Thepartylineisthathelovesmeanddoesn’twantanythingoranyonetohurtme,buthonestly,he

doesn’ttrustmetomakemyowndecisions.”Shedidn’tsoundlikeaspoiledchild—onlyadaughterwho
wastiredofdealingwithhertyrantofafather.

“Sotellhimtotakeahike.”Sure,shewasherfather’scampaignadvisor,butshedidn’tneedtobe

underhisthumbtodothat.

“It’scomplicated.”Shesoundedtiredofthinkingabouttheissue.
Heletitdrop.NothingJeromehadtoldhimaboutherwasright.AccordingtoJerome,shewasa

spoiledrichgirlwhohadherfatherdoeverythingforher.Itlookedlikeitwastheotherwayaround.

“DoIgetahintaboutmysurprise?”Herlipsclampeddownonthestrawstickingoutofhersno-

ballasshetriedwithallofhermighttosuckupthesyrup.

“Nope.”Hesmiledtohimself.Apparentlyshereallylikedsurprises.Hefiledthatbitofdataaway

forfutureuse.

Sheglancedaround.“Standard-issuerentalcar,huh.I’vespentmyfairshareoftimeinthese.”
“Idon’teventhinkithasarealmakeandmodel.Just‘whiterentalsedan.’Itravelalottoo.”He

glancedintherearviewmirror.“Howmuchtravelingdoyoudo?”

“Morethanyou’dthink.Whenit’snotelectiontime,I’mflyingallovertryingtotalkbigbusiness

intocomingtoLouisiana.”Shetookabiteofsno-ball.

Helookedathissno-ballmeltinginthecupholderandwishedhecouldpulloverandtakeabite,

but the downtown traffic was bad. He’d debated taking a streetcar to get here, but he hadn’t been sure
howmuchtimeshe’dbeabletotakeforlunch.

Charlietouchedhisthigh.“It’seasierifyoutakeNorthClaibornetoEsplanadeandthentoBourbon

sincetheDuplantisHouseisintheresidentialpartofBourbon.”Shepointedtothenextbigintersection.

“Thanks.”Hehateddrivingonthosetinydowntownstreets.
“So…Igoogledyou.”Shepouredthelastofthesno-ballintohermouth.

“And what did you find?” He knew there wouldn’t be much. He worked very hard to maintain a

lowonlinepresence.

“Notmuch,whichisinterestinginthisdayandage.”Sheputheremptycupinthecupholdernextto

hisandturnedtowatchhim.“Whodoesn’thaveaFacebookpage?”

Heheldhishandup.“Me.Also,Idon’tTweet,Instagram,Snapchat,orLivestream.”

“Why?”ItsoundedlikeCharliecouldn’tbelieveanyonewouldpurposelystayoff-line.
“Whenyou’reinmylineofbusiness,itpaystohavepeoplenotbeabletoresearchyou.Iliketo

keep a low profile.” It was never a good thing for the mark to know they were being “fixed” by the
“fixer.”

“Istillhaveafewtricksupmysleeve.Iknowyou’reaHollywoodfixerwhomakesproblemsgo

away.”Shesmiled.“AmIoneofyourproblems?Areyousupposedtomakemegoaway?”

“You know I can’t answer that. Client privilege. But no, I most certainly am not making you go

away.Ilikehavingyouhere.”Rightnexttohim.Christ,whenhadheturnedintosucharomantic?Hewas
prettysurethatanyonewho’devermethimbeforewouldevercallhimaromantic.

“Sowhatareyouplanningondoingwithme?”Shegrinned.

“I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to force me into saying something inappropriate again.”

Holycrap,couldheeverthinkofseveralthingshe’dliketodotoher.Alloftheminvolvedhernaked,and
someoftheminvolvedtyinghertothebed.

“Your eyes glazed over. Care to share your thoughts with the class?” Sexy wasn’t hot enough to

describethelookonherface.

“No.”Heknewthatsheknewwhathewasthinking.“Doyoualwayswearlacyunderwear?”He

shookhishead.Itwaslikehismouthhadamindofitsown.

“Yes. Do you always wear suit trousers?” She patted his thigh again. “I bet you didn’t wear the

jacketbecauseyouthinkthatmakesitcasualwear.”

“Nojacketandnotieequalscasualwear.”Hesweptahanddownhisbody.“Thisismeoncasual

Friday.”

“Don’tyouownapairofjeans?”Shestudiedhim.

“No.”Hewasn’tajeanskindofguy.
“Irecentlyboughtmyfirstpair.Onceyougetusedtothem,they’rekindofnice.”Shewasserious.

“So before… you waitressed in… what?” By far, she was the most interesting person he’d ever

met.

“Believeitornot,Iusedtobeevenmoreuptight.”Shetiltedherheadrightandthenleft,likeshe

wasevaluatingherself.“Notuptightexactly…maybeoverlyorganizedisabetterdescription.”

“Canyoueverbetrulyoverlyorganized?”Helikedorder.Itmadelifesomucheasier.
“Iusedtohavelittlepocketssewnintotheinsideofmysuitjackets.Iusedtocarryeverythingyou

might need in an emergency. Stain remover, hairspray, nail polish, super glue… that sort of thing.” She
rolledhereyesatherownbehavior.

“Have lots of nail polish emergencies?” Overly prepared was even a bigger departure from the

womanJeromehadtoldhimshewas.

“Morethanyou’dthink.”Shesmiled.“Clearnailpolishisagreatfixall.Youcanuseittostopruns

inyourstockings,itworksgreatasaliquidBand-Aid,youcanuseittosealenvelopesinsteadoflicking
allofthatgrossglue,useittopainttheendofacutropetokeepitfromfraying,andyoucanuseiton
screws—justpaintthethreadsandit’sanextralevelofhold.”

“NowIfeellikeIneedtocarrysome.”Helikedtobepreparedtoo.“Whatcausedyoutoleave

yourfingernailpolishathome?”

“I left the little pockets behind the day I didn’t marry Jerome.” She played with her perfectly

polishedredfingernails.“Ineededachange.”

“Icantellyoufeelbadaboutthewholealmost-marriagething.Whydidyouchangeyourmind?”

Hereallywantedtoknow.Shedidn’tseemlikeaflightyperson,andshealsodidn’tseemlikesomeone
whowouldpurposelyhurtanyone.

“It was my friends who convinced me that doing the right thing meant not getting married.” She

pickedatapieceoffuzzonherskirt.“Inhindsight,Ishouldhavemarriedhim.Itwouldhavesolved—or
atleastnotcreated—somanyproblems.”

“Would you have been happy?” He couldn’t see her married to that pompous jackass Jerome.

Honestly,hecouldn’tseeanywomanputtingupwithJerome.

“No.”Sheevenhadtothinkaboutit.“Butotherswouldhavebeen.”
“Isn’tyourhappinessimportanttoo?”Clearlyshedidn’tloveJerome.Whywouldshehaveagreed

tomarryhim?

“Depends on who you ask.” She smiled tightly and then shook her head. “For my father, my

happiness is definitely secondary to his. For my best friends, who I think of as family, my happiness is
veryimportant,whichiswhytheytalkedmeoutofmarryingJerome.”

“Ilikethemalready.WhendoIgettomeetthem?”He’dneverreallywantedtomeetawoman’s

friendsbefore.

“You’vemetMama,andIthinkyoudidsomeworkforWillBrodie,whoismarriedtooneofmy

bestfriends,LuckyStrickland-Brodie.”

“ImighthavehelpedwithacertaingirlfriendwhoWill’shalfbrother,Ricky,neededtogoaway.”

He really shouldn’t divulge confidential information, but Ricky Strickland was dead and he was pretty
sureWillhadalreadytoldherthestoryanyway.

“Luckytoldmeeverythingshecouldfindoutaboutyou.”Charlielookedupathimfromunderher

lashes.Shelookedsexyashellandsheknewit.“Luckyhasatalentforcomputersandfindinginformation

thatnooneelsecanfind.”

“Whatdidyoufindout?”Heknewforafactthattherewasalmostnothingonhimonline.

“More than you’d think, and also less than you’d think. Banking records, business records, some

photos, a couple of reviews, and that’s about it.” Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “Did you know that
there’sawholewebsitecreatedinyourhonor?Well,maybenothonorsinceit’sfullofwomenwhohate
you. Apparently, romancing women is your specialty. I’m not sure why your,” she threw up some air
quotes,“‘foreigninvestor’thinksitwouldbehelpfultoromanceme,butI’vedecidedtoletyoutakeyour
bestshot.”Sheleanedbackandgrinnedathim.“Justsoyouknow,Idon’tbelieveinloveandIwon’tfall
foryou.Idoenjoyhangingoutwithyou,butwhenyouleaveIwon’tfallapart.”

Hewasn’tsurehecouldsaythesamethingabouthimself.

Chapter9

CharliewaitedforWagnertoopenhercardoorandhopedthatshecouldliveuptoherlaststatement.She
reallydidn’tbelieveinlove—orthatwasn’tcorrect,shedidn’tbelieveinloveforher.She’dseentrue
loveforherfriends,butsomepeoplejustdidn’tgetahappilyeverafter.Thatwasokay…shelikedher
life.Shehadfiveniecesandtwonephews.Herlifewasrichinloveandonlylonelysometimes.

“Lettheromancebegin.”Wagnernoddedtothecafétablesetwithwhitelinenandgleamingcrystal

underatreeinthecourtyard.“Ipromisedyoulunch.”

“Iwasthinkingmoreofapo’boyfromMahoney’sonMagazine.”Sheshrugged.“Butthisiseven

better.”

“ShouldItryMahoney’s?”HelookedlikehewasaddingittoamentallistofthingstodoinNew

Orleans.

“Yes,it’sgood.Therearelotsoffantasticplacestoeatdowntown.”Shezeroedinonthetable.It

wassetbuttherewasn’tanyfood.“Whatarewehaving?”

“TheGumboShop.IorderedtwoCreoleCombinationPlatters.Youcan’tgowrongwithvariety.”

Heputhishandinthesmallofherbackandledhertothetable.

“Ican’targuewiththat.”Shelikedthefeelofhimnexttoher.
He pulled out the chair for her and placed her napkin in her lap. He’d gone all out. She was

impressed.HemightonlybetheretoromanceheronbehalfoftheDuplantisHouse,butshewasgoingto
enjoythehelloutofit.

HebentoveryetanotherYETIcoolerandpulledoutacarafeoficedtea.Hesetitonthetableand

reacheddownagain,bringinguptwofoil-coveredplates.Hesetoneinfrontofherandoneathisplace.
Heunwrappedherfoilandthescentsofshrimpcreole,jambalaya,andredbeanswafteduponthebreeze.
TheshadeofthetreekepttheOctobersunatbay.

“Thisisverynice.”Sheskippedthesaladforkandusedtheentréefork.Shestartedwiththecreole.

“I can see why Kassie in Dallas fell so in love with you. She used some very colorful language to
describethemanywaysshe’dliketokillyou.”

Heunwrappedhisplateandsatdown.“HowdoyouknowaboutKassie?”

Itwasgoodtoknowhehadsenseenoughnottopretendhedidn’tknowKassie.
“ThewebsiteLuckyfound.She’sveryupset.”Shespoonedinsomecreole.“Kassie,notLucky.”
“Kassietookourbreakupparticularlyhard.”HepouredhimselfandCharlieeachanicedteafrom

thecarafe.“TrustmewhenItellyouthatsheisn’taniceperson.”

“If your body washes up on the banks of the Mississippi River, my money’s on Marlow from

Denver.Thatwomandefinitelyhasaviolentstreak.She’sreallyproudofthatcollectionofmugshotsshe
gotfromstalkingyou.”Charlieshouldhavebeenputoffbyhislonglistofheartbrokenwomen,butshe
wasn’t.Itwasn’tthatshethoughtshewasdifferent;itwasonlythatshewasn’tinlovewithhimandnever
wouldbe.Hewasherenowandtheywerehavingfun.Oneday,hewouldleaveandshewouldmisshim,
butshe’dstartanewprojectandforgetallabouthim.Onedayatatime.

“Marlowwasparticularlydevotedtome.”Heusedasliceofbutteredbreadtomoveabitefullof

redbeansontohisfork.

Hewasabreadconvert.Scoreoneforthecarblovers.

“Whatyoudidtothemwasdespicable.”Shesippedhericedtea.Heneededtoknowherstanceon

hisprofessionrightupfront.

“I agree.” He sat back and wiped his mouth. “But you also don’t know the circumstances. Still,

you’reright.I’mnotaniceperson.”

Only,hedidseemlikeaniceperson.Thewholenice-guythingmustallbepartofhisact.Hewas

reallygood.

“I know you’re not here to scope out the property for a buyer. So how did you get a key to the

DuplantisHouse?”Nowthatthey’dcoveredthatsheknewwhohewasandwhathewasdoinghere,they
couldmoveon.

Heshookhishead.“Tradesecret.Let’sjustsaythatitwashardertogetthanitshouldhavebeen.”
“Haveyoubeeninside?DidyouhearAngeliquepacing?”Charliehadbeeninthathouseonlyonce

inherlife,andthathadbeentwentyyearsagoonadarefromLucky.Charliehadstayedforalloffive
seconds—longenoughtosatisfythedare,butnotlongenoughtogetbustedfortrespassing.Thehousehad
beenboardedupforatleastaslongasCharliehadbeenalive.

“No,Iwantedtowaitforyou.”Hedidn’tmakeeyecontact.

“You’rescaredtogointherealone.”Itwasfunny,hedidn’tstrikeherasascaredy-cat.“Ithought

youdidn’tbelieveinghosts.”

“Scaredissuchadirtyword.Howaboutcautious?Plus,Ididn’twanttohaveallofthefun.”He

scoopedupsomejambalayaandpoppeditinhismouth.“Thisisreallygood.”

“TheGumboShopisoneofmyfavoriteplaces.”Itwastouristybutstillwonderful.
“That’s what Mama said.” He used his bread to push a bite of creole onto his fork. “She would

havefixedmeupwithsomegumbobutitwasn’treadyyet.”

Charlie closed her eyes in memory of Mama’s gumbo and then opened them again. “I love her

gumbo.”

Itwassweetthathe’dgoneoutofhiswaytoaskMamawhatCharlieliked.
“Shetoldmethatalso.”Helookedratherproudofhimself.
“Icanseethatyouwanttopatyourselfontheback.”Shetookasipofhericedtea.“Goahead.I’m

veryimpressed.”

She was doing her best to not be charmed, but it was getting harder and harder. She needed to

rememberthathecharmedwomenforaliving—shewasjustanotherinalongline.

“What’swrong?”Hewipedhismouth.“Areyouallright?”

“Yes,ofcourse.”Shewipedherfacecleanofexpression.Shewouldnotfallforhim.
“Don’tdothat.”Heanalyzedherface.
“What?” She studied her plate and became very interested in eating. She’d spent a lot of time

learningtheartofnotshowingemotion.

“Cover up what you’re feeling with a smile.” He wasn’t going to drop the subject or let her off

easy.Shecouldfeelhiseyesonher.

“Idon’tknowwhatyoumean.”Shestilldidn’tlookup.

“Yes,youdo.”Therewasafullminuteofsilencebeforehesaid,“Idoittoo.”
Thatcaughtheroffguard.“Iguessyoucan’taffordtoshowwhatyou’refeelingeither.”
“Wemightbemorealikethaneitherofusiswillingtoadmit.”Gonewasthecharmingmanandin

hisplacewasavulnerableboy.

Justwhatsheneededtohear.Wow,hewasgood.Itwasprobablysosecondnaturethathedidn’t

evenknowhewasdoingit.Thiswasgoingtobeharderthanshe’dthought.Findingouttherealreasonhe
waswininganddiningherwasimportant,andshecertainlycouldn’tdoitifshelostsightofthegoal.

Speakingofgoals.Shecheckedtheclockonherphoneandpushedbackfromthetable.“Sorry,but

ifwe’regoingtoseetheinside,”shenoddedtowardthemainhouse,“andhopefullymeetAngelique,we
needtostartnow.”

Helookedlikehewantedtosaysomethingelsebutchangedhismindandstood.“Right.”
Hepulledthekeyoutofhisrighttrouserpocketandofferedherhisarm.Shetookit.

He leaned down and whispered closed to her ear, “I like you too, and that scares the hell out of

me.”

“Isn’tthat…”She’dbeenabouttosay,“Isn’tthatwhatyou’repaidtosay?”butshecouldn’tgetthe

wordstocomeoutofhermouth.“Isn’tthisnice?”

Shecouldsmileherwaythroughanything.

Hisbrowcrinkledintothreelinesashishandcametothesmallofherback.“Don’twanttotalk

aboutit.Messagereceived.”

Thetensionclungtothemlikethehumidityoutside,butshedidn’tknowexactlyhowtofixit.She’d

learnedlongagotonevershowhertruefeelingstoanyone—well,anyoneoutsideofherbestfriends.

He stuck the key in the back door’s lock, turned it until it clicked, and tried the knob. The door

didn’tbudge.Heputhisshoulderintoit.Onthethirdnudgeitpoppedopen.

HeleaneddownandpickedupthetwoblackMagliteflashlightsnexttothebackdoor.Obviously

he’dputthemthereearlier.Themanthoughtofeverything.Forallofhisfaults,hewasgoodathisjob,
she’dhavetogivehimthat.

He handed her one of the Maglites. She clicked the on button and a stream of light landed on a

fadedpaintingleaningagainstastaircasethatwasmissingseveraltreads.

“Damn,dudelookslikealady.”Wagner’sflashlightbeamjoinedCharlie’s.
“Ithinkit’stheotherwayaround.Ladylookslikeadude.”Carefuloftheancientfloorboards,she

pickedherwayovertothepainting.

“No way.” Wagner squatted down in front of the portrait. “I think you’re right. This person is…

wasfemale.”Heleanedincloser.“You’dthinkshewouldhavetoldthepaintertoleaveoutsomeofher
facialhair.”

Charlietuckedherskirtinclosetoherkneesandsquatteddownontheothersideofthepainting.

“Maybe female facial hair was the in thing—you know, like how chunky women were in during the
Baroqueperiod.”

She’d often thought she’d been born a little too late. She could have rocked a Rubenesque big

bottom. In fact, she could have eaten her weight in Hershey’s Kisses to maintain that bottom.
Unfortunately,theBaroqueperioddidn’thaveHershey’s.

Itwasalwayssomething.
“Ithinkit’sjustdust.”Gingerly,hetriedtocleanthecanvas.“Nope,shereallywaspaintedwith

facialhair.”

“Nowweknowwhythispaintingisstillhere.It’stoodamnuglytobestolen.”Chanceswerethis

wasaportraitofoneofherancestors.Charlietouchedherownupperlip,checkingforanyfacialhair.
Shemadeamentalnotetoresearchlaserhairremovalinapreemptivestrikeagainstalady-stache.

“Whataretheoddsthiswasleftherebyatravelingcarnival?Thiscouldbethebeardedlady.”He

soundedlikehewasreallytryingtoconvincehimselftobelieveit.

“Alwaystheoptimist.”Charliestood.“Ithinkthat’sAngelique’snieceMathilda.Ihaveacomplete

genealogybackonmycomputer.IthinkI’veseenthisportraitbefore.”Yep,sheneededtomakealaser
hairappointmentASAP.

Wagner looked at her and then the picture and then back at her. “No family resemblance

whatsoever.”

“ThankGod.”Charlieshinedherflashlightaroundthefrontentryway.Theplasterwaspeelingoff

the walls, the corbels holding up the parlor doorway looked tired and ready to crumble, and the floor,
which appeared to be heart of pine, was scuffed and splintering. “I bet this house was beautiful in its
heyday.”

“I know what you mean. The floors would have shined with polish and the plaster on the walls

wouldhavebeen,”hesteppedclosertothewallandheldhislightonit,“lightgreen.”

Sheshinedherlightonthegaslightingfixturesliningthewalls.“Gaslightswouldhavelitupthe

housefor,say…apartytolaunchthenow-of-agedaughterontothesocial—read,marriage—scene.”

Shecouldseeitinherhead.Lavishpartieswouldhavebeenheldrighthere,withformallydressed

youngladiesandgentlemenplayingcardsordancingandtheirfathers,wealthymerchantsandofficials,
discussingthebusinessofthecity.

Familyhistoryswirledthickandheavyallaroundher.Thehouseshelivedinnowhadbeeninher

family for as long as this one, but something about this house was special. Clearly, it had once been a
home full of both love and hardship. Her house was more like a museum than a home—untouched by
time…orlove.

Overhead,arhythmictapping,likefeetpacingaroom,camethroughthewalls.

CharlielookedatWagnerandhelookedather.Theysaidinunison,“Angelique.”
The clomping froze and so did they. No one made a sound as they listened for some evidence of

Angelique.

Finally, Charlie felt she had to speak. “Angelique, I’m your niece. We’re not here to hurt you.

Everything’s going to be fine.” Charlie only felt mildly stupid talking to a possible ghost. She one-
eyebrow-uppedatWagner.“Saysomething.”

“Likewhat?”hesaidunderhisbreath.
“Justtellheryou’renotheretohurther,”Charliewhisperedback.
Wagner cleared his throat. “Hello, Angelique, I’m Wagner Scott from Los Angeles. How are you

today?”

“Yousoundlikeapsychologistsittingherdownforherfirstsession.”Charliesteppedbehindhim

andmassagedthetensionfromthemusclesinhisneck.“Relax.”

“We’reheretohelpyouinanywaywecan.”HerelaxedbackintoCharlie’stouch.“Ifyouneed

anything,justletusknow.I’mattheguesthouse,socomeoveranytime.”

Itsoundedlikehewasinvitinghertotheneighborhoodcrawfishboil.
“Shouldwegoupstairs?”Charlie’sflashlightlitupthestaircase.Wasitjustherordidthewhole

thingtilttotheleft.Alopsidedstaircasedidn’tlooklikeagoodidea.Sheturnedaroundandshinedher
flashlightatWagner’schesttokeepfromblindinghim.“Whatdoyouthinkaboutthestairway?”

Hislipsweremashedtogether.

“Okay,comeon,whatisit?”Shemashedherownlipstogethertokeepfromlaughing.Itwasclear

hewastryingtokeepanotherbadpickuplinefrompoppingout.

“I’dliketolickmywayupyourstairwaytoheaven.”Heclosedhiseyesandpinchedthebridgeof

hisnose.“It’slikemymindshutsoffsometimes.Icouldn’tgetmybraintomoveontothenextthought.
Clearly,Ineedsomesortofmedication.”

“Butwhataboutgoingupthestairs?”Itwasterrible,butshelovedhisembarrassment.

“Ithinkthosestairsarehangingonbyatread.”Hetookastepbackandshookhishead.“NowI’m

talkinginpuns.”

“Maybeit’sthebread.It’sbeenknowntorenderpeoplespeechless,onlyinyourcaseit’stheother

wayaround.”Sheshoulder-bumpedhim.“Wantmetokissitandmakeitbetter?”

“Yes…no…wait…what?”Helookeddownather,befuddled,andthenswipedahandacrosshis

mouth.“Sorry,Ijustkeeppicturingyoukissingmewhilewearingnothingbutthosemile-highredshoes
andIthoughttheremightbedrool.”Themeaningofhiswordssunkinandthelookofhorroronhisface
waspriceless.Heopenedhismouthtosaysomething,thoughtaboutit,andclosedit.Hewasstilllooking
atherbutappearedtobelostinthought.

Hismindwasthoroughlyinthegutter.Toherknowledge,she’dneverinspiredsuchgutterthoughts

before.

Afteragoodtwominutes,hetookherhandandgentlypulledheroutintothebrightOctoberday.

“Butwedidn’tgettoseetherestofthehouse.”Shestoodontheunevenbricksofthecourtyardas

heclosedandlockedthedoor.

“We’llcomebacklater,possiblywithachaperone.”Hehadadazedexpressiononhisface,like

he’dbeensmackedintheheadbyatwo-by-four.“Don’tyouneedtogetgoing?”

Shecheckedtheclockonherphone.“Yes,butIstillhavealittletime.”
“Idon’twantyoutobelate.”Hepracticallypulledhertothepassenger’ssideofthecarandthrew

herinbeforerunningovertohissideofthecarandgettingbehindthewheel.

“What about the food?” She pointed to the table, where the remains of the food had drawn the

attentionofseveralflies.

“I’llcleanituplater.”Hethrewthecarinreverseandstompedonthegas.Thetiressquealed.
“Areyouokay?”Shelookedhimover.“You’reactingalittlefunny.”
Nowhelookedpaleasasheet,almostlikehe’dseenaghost.

“Wait, did you see Angelique?” She tried not to sound disappointed. It was totally uncool of

Angelique to show herself to him and not to her. Then again, they had been standing close together.
Shouldn’tshehaveseenhertoo?

“No,Ididn’tseeAngelique.”Hekepthiseyesontheroadanddidn’tsomuchasglanceherway.

Tenminuteslater,hedroppedheroffinfrontofherofficebuilding.Somethinghadrattledhimsomuch
thatheevenforgottoopenthecardoorforher.

Charliehadasickfeelingshe’djustseenthelastofWagnerScott.Shetoldherselfthatshewasn’t

sad,thatitwasforthebest.Hermindknewthatwastrue,butherheartwasn’tlistening.

Chapter10

Wagnerbrokeallland-speedrecordsgettingtoJeromeBreaux’soffice.Heturnedintotheparkinggarage
forCajunTaterChips,Jerome’scompany,andpulledintothefirstavailablespace.

AttheDuplantisHouse,hehadn’tseenthepast,he’dseenthefuture.
WalkingintothathousewithCharlie,hecouldseeitredone—notasithadbeen,butasitcouldbe.

Thiswouldbetheirhouse.Justlikeheroffice,therewouldbeafunmixofantiquesandnewfurniture.
Pictures,bothfamilyportraitsandphotographsoftheirlifetogether,wouldfillthewallswithmemories.
Inhismind’seye,he’dseenaverypregnantCharlielumberingdownthestairs,laughingathimtryingto
help her. And then his mind had taken it further: a little girl of about five with Charlie’s dark-brown
ringletsandcute-as-a-buttonnoseandhisgreeneyes.Thelittlegirlhadhimbythehandandwasleading
himdownthestairstoattendtheteapartyshe’dsetupinwhatshouldhavebeentheformaldiningroom
buttheyusedasaplayroom.

Itwasanicelife…ahappylife…thelifehewanted…alifehewouldneverhave.
Hehadn’tbeenfreakedoutbythepossibilityofaghost,butthepossibilityofthefuture.He’dhad

togetoutoftherebeforehetrippedonafloorboard,felltooneknee,andproposedmarriagetoCharlie.

Itwasoverwhelmingtofallinloveforthefirsttimeattheageofthirty-five.Hesatup.

HewasinlovewithCharlie.OfcoursehewasinlovewithCharlie.He’dthoughthedidn’tbelieve

inloveatfirstsight,buthehadtoadmitthathe’dfallenforhertheverymomentshe’dspiltbeeronhim.

Thiswastheworst-casescenario.

Orthebestthingthathadeverhappenedtohim.
Itwastooearlytotell.
Only,he’dbeenhiredbyamanwhohatedCharlieandhadpaidhimtodestroyher.Wagnerneeded

totellherthetruth.Hisstomachlurchedandtheredbeanshe’deatennotanhouragothreatenedtomake
anencoreappearance.

WhenhetoldCharliethetruth,thislifehewantedsoverybadlywouldbegone.Justimaginingthe

hurtonherfacemadetheredbeansrumblearound.

Anywayhelookedatthesituation,Charliewasgoingtohatehim.Therewasn’tascenariowhere

shedidanythingbutpunchhiminthenoseandwalkaway.Allofthehorriblethingshe’ddoneinhispast
werecatchinguptohim.Allofthewomenhe’dhurtweregettingtheirrevenge.He’dfinallyfoundtheone
personhewantedtosharehislifewith,onlyshedidn’tbelieveinlove.

Hiscellphonebuzzedonsilentmode.Heworkeditoutofhisfrontrighttrouserpocket.Hereally

didneedsomejeans.Hismother’sfacesmiledupathimfromthesmartphonescreen.Hetappedanswer.

“There was a tremor in the mom force. What’s going on?” His mother, Joann Wagner-Scott, took

motherhoodandStarWarsveryseriously.Shehadwhatshecalledthe“momforce”àlaLukeSkywalker.
Whenever she felt a tremor in the mom force, she gave Wagner a call. The mom force seemed to only
workwithoneofherkids,becausesheneverseemedtofeelitwhenSawyerwasintrouble.Thenagain,
hewasalwaysintrouble,somaybeshefiltereditoutlikewhitenoise.

“Imetsomeone.”Itwasoutbeforehisbrainhadtimetoshutoffhismouth.

“Really?”Hecouldhearherbroadsmile.“What’sshelike?”
“Funny,charming,unpredictable,smart,beautiful,perfect.”God,hesoundedlikealovesickfool.

“Shedoesn’tletmegetawaywithanything.”

“Ilikeheralready.”Adoorslammedonhismother’sendofthecall.“Ionlyhaveabouttenmore

minutes until third period.” His mother was the best middle school science teacher in Roseville,
California.“So,amIfinallygoingtohavesomegrandchildren?”

It took all he had not to tell her about the five-year-old girl with ringlets whose name was

AngeliqueCherie.Howinthehellhadheknownthat?Itjustcametohim,justlikeheknewtheywould
haveanotherlittlegirl,withhisblondehair,whosenamewouldbeCherry-KateJoann.

God,helovedthemalready,andtheydidn’texistoutsideofhisimagination.Heneededtherapyand

Prozacandprobablyabrainscan.

“Ithinkit’salittleearlyforthat.”Herestedhisforeheadonthesteeringwheel.Hefeltvulnerable

andlost.Hardworkandfocushadalwaysgottenhimwhathewanted,onlynow,hedidn’tthinkeitherof
thosethingswouldgethimalifewithCharlie.

Hewasn’ttooself-absorbedtoenjoytheirony.Dozensofwomenhadfalleninlovewithhim,but

he’dfalleninlovewiththeonewomanwho’dtoldhimupfrontthatshewouldn’tfallinlovewithhim.

“WhendoIgettomeether?”OfcoursehismotherwouldwanttomeetCharlieandwouldloveher

onsight,butitmightbealittlehardtocasuallypulloff.

“Givemealittletime.Ihaven’tknownherthatlong.Itmightbetoomuchpressureforher.”And

waymorepressurethanheneeded.

“Whatexactlyistheproblem?”Hismotherneverbeataroundabushwhenitwaseasiertomowit

downandkeepgoing.“Whatareyounottellingme?”

“There’salotI’mnottellingyou.There’salotI’mnevergoingtotellyou.”Likeaboutallofthe

womenhe’dromancedorwhathereallydidforaliving.Sure,sheknewhewasanattorney,butthatwas
it.Elaborationwasn’tnecessary,becauseifsheknewthetruth,she’dkillhim.Hesmiledtohimself.She
andCharliewerealotalike—theyhadprinciplestheynevercompromised,andtheyexpectedthebestout
ofthepeopletheycaredabout.He,ontheotherhand,hadprinciplesthatwerefluid.

“All I need to know is that she makes you happy.” His mother’s tone suggested that there was a

whole lot more she needed to know, only, she was willing to wait until she had more time. “She does
makeyouhappy?”

“Yes,veryhappy.”Hesmiledwhenhesaidit.Itwasmorethanhappiness.Charliefeltlikehome.

Hewantedhertobehisrewardattheendofaveryhardday…hisguiltypleasure.

“Do you see yourself growing old with her?” It was like his mother really did have mom force

powersbecauseimagininggrowingoldwithherwasallhewasabletodorightnow.

“Yes.”Itwassuchasimpleanswertosuchacomplexissue.
“Thenhurrythehellup.IneedsomegrandchildrentospoilbeforeI’mtoooldtoenjoythem.”The

schoolbellrang.“Ihavetogo.Iloveyou.”

“Loveyoutoo.”Hewaitedforhertohangup,andthenhedidthesame.
Forhismothereverythingwassimple:WagnerlovedCharlie,thereforetheyshouldbetogether.If

onlyreallifewerelikethat.

Heopenedhiscardoor,stoodandwenttobuttonhissuitjacketonlytofindthathewasn’twearing

it,andclosedthecardoor.ThesoonerhegottheunpleasantnesswithJeromeover,thesoonerhecould
startwooingCharlie.Untilnow,he’donlywooedforwork;nowhewaswooingforpleasure.Hesmiled
tohimself.Shethoughthewascharming—well,shehadn’tseencharmingyet.ForMs.CharlieGuidry,he
waspullingoutallthestops.

Ten minutes later, he was sitting on one of the black leather sofas in the waiting area outside of

Jerome’soffice.Thewallswerecoveredinframedposter-sizedadsofJeromeholdingbagsofdifferent
flavorsofpotatochips.Wagnerhadtriedsomeofthecreolegarlicandonionchips.Theywereokay—
nothingspecialandreallygarlicky.He’ddefinitelyfeltprotectedagainstvampiresthatday.

HepickedupaSportsIllustratedandthumbedthroughit.IfhereallycaredwhatJeromethought,

he’dbenervous.Thiscould,afterall,ruinhisbusiness.Oncewordgotoutthathe’dbackedawayfroma
jobandrefundedaclient,hisbusinesswouldtakeahit.He’dbuilthisreputationonhiswillingnesstoget
his hands dirty. Since he would no longer be romancing women, his business would almost certainly
suffer.Butcontrarytopopularbelief,romancingwomenwasn’tallhedid.

InaperfectworldwhereCharlieactuallydidforgivehimandfallinlovewithhim,whatwould

thatmeanforhisbusiness?He’dspentagoodportionofhislifebuildingit,andnowhe’dhavetoleaveit
behind.Theirlifewashere,inNewOrleans.Hecouldfeelit.Thinkingback,he’dfeltathometheminute
he’dsteppedofftheplaneatLouisArmstrongInternationalAirport.Itwasn’tjustCharlie—well,yes,it
wasmostlyCharlie,butNewOrleansfeltsofamiliar.

Waitaminute.Heclosedthemagazine.Surelythestatewiththemostcorruptpoliticalsysteminthe

UnitedStatesneededafixer.Thisstatewasrifewithscandalsthatneededtobebrushedundertherug.
Andhewasanattorney.True,he’dneedtotaketheLouisianabar.Hepulledouthisphoneandgoogled
therankingsforthedifficultyofstatebarexams.CaliforniawasnumberoneandLouisianawasnumber
four. It would take some studying, but he could do it. Did he really want to practice law in the
conventional sense? It wasn’t his first choice, but hell, he’d do whatever it took to make a life with
Charlie.

Was he willing to be a househusband? Now that was an interesting question. Would he give up

everythingandstayhomewiththekids?Hewantedtothinkthathewasaliberatedman,buthismindjust
couldn’tmaketheleaptoherearningalloftheirmoney.

Awomaninherearlysixtieswearingtoomuchmakeupandawell-cutvintageChanelsuitstepped

infrontofhim.Ifmemoryserved,shewasAnnette,Jerome’sassistant,whomthemanhadactuallycalled
hissecretary.“He’llseeyounow.”

Shewasveryformal,andWagnerdecidedthatshe’dprobablyboughtthatsuitnewandhadeither

hungontoitforaverylongtimeinthehopesitwouldcomeintofashionagain,orworeitregularlywith
nocareatallforfashion.

He stood and caught himself before he tried to button his suit jacket again. How long before his

muscleslosttheirmusclememory?“Thankyou.”

HefollowedherintoJerome’soverlylarge,overlydecoratedoffice.Therewereentirelytoomany

dead animals mounted on the walls, poised to attack from the floor, and resting viciously on every
surface.Wagnerwasn’topposedtohunting,butitdidn’tlooklikeJeromehuntedforfood—onlyforsport.

Jerome stood, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “All of the New Orleans gossip blogs are

buzzing about Charlie Guidry and her new man. There are pictures of the two of you dancing at the
FoundersBalllastnight.”IfJeromehadbeenahugger,he’dhavepulledWagnerinforatightone.“Good
job.Ittookthelastguyalmostamonthtogethertogooutwithhim.”

JeromemotionedforWagnertosit,buthechosetocontinuestanding.
Hefelttheneedtotakeashowerbecausehefeltsoslimy.

“That’swhyI’mhere.Ican’tworkforyouanymore.”Therewasnoneedtospendanymoretime

withthishorriblemanthanabsolutelynecessary.

“Why?”Jerome looked likehe’d just losthis favorite toy. Asly smile curledon his lips. “Don’t

worry.Icanseeyourworth.I’lldoublewhatI’mpayingyou.You’veearnedit.”Heopenedahumidoron
his desk and picked up a cigar. “I can see you’re as good as your reputation.” He offered Wagner the
cigar.“They’reCuban.”

“Nothanks.AndIdon’twantmoremoney.MycontractspecificallystatesthatImayterminatethe

arrangementatanytime.I’mterminatingourarrangement.I’llhavemyassistantcutyouacheckforthe
advance you paid me.” Crap, he hadn’t thought about his assistant. Claire was amazing. What were the
chancesshe’dliketomovetoNewOrleanstoo?

Jeromeputtheunlitcigardown.“What’sthisabout?”
“Nothing.MycontractoffersmeanoutandI’mtakingit.Ican’tdeliveronouragreement.Ican’tin

good conscious take your money.” He went to button his jacket again, damn it, but it wasn’t there. He
didn’tofferhishandforahandshake.“Thankyouforyourtime.”

Not wanting or caring about a response, he stepped out into the hallway and didn’t stop walking

untilhereachedhiscar.He’dneverfeltbetteraboutanythinginhislife.

NowifhecouldonlyconvinceCharliethathereallywasagoodman.Hewasundernodelusions

thatshewouldn’tfindoutabouthisdealwithJerome,butheprayedthatwhenshedid,she’datleastgive
himachancetoexplain.

Chapter11

CharliesatatherdeskandtriedtoconcentrateonwhatTrentAverywassaying.Hishandlebarmustache
remindedherofhernextdoorneighbor’syorkie,Mr.Buttons.Ittookallshehadnottocallthemustache
Mr.Buttons.

Trentlookedatherexpectantly,soshenodded.Shedidn’tknowwhatshewasnoddingto,andshe

hopedshehadn’tjustagreedtosignoverthefamilyfortune.

Trentseemedsatisfiedwithhernodandcontinuedtalking.“TheoilandgasindustryinLouisianais

goingtohell.ThefederalgovernmenthastiedourhandsandOPECisundercuttingus.”Itappearedthathe
wasjustgettingwarmedup.“I’vehadtolayoffdamnnearhalfmyworkers…”

Shetriedsuperhardtopayattention,butallofthecarbsfromlunchwerecatchinguptoherandhis

mustachereallydidlooklikeMr.Buttons.MaybeitwasMr.Buttons.She’donlyeverseenthelittledog
at night. What if after Trent fell asleep, his mustache made a break for it so it could roam the streets
lookingforflowerstodigup?Surely,thenextmorningTrentwouldnoticeallofthedirtonhismustache.
Thenagain,hewasamanandtheydidn’tnoticemuch.

“AllI’msayingisthatweshouldfightharder…”Heshowednosignsofslowingdown.
Shenoddedagain.Noideawhattheyneededtofighthardfor,butshefiguredthatifonemustfight,

itshouldbehard.

HermindwanderedtothetopicofWagner.Whathadfreakedhimoutsomuchthathe’ddonehis

besttogetawayfromher?She’dshoweredandbrushedherteeththismorning,soitcouldn’tbepersonal
hygiene.Wasitthehouse?MaybeAngelique?

No,he’dsaidthathehadn’tseenher.

Wasitsomethingelse?
He’d been all gung ho to go inside and seemed fine at first, but then he’d lost his marbles and

practicallytrippedoverthemtogetbackoutintothesunshine.Maybehewasclaustrophobic?Ifhehad
thatsevereofacase,howcouldhebeconfinedinacarorevenliveinside?

Thewholesituationmadenosense.

“Iagree,itmakesnosense.”Trentshookhishead.
Charliedidn’tthinkshe’dsaidanythingoutloud,andTrentwasstillrailingonaboutsomething.
“Imean,comeon.Whendidanyonecomeoutbetterafterataxaudit?”Hegesturedwildlywithhis

hands.ItmadeMr.Buttonstwitch.“Exactly.”

Apparentlyshewasshakingherheadincommiseration.
Whenhadtheysubject-hoppedfromoilandgastotheIRS?

“Yep, no sense. You’re a smart lady.” He rested both hands on her desk and leaned forward. “I

knowthatJesussaidtoturntheothercheek,butIdon’tthinkhewastalkingabouttheIRS.”

Charlienoddedagain.Sheneededtolethimventsoshecouldcollectonhispromiseofacampaign

donation.

“Well,I’vebentyourearlongenough.Ishouldletyougetbacktowork.”Hisrighthandreached

intohissuitjacketpocketandpulledoutafoldedpieceofpaper.God,ithadbetterbeacheck.Shetried
to discreetly check the time on the wall clock, but there was no way to do that without breaking eye

contact.Sinceeyecontactmadepeoplethinkshewaslistening,shealwayskeptitforaslongaswasn’t
awkward.Therewasafinelinebetweeneyecontactandastaringcontest.

Heslidthepieceofpaperacrossthedesk.“Ireallydoappreciateyouandyourfather’scontinued

support.”

“Andweappreciateyours.”Afoldedcheckmeantthatitwasn’tasmuchaslasttime.Sheknewthe

rules. Never open the folded check or the envelope holding the money until the donor has cleared the
room.Notonlywasitgoodmanners,itwasgoodbusiness.

Trent’shandwenttodoffahathewasn’twearing.“AreyousureIcan’ttalkyouintodinner?”

Since she’d almost married one of her father’s campaign donors, now they all felt she was fair

game.

“Will your wife be joining us?” There wasn’t a chance in hell she was joining him for anything.

Theclosestshewouldcometotouchinghimwaswhensheusedtherubberstamptoendorsethebackof
hischeck.

“No,unfortunately,she’sinShreveportvisitinghersister.”Helookedsohopeful.Itwaspathetic.

“I’msorry,Ihaveasave-the-spotted-woodpeckerfundraiserthisevening.”Shewalkedhimtothe

doorandhelditopenforhim.“Maybenexttimeyou’reintown.”

ThankGodforthespottedwoodpecker.Whoevenknewwhetheritexisted,butithadsuresaved

herbuttafewtimes.

Hewalkedout,shouldersslumped,facecrestfallen.
Hehadtobeoldenoughtobehergrandfather.
Sheclosedthedoorandsatbehindherdeskandpulleduphere-mail.Grouponwasofferingatwo-

carat wedding-ring set for two thousand dollars. She clicked on the e-mail. Who bought their wedding
ringsonGroupon?Thebetterquestionwas,whatpersonintheirrightmindwouldmarrysomeonewho’d
boughtthemostimportantringofalifetimeonGroupon?Charliewasallforsavingmoney,butthiswas
goingalittletoofar.

“Youcan’tgointhere.”Aliciasoundedevensnottierthanusual.
“Wannabet?”ItwasLucky’svoice.
Charliegrinnedassheflewoutofherchairandintothereceptionarea.Bettswasstandingnextto

Lucky.WithoutevenaglanceatAlicia,shewalkedherfriendsbackintoheroffice,closedthedoor,and
theygrouphugged.

Bettsletgofirstandsteppedback.“Wecanonlystayovernight,butourCharlieradarwasgoingoff

sowehadtocome.”

“There’snothingwrong.I’mgood.”Charlieputonherbrightestsmile.

“Yep,she’sfine.That’snotafakesmile.Notatall.”Luckyrolledhereyes.
“Okay,theremightbeasmallhiccupinmyplantofigureoutwhyWagnerScottistargetingme.”It

wasn’therfault.Shewasallnormal;hewasthecrazyone.

“Good,Ithinkthetwoofyoushouldgoyourseparateways.”Bettspointedtothegardengnomethat

hadbeenmovedfromhishomeunderthesatsumatreesandtakenupresidencebyCharlie’sprinter.“Jer-
gnomelookssogoodinyouroffice.”

“AllIgotwassomecrappyphallicpotteryandshegetsthis?”LuckypickedupJer-gnome.“That’s

notfair.”

“Andhavingkidswhoconstantlybemoanthatlife’snotfairhasn’ttaughtyouanything?”Bettstook

Jer-gnomefromLuckyandsethimdown.Withallthegravityofaparenttellingtheirkidthetruthabout

SantaClaus,sheputahandonLucky’sshoulder.“Ineedtotellyousomethingthat’sveryimportant.Life’s
notfair.”Shenodded,gravelykeepingupthecharade.“Andyoursisonbackorder.”

Lucky jumped up and down and clapped her hands. She glanced at Charlie and said with lots of

self-satisfaction,“IgetaDickyDicklandandaJer-gnome.”

“I’msooooojealous.”Charlie’stonesuggestedotherwise.
“Backtothehiccupbetweenyouand,”Bettsthrewupsomeairquotes,“‘thefixer.’What are we

talkingabouthere?”

“Nothing, he just freaked out. We were having lunch outside of the Duplantis House and then we

wentin—”

“Hetookyouonadatetoahauntedhouse?”Lucky’swholefacesquintedlikeshe’djustchuggedan

entirebottleofapplecidervinegar.“What’snext?SexonMarieLaveau’sgrave?”Sheshookherhead.
“Thethingsyoukidsareintothesedays.”

Charliestuckouthertongue.“Anyway,wewentinside,weheardAngeliquewalkingaround,and

wewerehavingagreattime,andthenhefreaked.Hecouldn’tgetawayfrommefastenough.”

“Hallelujah.Wewerejustabouttovotehimofftheislandanyway.”BettsleanedagainstCharlie’s

desk.“Youdealwithpoliticiansallday.Shouldn’tyoubeoveryourlimitonslimy?”

“Yes,butWagnerisdifferent.”Charliewasn’tgoingaboutthistherightway.Shehadtomakethem

understandthatthiswasjustbusiness.

Lucky’s eyes turned so huge that it looked like they might fall out of her head. She pointed at

Charlie.“Youlikehim.”

“No,it’sjustbusiness.”Buttheyallknewshewaslying.“Okay,maybealittle.”
Itwasokaytolikehimalittle.Shelikedstraydogsalittletoo.

BettsputahandoneithersideofCharlie’sfaceandstaredintohereyes.“Youlikehimmorethana

little.”

“Letmego.Ifeellikeyou’reBellaLugosilook-into-my-eyeshypnotizingme.”Charliedidn’twant

tofacethefactthatshemightlikeWagnermorethanjustalittle.

Bettsdroppedherhands.

“Now,justholdon.Thisisn’ttheendoftheworld.”Luckyslunganarmaroundbothofherfriends.

“DoesanyonefinditoddthatI’mthevoiceofreason?”

“Clearlytheworldisabouttoend.”Betts’seyesrolleduplikeshewaslookingforGodtosend

downacoupleofboltsoflightning.

“It is pretty frightening.” Charlie leaned her head on Lucky’s shoulder. “I do like him. It sucks. I

knowwhatheisandIstilllikehim.I’mjustlikethosewomenonthatwebsitewhoeachthinktheyarethe
onewhocanchangehim.Iknowit,butIcan’thelpit.”

Betts reached around Lucky and patted the top of Charlie’s head. “Still don’t know who hired

him?”

“Nope,butI’msureitwasn’tJer-gnomeorhisnamesake.”Charliewaslikeninetypercentsure.

“Whyareyousosure?”Luckydidn’tbelieveher,butinallfairness,itwasherjobnottobelieve

anyoneaboutanything.

“HetoldmeJeromehadn’thiredhim.”Charliecringedatherownwords.“Wow,whendidIturn

intoasap?”

“It’s okay, we love you anyway.” Betts was always up for comforting someone, whether they

wanteditornot.

“Here’swhatwe’regoingtodo.”Luckydroppedherhands.“BeforeIrevealtheidea,I’minvoking

theMarilyns’OneHundredPercentParticipationRule.”

“Ohcrap.”Bettssigheddramatically.Bettshadcorneredthemarketondramaticsighs.“Howbad

arewetalking?Locallockup,federalprison,orserioushardtime?”

“That’s only if we get caught.” Lucky thought about it for a couple of beats. “You know, it could

qualifyforalloftheabove.”

“I can tell I’m not going to like this.” Charlie hated getting arrested. Not that she’d ever been

arrested,butthewholeprocessseemedtime-consumingandpossiblyunsanitary.

“We’renotreallygoingtokillWagner,right?BecauseIjustgotmynailsdone.”Bettsfannedher

fingersoutsoeveryonecouldadmirehershinycoralfingernailswithlittlerhinestonehearts.

“No,we’renotgoingtokillhim.We’regoingtobreakintohisroomandfindoutwhatthehellis

goingon.”Luckywasallcalm,likeshe’djustsuggestedtheyhavechaiteainsteadofcoffee.

CharliethoughtitwasabadideatobreakandenterwhilewearingawhiteMarilynMonroedress,

blackheels,andablondewig.Cometothinkofit,breakingandenteringinanyoutfitwasabadidea,but
Luckyhadinvokedtheparticipationrule,sotherewasnothingshecoulddo.“InfullMarilyndress?”

“Didyoureallyjustaskmethat?”
“Right, dumb question.” Charlie opened her bottom desk drawer and got out her purse. She had

afternoonappointments,butfriendstookprecedence.“Let’sgetitoverwith.”

“Whatifhe’shome?”BettslookedatCharlielikeshewassupposedtostopthis.
“Please.”Luckyshotheralook.“Likethisisourfirstbreakingandentering.”
“Good point.” Betts did not look pleased. “I’m in, not like I have a vote or anything. I vote we

abolishtheOneHundredPercentParticipationRule.”

“Metoo.”Charliewasgettingtoooldforthis.
“Whiners.”Luckyrolledhereyes.“Let’sgetgoing,we’reburningdaylight.”
LuckyandBettswalkedoutofCharlie’soffice.Charlieslippedherpursefirmlyonhershoulder

andfollowedthem.Herfatherwouldhaveafitwhenhelearnedshe’dleftworkearly,butshedidn’tcare.
Shefrozeandtookstock.Yep,shereallydidn’tcarewhathethought.

CharliestoppedinfrontofAlicia,whowastypingsomething—probablyaspyreport.“I’mtaking

therestofthedayoff.Pleasecancelmyfouro’clock.”

Aliciadidn’tlookupfromhertyping.“Yourfatherisn’tgoingtolikethis.”

Quick as a snake, Lucky snatched the keyboard out from under her hands. “You need to call Ms.

Guidry’sfouro’clockbeforeIbreakyourfingers.”Luckysmiledsweetly.

AliciaglancedatCharlie.“Issheforreal?”
“Doyoureallywanttofindout?”BettsmatchedLucky’ssticky-sweetsmile.

Aliciasatup,pickedupthephone,andstarteddialing.
Charliepressedtheend-callbutton,leanedoverthedesk,andsaid,“Iknowyou’resleepingwith

myfatherandyouthinkthataffordsyousomeleeway,butitdoesn’t.Yousignedaconfidentialityclause
andyouworkforme.Allthingsthattranspireinthisofficeareconfidential,evenfrommyfather.Ifyou
don’tlikeit,byallmeansleave.ButifIfindthatyou’vedivulgedanythingtoanyone,I’llmakesureeven
WaffleHousewon’thireyoutowaittables.”CharliehadaPhDinsticky-sweetsmiles.

Alicia’sfaceturnedaveryunattractiveshadeofmashedpotato.“Yes,ma’am.”
“Iloveitwhensheturnsallbitchy.”ThistimeBetts’ssmilewasreal.

“Can I fire her?” Lucky turned hopeful eyes on Charlie. “Pretty please with sugar on top?” She

gave Charlie her best boo-boo face. “I need the practice. Donald asked me to take over on The
Apprentice.”

“Really?”Bettsputahandoverherheart.“I’msohappyforyou.Areyougoingtotakeit?”

“Hellno,butitwasnicetobeasked.”LuckywinkedatAlicia.“Dodgedabullettoday,butthere’s

alwaystomorrow.”

“Ihaveeverythingundercontrol.Don’tworryaboutthingshere.I’lltellyourfouro’clockyou’re

notfeelingwell.”Aliciadialedthephoneagain.

“Thankyou.”CharlieturnedherbackonAlicia.Shehadafeelingthatfromnowonherassistant’s

on-the-jobperformancewasgoingtobemuchbetterthaniteverhadbeen.

ShenoddedtoBettsandLucky.“Let’sgotomyhouseandgetchanged.”
SomethinginCharlie’slifehadchangedtoday.Shenolongercaredwhatherfatherthoughtofher.

Theweightoffofhershoulderswasamazing.Shefeltthatshecoulddoanything.Whyhadittakenherso
longtocuttheapronstrings?

Chapter12

Wagnerpulledintohisparkingspotinfrontoftheguesthouse.Heglancedupbutnolightshinedfromthe
atticoftheDuplantisHouse.He’dhalfexpectedtoseeAngeliquewavingfromtheatticwindow,butthere
wasnothingtherebutdarkglass.

Nowthathewasromancingawomanforrealandnotbusiness,hehadnoideawhathewasdoing

orwhathisnextmovewouldbe.

He put the car in park, turned off the engine, and noticed movement behind the curtain of the

windowintheliving-roomareaofhisguesthouse.Thesilhouetteofafemaleformdartedpastthesheer
curtains.EitherAngeliquehadtakenhimuponhisoffertodropbyanytime,orarealpersonwasinside.
Hescannedthecarforanytypeofweapon,butsadlyhissmartphonewasallhehadwithhim.

Hegrabbedthephoneandquietlyclosedthecardoor.Whoeverwasintheremustknowthathewas

outside.Theguesthousewallswerepaperthin.

He felt around his pockets for his key but couldn’t find it, so he tested the knob. The door was

unlocked.Hethrewthedooropenandjumpedinside,TV-ninjaskillsattheready.

Mama Cherie, blonde hair piled high, looked up from a file she was leafing through. “Wow, that

waspartJamesBondandpartMickJagger.”

Shemadeitsoundlikehe’ddisturbedher.
“You’retrespassing.”Heglancedaround.“Atleastyou’reneatafterbreakingandentering.”

“I didn’t break anything.” She reached into her cleavage and pulled out a key. “I borrowed your

key.”

“Youpickpocketedme?”He’dneverbeenpickpocketedbefore.Hehadn’tfeltathing.Hehadto

admitthatitwasimpressive.

“Yep.”Neitherdenialnorguiltshowedonherface.Shewaggledamanilafilefolderathim.“Care

toexplainthis?”

ItwasthefileJeromehadgivenhim,andhereallydidnotcaretoexplainit.“Youneedtoleave…

now.”Hepointedtothedoor.

Shesatonthesofaacrossfromhisbed.“I’mnotgoinganywhere.”
Hehelduphisphone.“I’mcalling9-1-1.”

“Oh goody.” She clapped her hands. “Today’s Thursday, so Elroy’ll be manning the desk. He’ll

sendJenkinsandBertrandbecausethey’reprobablyclosest.EveryoneknowsthatBertrandhasathingfor
one of the strippers at Déjà Vu, and Jenkins does whatever Bertrand tells him to do.” She nodded. “I
know,it’sanoutrage—twoofNewOrleans’sfinestholdingupbarstoolswhileonthejob.It’sterrible,
butwhatcanyoudo?”Sheshruggedoneshoulder.

Hehadabsolutelynoresponsetothat.WhilehelovedNewOrleans,itwasastrangeplace.When

itcametobeingweird,itcouldgiveLosAngeles—maybeevenHollywood—arunforitsmoney.

Sheheldupthefile.“WhyareyouromancingCharlieonbehalfofJeromeBreaux?”Shesetthefile

down.“You’rebetterthanthat.”

Hefeltthesmallesttwangatthethoughtthatshewasdisappointedinhim.
“I’m not working for him anymore.” He knew Mama was a huge part of Charlie’s life, and she

wouldbesuretotellCharliethetruth.Whatwerethechanceshe’dbeabletowinMamaovertohisside?
Christ,didhehaveaside?“Ijustquit.”

“Uhhuh,sure.DoIlooklikeanidiot?”SheglancedatherreflectionintheTV.“IthinkIlookhot

andnothinglikeanidiot.”

“It’s true. About me quitting. You can…” He was about to say call Jerome, but Jerome wasn’t

likelytobehelpful.TherewasnoproofthatWagnernolongerworkedforJerome.Hehadnoideahow
ClairehadsentJerome’smoneyback.Ifitwasbycheck,wouldMamawaituntilafteritclearedtosee
thatthefundshadbeenreturned?

MamafoldedherarmsandglaredatWagner.“IloveCharlielikeadaughter.Infact,atthemoment,

Ilovehermorethanmyowndaughter.”Shethrewupahandandshookherhead.“Don’task.Anyway,
whenIranyourfingerprintsandfoundoutthatyou’resomekindofRayDonovanwannabe—”

“Letmejuststopyourightthere.NomatterwhereIgo,it’salwaysthesamething.RayDonovanis

fiction. This might be hard to believe, but Hollywood didn’t get it right. There isn’t some knuckle-
dragginggangsterwithaheartofgoldcleaningupHollywoodmesseswithabriefcasefullofcashanda
bottleofIrishwhiskey.I’manattorney.MostofwhatIdois—”

“Charmingladiesoutofwhatevertheyhavethatyouwant?”Shepulledapairofbrassknucklesout

ofhercleavage.

Heputhishandsoutlikeatrafficcop.“Nowlet’sallcalmdown.”

“Idon’tknowaboutyou,butI’mcalm.”Sheslidthefingersofherrighthandthroughtheloopsof

theknuckles.

“Wheredidyouevengetthose?They’reillegal.”Pointingthatoutwasn’tlikelytohelphim,buthe

justwantedtogoontherecordincaseshedidn’tknow.

“I bought them from RayDonovanweapons.com. They were half price.” She shook her head.

“Apparentlynooneusesbrassknucklesthesedays.It’sallcyber-bullyingandhacking.Explainswhythe
worldisgoingtohell.Peopledon’tbeattheshitoutofeachotheranymore.Beatdownshavebeenaround
sincewesproutedopposablethumbs,butnowit’sallaboutcyber-beatdowns.”Shepointedtohim.“Mark
my words, all this cyber stuff is the downfall of Western civilization. Exactly what happened to the
Romans.”

Hedidn’tfollow.“TheRomanshadcyber-bullying?”
HeknewtheEgyptianshadbatteries,butRomancyber-bullyingwasathing?TheHistoryChannel

musthavemissedthatone.

“No, of course they didn’t have cyber-bullying. In the end, they had too much politics and not

enoughbeatdowns.Theywentfrombeingthetoughestcountryonearthtobeingabunchoftoga-wearing
blowhards who sat around bathing each other and drinking wine. That’s why the Attila the Hun wiped
themout.”

Hewasn’tsurewhatAttilatheHunhadtodowithhim,butaslongasshewastalking,shewasn’t

assaultinghim.“Okay.”

“Backtotheproblemathand.WhyshouldIbelieveyou?”Shecrackedherknuckles.

“I’minlovewithCharlie.”Heheldhereyessoshewouldknowhewastellingthetruth.
Shelookedlikeshewantedtobelievehim.Shetookadeepbreathandletitoutslowly,dropping

herarms.“IfIhadn’tseenthewayyoulookather,I’dhavealreadypunchedyouintheballs.”

Hishandsdroppedtocoverhiscrotchwhilehetookaninvoluntarystepbackward.“HowdoIlook

ather?”

“Like you could spend forever with her and it still wouldn’t be enough time.” Mama slipped the

brass knuckles off and dropped them on the small end table next to the sofa. “Convincing Charlie that
you’reforrealisn’tgoingtobeeasy.”

Hesatinthechairadjacenttothesofa.“Youbelieveme?”

Sheglaredathimonemoretimeforgoodmeasure.“Yes,butifyouhurtherI’llbeatyoutodeath

andfeedyourbodytothegatorsinFalgoutCanal.Lastweek,afriendofminepulledatwelvefooterout
ofFalgoutCanal.”

“Okay.Deal.”Whatelsecouldhesay?

“So,what’syourplan?”Mamacrossedherlegs,clearlywaitingforhimtowowher.“Whenyou

tellherthetruth,she’sgoingtocutyououtofherlife.”

Heknewthat,buthearinghersayitjustmadethingsworse.
“Stillworkingonaplan.”Hesatbackinreliefthathewasn’tabouttobebeatentodeath.

Shegavehimaverymomlook.“Youhavenocluewhatyou’redoing,doyou?”
“I’mcompletelylost.”Hisheadlolledbackagainstthechairback.“IneedtotellheraboutJerome,

butIdon’twanttohurtherorloseher.Anyideas?”

Mamathoughtaboutitforacoupleofbeats.“Ithinkyoushouldknockherup,marryher,andthen

tellheraboutJeromeonyourgoldenweddinganniversary.Justaheads-up,Iexpectyourfirstborntobe
namedafterme.”

Itmightbeawkwardtoexplainthathe’dalreadyseenAngeliqueCherieandshewasindeednamed

afterMama.

“Basically,you’vegotnothingtoo.”Herackedhisbrain.“IreallyneedtoromanceherbeforeItell

her the truth. We’re talking pulling out all the stops. I thought I’d start with dinner and hundreds of red
roses.”

Mamamadesnoringnoises.“Ifellasleepjustthinkingaboutthat.Ifthisisthecrapyounormally

do,Ican’tbelieveyouwereabletoromanceanyoneoutofanything.”

“Now,waitaminute,givemeasecond.Howaboutahot-airballoonride?”Hewatchedherface

carefullyforsignsofapproval.

Shepinchedthebridgeofhernoseandsighedliketheweightofhisstupiditywasaheavyburden.

“Betts’sfatherdiedafterfallingoutofahot-airballoon.”

“OhmyGod,really?”Hishandcoveredhismouth.
“No,butifIcouldfigureoutwhichofthethreemenIsleptwiththatmonthwasherfatherandhe

tookmeupinahot-airballoon,I’dthrowhimoverthesideandthenhe’dhavediedinahot-airballoon
accident.”Shelookedverydisappointedinhim.“IsthisreallyyourAgame?’Causeitsoundslikeyou’ve
justbingewatchedtheHallmarkChannelandarepickingrandomromancescriptideas.Areyouplanning
onfindingherlonglosthobograndpaandbringinghimhomeforChristmas?”

“I’m struggling, cut me some slack. I need ideas.” When he worked, he was usually focused. He

foundwhatthewomanwantedandhegaveittoher.HehadstacksofreportsonCharliethatgavehim
exactlynoinsight.Inperson,shewasnothinglikeshewasonpaper.

Hadthisbeentruefortheotherwomentoo?
Guiltpunchedhimrightintheheart.He’dneverstayedaroundforthedevastation.They’dalljust

beenajobtohim.Hefelttheneedtocalleachoneandaskforforgiveness,andhewasafraidthathewas
abouttoexperienceexactlywhattheyhad.

Ifhedidn’tendupwithCharlie,itwoulddestroyhim.

“Ihavetosay,guiltdoesn’tlookgoodonyou.”Mamalookedhimupanddown.“Me,Idon’treally

doguilt.IwasraisedBaptistandtheydoguiltbigtime.Nodrinkingordancingorsexbeforemarriage.
I’mproudtosay,Idoalotofallthree,sometimesallatthesametime.AnddamnifIdon’tfeeltheleast
bitguiltyaboutanyofit.”

“Backtome.Canwefocusontheproblemathand?OnceCharliefindsoutthetruth,she’sgoingto

hateme.”Thethoughtsentashiverdownhisspine.Hemissedherandhe’donlyjustseenheracoupleof
hoursago.“Ineedtofigureouthowtomakeherfallinlovewithmebeforeshefindsoutthetruth.”

Thatwasasoundplan…well,itwasmoreadirectiontoheadinandnotanactualplan,butitwas

astart.

“Howdoyoumakesomeonefallinlovewithyou?”Mamasatbackandwaitedforhimtoreveal

thesecrettolove.

He’ddoneitdozensoftimesbefore,butwhenitwaspersonal,hedidn’thaveaclue.Hedropped

hisheadintohishands.“I’msoscrewed.”

“Yep.” She reached over and patted his arm. “Stop overthinking this. Name five things you love

aboutCharlie.”

“Hersmile,thefactthatshe’sunpredictable.Ilovewatchingthewayhermindworks.She’skind

and generous. She’s resourceful and smart and funny and beautiful. She enjoys life and judges people
basedontheiractionsandnothowtheylook.Shedoesn’tmindgettingherhandsdirty—”

“OhJesus,stop.Icanfeelmybloodglucoselevelrising,you’resodamnsweet.Sinceyoudon’t

knowCharliethatwell,letmebreakthisdownforyou.Sheisloyalandnevergivesup.She’sbeenafter
herfather’slovesinceshewasoldenoughtorealizethatshedidn’thaveit,andsheputsfamilyaboveall
else.” Mama wanted the world to think she was a dumb blonde, but she was wise beyond her years.
“She’s had a lifetime of grand gestures, but it’s the small ones she loves. She never had a childhood
becausegrowingupinthelimelightsucksthechildrightoutofaperson.”Mamafoldedherhandsinher
lap.“Now,doesthatsoundlikethetypeofladywhowantsabazillionroses?”

“No,she’sasimplepicnicinherfavoritespotintheparkkindofgirl.Or,she’dpreferpizzaanda

movie at home instead of going out.” He could feel a goofy smile break out across his face. “She’s
Saturday morning antiquing and Sunday morning sleeping in, and she’d appreciate getting my
grandmother’sengagementringovermebuyinghersomethingnew.”

“That sounds like Charlie.” Mama sniffled and blinked rapidly. “The last of my girls is getting

married.”Sheleanedoverandpunchedhiminthearm.“Ifyoudon’tscrewitup.”

“Don’t start planning our wedding. She still has to forgive me first.” He couldn’t plan the future

beforehetoldhereverything.

His phone buzzed with a text. He picked up his phone and read the screen. “She wants to know

whatI’muptothisafternoon.”

Heknewhisfacehadagoofysmileonit,buthedidn’tcare.Hetextedback,Justhangingoutwith

Mama.

“Youtwoaresosweetit’sgivingmecavities.”Mamamadegaggingnoises.
Therewasascrapingcomingfromabovethefrontdoor.

He opened the door, expecting to find some sort of animal on the roof. Instead, he found Charlie

wearingawhiteMarilynMonroedress,blondewig,andsittingonLuckyStrickland’sshouldersusinga
crowbartopryopenthedormerwindowabovethefrontdoor.

Charlie’smouthdroppedopen.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”

“I could ask you the same question.” He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m

surethere’salogicalexplanationforwhythreewomenaredressedasMarilynMonroeandbreakinginto
myroom.Ican’twaittohearit.”

Chapter13

Charliesmiledaswidelyandasmanicallyaspossible,hopingtoblindWagnerwithherprofessionally
whitenedteethwhileshetriedtocomeupwithareasonwhyshewasonLucky’sshoulderstryingtoclimb
inhiswindow.

SheglancedatBetts,wholookedlikeadeerintheheadlights.
“Charliegotonmyshoulderstogetabettervantagepointtoseeintotheattic.WeheardAngelique

walking around.” Lucky bent at the waist and Charlie slid her left leg down and then her right.
Unfortunately,herskirtgottangledinLucky’sMarilynwigassheslidtotheground.

AfterCharlieandLuckyhadsettledtheirclothes,CharliestoodtallonherMarilynheelsandtried

theblindingsmileagain.

“Onlyproblemis,Angeliqueisthatway.”Hepointedtothemainhousebehindher.
CharlielookedatBettsandthenatLucky.“Igotnothing,howabouteitherofyou?”

“Nope,weweretotallybreakingin.”Luckypushedpasthim.“We’reheretofindoutwhyyou’rein

NewOrleans.”

BettsjustglaredathimasshefollowedLuckyintotheguesthouse.

HewaitedpatientlyforanexplanationfromCharlie.
“Whatshesaid.”ShepointedvaguelyatLuckyasshesteppedinside.
Thiswasn’tpreciselyhermostembarrassingmoment,butitsuremadethetopten.

MamaCherieshookherheadandlookedateachMarilyninturn.“I’msodisappointedinyou.”
“Why? You broke into my house first.” Wagner looked like he couldn’t believe what was

happening.Charliecouldseehowhemightbeshockedbythis,buttobehonest,thiswasprettyrun-of-
the-millfortheMarilyns.

“Yes,butIbrokeintherightway.”Mamapulledsomethingoutofhercleavageandhelditup.“I

stolethekey.”Shepointedtothewindowoverthefrontdoorwiththekey.“Idon’tknowwhatthatwas,
butItaughty’allbetterthanthat.”

Luckyhungherhead.“You’reright.Ishouldhaveplannedthisout,butBettsandIareonlyintown

untiltomorrowmorning.Weneededaquickinandout.”

Wagnerlookedaroundliketheywerealllunatics,openedhismouthtosaysomething,thoughtabout

it,andthenclosedhismouth.

BettswatchedMama.“Whatdidyoufindout?”
“I’m standing right here. Not only did you guys break into my place, but now you’re going to

discussme…infrontofme.”

“You’re welcome to leave the room.” Lucky was always so helpful; unfortunately, she was

somewhatofanacquiredtaste.Mostpeopledidn’tunderstandherhumororevenknowshewaskidding.

“I’mgoodrightwhereIam.”WagnerturnedtoMama.“Whatdidyoufindout?”
Luckynoddedherapproval.Ifhehadbackeddown,shewouldhavewrittenhimoff.

Forsomereason,itwasreallyimportanttoCharlieforbothBettsandLuckytolikeWagner.
“Hequitworkingforwhoevertoday.”MamagrabbedBettsbyonearmandLuckybytheother.“It’s

timeforustogosothesetwocanhavewild,crazy,first-timesex.”Shepulledbothwomentothefront

doorandturnedbacktolookatCharlieandthenWagner.“Idon’twanttoseeeitherofyouuntiltomorrow
morning.I’llsendoversomedinnerinacoupleofhours.Iexpectthatoneofyouwillanswerthedoor
wearingnothingbutasheet.”

Charliecouldfeelhercheeksturntomatored.“Um.”

“Don’tlookatmelikethat.Ididn’traiseyoutobeallprudish.Youneedtogetlaidandhe’sinto

you.”MamawaggledafingeratCharlie.“Idon’twanttohearanotherwordaboutit.”

Lucky and Betts both mashed their lips together to keep from laughing. Mama dragged Betts and

Luckyoutthedoor.Sheclosedthefrontdoor.

Fromtheothersideofthedoorsheyelled,“Ichangedthesheetsandthere’sabrand-newboxof

condomsinthenightstand.You’rewelcome.”

“Traitors.”Charliewas…well,wasthereawordthatmeantmoremortifiedthanmortified?
Alockclickedinplace.

Charlietriedthedoor,butitwouldn’tbudge.“Shelockedusin.”
Shepoundedonthedoor.

Holycrap,notonlyhadMamaembarrassedher,butshe’dlockedthemintogether.
Shecheckedthedoorforawaytoopenit.Thelockwasadeadboltthatneededakeytounlockit

from both sides. Maybe the windows? She tested the ones on either side of the door. They were both
paintedshut.

“Whatjusthappenedhere?”Wagnerlookedalittlestunned.

“Mama’s,well…therereallyaren’twordstoproperlydescribeMama.”Maybeifsheclimbedon

achair,shecouldseeifthedormerabovethedooropened.“Ishouldstartbyapologizing—”

“It’sfine.Ihaveinterestingfamilytoo.”Hesatontheedgeofthebed,realizedthathewassitting

ontheedgeofthebed,lookedhorrified,andflunghimselfintothechairnexttothesofa.

Shelikedthathe’drealizedthatBetts,Lucky,andMamawereherfamily.

Shetookthesofa.
“AreyouasembarrassedanduncomfortableasIam?”God,shehopedshewasn’tinthisalone.

“I’mnotsureembarrassedanduncomfortablearetherightwords.”Hisbrowscruncheduplikehe

was thinking about it, and then he threw back his head and laughed until his eyes watered. When he’d
finallyrecovered,hesaid,“I’vebeeninsomeinterestingsituations,butthisisdefinitelythestrangest.”

“Iworkinpolitics,sothisisnothing.”Thefullmeaningofherwordshither.“Imean,Idon’t…

haven’t ever been locked in a room with a man… can we go back to when things were merely
embarrassinganduncomfortable?”

Herfoottastedterribleinhermouth.Still,shewasaMarilyn—foot-in-mouthsyndromeornot,she

mustcarryon.Shecrossedherlegs,fluffedoutherskirt,andrelaxedbackagainstthesofa.“So,how’s
yourafternoongoing?”

If only she’d been wearing a pearl choker, she could have passed for a 1950s housewife making

politecocktailpartyconversation.

“Fine,andyours?”Helookedlikehewasdoinghisbesttokeepfromlaughingagain.

“Mytwobestfriendscameintotown,Ilaiddownthelawtomyassistant,andIgotcaughtbreaking

into the house of a man that I kind of have a crush on.” She smoothed down her skirt and froze mid
smooth.“DidIsaythecrushpartoutloud?”

Thistimehedidlaugh.“Yes,andIhaveacrushonyoutoo.That’swhyIquittoday.Myemployer

wasn’thappy,butIdon’tcare.”

“Soyou’llbeleavingsoon?”Shehadn’tseenthatonecoming.

“Notnecessarily.”Hetookadeepbreathandletitoutslowly.“Idon’tthinkthetensionbetweenus

isgoingtogoawayuntilwetakesexoffthetable.Wearenothavingsextonight.”

Her shoulders slumped. Damn, she had just been getting her mind wrapped around the idea. She

realized that her shoulders were slumped and sat up. “That would certainly take away most of the
tension.”

And the possibility of sex, which didn’t come her way all that often. Well, didn’t come her way

withamantowhomshewasattracted.

“Interestingoutfit.”Hepointedtoherwig.“Caretoexplain?”
“ThisaremyMarilynwhites.Betts,Lucky,andImetourfreshmanyearofhighschoolwhenweall

dressed as Marilyn Monroe for the Halloween dance. We’ve been close ever since. Occasionally we
dressupasMarilynandgooutonthetown.”

“So this isn’t your first breaking and entering job dressed as Marilyn?” He grinned. “You look

fantastic.Toobadthere’snota—”Heclampedhislipstogether.

“Asewergratearoundwhenyouneedone,”shefinishedforhim.“I’msurethere’sahairdryerin

thebathroom.Idon’tthinkitwillwork,butI’mgametogiveitatry.”

“Aroundyou,myfootseemstoendupinmymouth.”Itwashisturntobeuncomfortable.“Alot.”
“Metoo,”shesaid.
Awkwardsilencedescendedlikeanunseenfog.

Afterwhatseemedlikeforever,Charliegotupandwalkedtothewindow.
“Theatticlight’sonagain.”ShewatchedtheatticwindowforaglimpseofAngelique.“Ihadmy

assistantcheck,andthere’snopowertothehouse.”Sheshrugged.“Onsecondthought,shedidn’thave
electricitywhenshelivedthere,soeveniftherewerepower,shewouldn’tnecessarilyknowhowtoturn
iton.”

Nowshewasbabbling.

“Yourassistant.Yousaidsomethingabout‘layingdownthelaw.’Whathappened?”Hestoodright

behindherlikehetoowaswatchingforAngelique.

“She’saspyformyfather.WhenItoldherIwasleavingearlyfortheday,shemadeacomment

abouthowhewouldn’tbehappy.”

“Whydidn’tyoufireher?”Itwasafairquestion.
“Untilnow,Ididn’trealizehowweakitmakesmelookthatIhaven’tfiredher.”Shewatchedhis

reflectioninthewindow.“She’ssleepingwithmyfather.”

“Howdoyouknowforsure?”Heputhisarmaroundherandpulledherinforahug.

“Ididn’tuntilIaccusedherofittodayandshealmosthadaheartattack.”Charlielaidherheadon

hisshoulder.“NowIknowwhymyfatherwassoinsistentthatIhireher.”

“Isthereanypossibilityofherbecomingyourstepmother?”Hekissedthetopofherhead.Itwas

comforting…hewascomforting.

“No. My father has serious fidelity issues. She’s just the flavor of the month. If I were a nicer

person,I’dtellherthatthere’snofuturewithhim,butsadly,I’mnot.”Somethingsapersonneededtofind
outforthemselves.

Theatticlightwentoff.

“DidyouseethatordidIimaginethattheatticlightjustwentoff?”Wagnerleanedclosertothe

window,tryingtogetabetterview.

“No,thelightisoff.”Shewrappedherleftarmaroundhiswaist.“IfeelbadforAngelique.”

“Shedidhaveaprettyterriblelife,oratleastthelastpartofit.”Withhisfreehand,hepulledout

hisphone.“I’mgoingtogooglehowtogetridofaghost.”

Sheputherhandoverhistostophim.“Don’tyouthinkweshouldmeetherfirst?”

“Already did.” He slid his phone back in his front trouser pocket. “I mean, I didn’t meet her so

muchasfeelher.”Hisvoicewentuponthelastwordlikehedidn’tfullybelieveit.

“Whatdoyoumean?”Shefeltkindofletdown.Shehadn’tfeltAngelique,andtheywererelated.
“I’mnotsureIactuallyfelther.Itwasmorelikeweirddaydreams.”Hescratchedthebackofhis

neck,likehewastryingtofindtherightwordsbutthereweren’tany.

“Daydreams. What kind of daydreams?” She wanted some weird daydreams. Angelique hadn’t

weirddaydreamedher.

Helaughedself-consciously.“MaybesomedayI’lltellyou,butrightnowI’mstilltryingtoworkit

out.”

“Is that why you ran out of there earlier today?” At least now she knew for sure it hadn’t been

becauseofher.

“Yes.”Hesteeredherawayfromthewindow.“CanIkissyou?”
“Idon’tknow.Youtooksexoffthetable,andit’snotlikewedon’thavechemistry,soIcan’tbe

responsibleformyactions.”Shewasmessingwithhim,butbytheconfusedlookonhisface,hehadn’t
caughton.“I’mmessingwithyou.Ofcourseyoucankissme.”Sheslidherarmsaroundhisneck.“I’m
waiting.”

“WhatifIwanttoputsexbackonthetable?”Hisgreeneyescrinkledinthecorners.
Sheglanceddownatthesmallcoffeetable.“Idon’tthinkitwouldholdbothofus,butI’mwilling

togiveitatryifyouare.JustFYI,ifitbreaks,I’mblamingyou.”

“God,Ilovehowyourmindworks.”Hislipsloweredtohersandhekissedtherightcornerofher

mouth. Softly, he trailed kisses down her jaw and over her collarbone. With his index finger, he gently
pushedthewhitestrapofherdressoutofhisway.“Areyousure?”

Heheldhergazeandsheknewwithoutashadowofadoubtthathewouldn’tgoanyfurtherifshe

stoppedhim.

“Yes.”She’dneverwantedanythingoranyonemorethanshewantedhimrightnow,buttherewere

stillafewthingstheyneededtocoverfirst.“Iknowyouquitandarenolongeronthejob…”

Hadhesleptwithallofthoseotherwomen?
Hecuppedherfaceandlookedherdeadintheeye.“Sexwasn’tpartofthedeal.It’sneverbeen

partofthedeal.Iwon’tlietoyouandtellyouthatIdidn’tsleepwithsomeofthem,becauseIdid,butit
wasconsensualandnotbusiness.”Hekissedhertenderly.“Ihaveapast.I’mnotproudofit.Youcanask
meanythingandI’lltellyouthetruth.”

“Didyoucareaboutthem?”Shedidn’tfeellikejustanothermark,butthatwasprobablyexactly

howthey’dfelt.

“Careaboutthem,yes,butIdidn’tlovethem.”Heledhertothesofa,satdown,andpulledheronto

hislap.“Ididn’tsetouttohurtanyone,butIdidhurtthem.Iseethatnow.Ifyou’dlike,Icancallthemall
andapologize.”

Hewascompletelysincere.

“No, I’m pretty sure they don’t ever want to hear from you again.” She couldn’t let it go. “How

manyofthemdidyousleepwith?”

Hedidn’thesitate.“Three.”

“Three?Whyonlythree?”Shehadn’tmeanttosaythatoutloud.
“Really,youthinkIshouldhavesleptwithallofthem?”Hetriedtokeepfromsmiling.

“Yes…Imeanno.”Havingreadwhatthewomenhadposted,she’dgottenthefeelingthattheyall

hadsleptwithhim.Orno,thatwasn’ttrue—thattheyallwouldhavelikedtohavesleptwithhim.“Ifthey
hadoffered,wouldyouhaveaccepted?”

“Severaldidoffer,butIdon’tbelieveinone-nightstands.Sexwithoutfeelingisjustaone-night

stand even if it lasts more than one night.” He could be lying, but she didn’t think so—or more to the
point,shedidn’twanttothinkso.

“Why did you quit today?” She still didn’t know who he’d been working for or why, but at this

pointmaybeitdidn’tmatter.

“BecauseIhavefeelingsforyou.”Again,straighteyecontactandnohesitation.
Shehadn’texpectedthat.“Quittingdoesmakesense.Iguessyoucan’tachieveyourgoalsifyou’re

afraidofgettinghurt.”

Luckyforhimshewasn’taromantic.Heartsandflowersreallyweren’therthing.
“Whendoyouleave?”Shewouldmisshim.Shehadn’texpectedthat.
“Kindofdependsonyou.”Hebithistoplipandlookedalittlenervous.

“Why?”Whatcouldhisstayingpossiblyhavetodowithher?
“Iwaskindofhopingthatyoumighthave…ormaybe…youknow…coulddevelop…feelingsfor

me.”Hisvoicecracked,soheclearedhisthroat.Hewasnervous.Itwaslovelytowatch.

Shewrappedherarmsaroundhisneckandkissedhimlightlyonthenose.“YouliveinCalifornia.”

“Iknow,butIwasthinkingofopeningabranchofficeinNewOrleans.Ihatetopointthisout,but

Louisianapoliticshasabadreputation.Iwasthinkingthatyouguyscoulduseafixer.”Heheldhishands
up.“Nowomen,noromancing,juststraight-uphonestcrookedpolitics.”

“Aslongasit’sstraight-uphonestcrookedpolitics.”Shegrinnedandtriedtoignorethespin-class

thumpingofherheart.Hewasn’tleavinganytimesoon.

“So,whatdoyousay,couldyouuseafixer?”Hesnappedhisfingers.“Iknow,youcouldfireyour

assistantandIcouldtakeherplace.”

“So instead of my father sleeping with my assistant, I would be sleeping with my assistant.” She

justcouldn’timaginehimansweringthephoneandsettingupsocialmediacampaigns.

Heclearedhisthroatagain.“Arewesleepingtogether?BecauseIcanwait.Imean,Idon’twantto

wait,butI’mwillingtowait.If,youknow,youwanttowait.”Heshookhishead.“Wait,Ijustsaid‘wait’
waytoomanytimes.”

“So, counselor, here’s my dilemma. I want to sleep with you, but I’m not into one-night stands

either.Neverhadone,neverwantedtohaveone.So,doItrustthatyou’retellingmethetruthandwego
foritrighthere,ordoIwaitforsomesortofproofthatyouactuallyquitandaretellingthetruth?”Allher
cardswereoutonthetable.

Henodded.“Iseeyourdilemma,andgivenmyrecenthistory,youarejustifiedinwantingproof.So

this,”hegesturedtothebed,“iscompletelyuptoyou.”

Usingherhandsasascale,shemadeabigshowofweighingbothoptions.Finally,shedroppedher

handsandsaid,“I’mgoingtohavetogowithsex.It’sbeenalongtimeandI’dhatetopassonwhatcould

bethemostearth-shatteringnightofecstasyI’veeverexperienced.”

“Nopressurethere.”Hepulledhercloser.“Ithinkweshouldtalkaboutyourexpectations.Imean,

I’ve never had any complaints, but I don’t believe any of the…” He did some mental calculations. “…
sevenwomenI’vehadsexwithinmylifeeverusedthewords‘earth-shatteringnightofecstasy,’butin
allfairnessoneofthemwasdeafandmysignlanguageisterrible.”

“Now I’m rethinking this whole sex thing.” She nodded toward the bed. “Then again, I’d hate to

wasteasetofcleansheets.”

Hereachedupandtracedhercheekbonewith—ifshedidn’tknowanybetter—loveshininginhis

eyes.“You’reremarkable.Youshouldthrowmeout,butyou’restillhere.Ishowyoutheworstpartsof
myselfandyoudon’tcare.Idon’tdeserveyou.”

Herbreathcaughtinherthroat.Noonehadeverlookedatherlikethat.Shewantedittobetrue,

shewantedhimtobetrue,butsomethinginthebackofhermindwouldn’tgiveherheartthegreenlightto
letthiscrushmovetosomethingdeeper.

Shekissedhimhard,hertongueminglingwithhis.
Rightnow,thiswasallshecouldgivehiminreturn.

Chapter14

Wagnerhadn’texpectedadeclarationoflove,buthe’dhopedthathecouldatleastputCharlie’sdoubtsto
rest.

Shekissedhimforallshewasworth,buthe’dseenthedoubtonherface.
Ithurt.Hehadnorighttothathurt,butitstillhurt.

Shesuckedonhisearlobeandhelosttheabilitytothink.Sheshiftedpositionsoshecouldstraddle

him,andherbodywrappedaroundhim.

The rickety sofa creaked under their combined weight. A lumpy sofa was no place for her. She

deservedonlythebest—champagne,roses,finelinens—butallhehadtoofferwasthisguesthouseand
hislove.

Hisarmsencircledherwaistashewrappedherlegsaroundhishipsandstood.Hewalkedthemto

thebedandlaidherdownonthepurplevelvetcomforter.

Wherehadthatcomefrom?MusthavebeenanothersurpriseleftbyMama,becausewhenhe’dleft

thismorningthecottoncomforterhadbeenlightgreen.

Charlieranherhandsupanddownthevelvet.“ThisisclassicMama.Myfavoritecolorispurple.

She’s into details.” She tossed off the blonde wig, and her dark chocolate hair spilled down her
shoulders.

Hismindtookasnapshotofher,andheknewwithoutadoubtthathe’drememberthispictureofher

fortherestofhislife.

“What?”Hernaughtysmilepromisedohsomanythings.
Alittleembarrassedforhavingbeencaughtmooningoverher,hematchedhersmileandpointedto

thefrontofherdress.“I’vespentthebetterpartofthelasthourtryingtofigureoutifyou’rewearinga
bra.”

Shereachedbehindherhead,unhookedthewhitestraps,andthefrontofthedressfellopentojust

belowherbreasts.Theywerebareandfullandthenippleswereperfectpinkraspberries.“Shelfbra.It’s
sownintothedress.”

He had no idea what a shelf bra was, but tomorrow he was having them sown into all of her

clothes.“Andtherest?”

Hismouthactuallywatered.

Sheuntiedthesashatthefront,unzippedahiddensidezipper,andwriggledoutofthedress.She

layonthebedandlethimlookhisfill.Hestaredatherbreastsandhiseyesmovedlowertoatinypairof
whitelacepantiesbarelycoveringher.Hisgazeroameddownherlegstotheblackhighheelsshestill
wore.

“Idon’tknowifIshouldstartfromthetopandworkmywaydownorfromthebottomandgoup.”

Heleaneddownandkissedherhard.“Anyideas?”

“Youcertainlyhavelotsofclotheson.”Herhandsundidthetopbuttonofhisshirtandworkedtheir

waydownuntiltheshirthungopen.

Shesmiledasherfingerstracedhisabs.“Nice.”
“CrossFitthreetimesaweek.”Hecaughtherhandbeforeitmadeittohisbeltandkissedherpalm.

“IgotoCrossFitNOLAonMagazine.”Shekissedhisrightpec.
“That’swhereIstartedgoing.”Noneoftheresearchhehadonherhadsaidanythingaboutphysical

fitness.“Whattime?”

“Igotothe5:30a.m.class.”Shesnakedherarmsaroundhiswaistandpulledhimdownonher.

“WhyarewetalkingaboutCrossFit?”

“EveryminuteIspendwithyou,Ilikeyouevenmore.”Everyminutehespentwithher,hefella

littlemoreinlovewithher.

“So,Ihavesomethoughtsonthetop-downversusbottom-upplans.”Shegrinnedupathim.“Ithink

youshouldstartinthemiddleandthensurpriseme.”

“That’sthebestideaI’veheardallday.”Heinchedhiswaydowntoherbellybutton,kissedit,and

slidafingerundertheelasticholdingtheitty-bittyscrapoflacecoveringhercore.“Doyoualwayswear
tinyunderwear?”

“Somepeoplearesonosy.”Shelaughed.“Yes,whenitcomestolingerie,lessismore.”

“Greatmindsthinkalike.”Slowly,hetuggedthemdown.“Knowwhat’sbetterthantinylingerie?”
“What?”Shereachedback,grabbedapillow,andstuffeditunderherhead.

“Nopantiesatall.”Hetuggedthemdownherlegsandtossedthemontothefloor.
“Youknowwhat,Ithinkyou’reright.”Hereyesrakeddownhischest.“Whyaren’tyounakedtoo?”

Herhandsreachedforhisbelt,buthebattedthemaway.Hewantedthistolastforaslongaspossible.

Leaningbackonhisheels,hedrankherin.Fromherchocolatehaircurlingaroundherpinknipples

tothethinlineofdarkhairbetweenherlegstohersleek,muscularlegs—everyinchofherwasperfect.
Hepartedherlegsandallhecouldthinkwasmine.She’smine.

Hebentlowandkissedthetopofthethinlineofhairandlickedhiswaytohercore.
“Wow,okay,soyou’rejustgoingforit.”Hereyessmolderedasshelookeddownherbodyathim.

Itwasoneofthesexiestthingshe’deverseen.

“Yes,thatwastheplan.Iliketogoallin.”Helappedathercoreanddippedinafinger.Shewas

warmandwetandwonderful.Heslidasecondfingerin.Hishandpickeduptherhythmofhismouthand
soonherhipsjoinedin.Shebuckedagainsthismouthasshetightenedaroundhisfingers.Heincreased
thepressureandhecouldfeeltheorgasmpoundthroughher.Oncewasn’tenoughforhim,sohekeptup
therhythmuntilshewentovertheedgeagain.

Shewastremblingandvulnerableandsoverywet.He’ddonethattoher.Shewashis.
Hewantedallofher.Heunhookedhisbelt,poppedthebuttononhistrousers,stood,andletthem

falltothefloor.Hewantedtobeinsideofhertogiveherpleasureandtotakesomeforhimself.

Hereachedacrossherforthecondoms,managedtograbthebox,butittooktwotriestoripone

open.

“Myturn.”Shetookthecondomfromhim,suckeditbetweenherlips,andusedhertonguetorollit

downhisshaft.

Henearlyexplodedrightthenandthere.“Wheredidyoulearntodothat?”

“Trustme,youdon’twanttoknow,especiallyrightnow.”Withherhands,sheurgedhimtolieon

hisback.

“Maybelaterthen.”Hepulledherontopofhim.

“Oh,Iseehowit’sgoingtobe.”Sheleaneduponherkneesandfittedherselfoverhim.Sheslid

downhisshaft.“You’regoingtomakemedoallofthework.”

“I’mafirmbelieverinequalrights.”Hecuppedherbreastsandtoldhimselftoslowdown,buthe

wasn’t in control anymore. She rode him harder and harder until the effort of holding back the orgasm
actuallyhurt.Hepulledherheaddown,kissedherhard,flippedheroveronherback,anddroveintoher,
comingsohardhesawstars.

Herolledontohissideandcurledhimselfaroundherlikeaspoon.

“I don’t know if that qualified as ‘earth-shattering ecstasy,’ but it was pretty damn close.” She

snuggledintohim.

Helookedatthewindow.“It’sstilldaylight.Ibelieveitwasa‘nightofearth-shatteringecstasy.’

Thenighthasn’tevenbegun.”

Sheyawned.“Thatmakesmetiredjustthinkingaboutit.”
“YoureallyshouldgotoalaterCrossFitclass.Nooneshouldbeupbeforeseveninthemorning.”
“Noothertime.Iusuallyhavebreakfastmeetings,whichleadtomorningmeetingsandthenlunch

meetingsandthenafternoonmeetings.IfI’mluckyIonlyhaveoneeveningfunctiontogoto.”Sheyawned
again.“IfIskipCrossFit,Ican’teatchocolate,andchocolateisavitalpartofmydiet.Withoutallofthe
feel-good hormones that it creates in my brain, I’d never be able to stay awake during all of those
meetings.”

“Whatcouldyoupossiblyhavetotalkaboutinallofthosemeetings?”He’dthoughthehadalotof

meetings.

“Everything from sanitation workers in Shreveport threatening to strike to expanding alligator-

huntingseason.”Shetuckedherhandsunderthepillow.“Ihandleanythingmyfatherdoesn’twanttodeal
with,whichisprettymucheverything.”

“What’snextafterpolitics?”Hecouldn’tseeherrunningforoffice.Shewaswaytooprincipled.
“Idon’tknow.”Sheyawnedagain.“Don’ttellanyone,butpartofmehopesthatDaddydoeslose.

I’mtiredofputtingoutfiresanddealingwithmesses.”

“Ibetyou’regoodatit.”Hegentlycombedhisfingersthroughherhair.Itsmelledlikeorangesand

vanilla.

“Thatfeelsnice.”Sheshivered.
Hepulledthevelvetcomforterupandcoveredthem.
Sheyawnedagainandwriggledherbacksideevencloserintohim.“Ihadthisinsaneideawhenwe

wereinsidetheDuplantisHouse.Ithoughtaboutbuyingitandrenovatingitbacktoitsglorydays.”

“Icanseeyoudoingthat.”Andhecouldseehimselfrightbesideheralloftheway.
“If I fall asleep, wake me up for the ‘night of earth-shattering ecstasy.’ I’d hate to sleep through

that.”Herbreathingturneddeepandeven.

Hekissedthetopofherheadandheldherclose.Tomorrow,hewasbuyingtheDuplantisHouse

andgivingittoherforearlyChristmas.Hemightnothavethekindofmoneyshedid,buthecouldafford
it.

Chapter15

SomeonesmackedCharlieonthebutt.

“Wakeup,sleepyhead.”ItsoundedlikeLucky.
Someonepinchedheronthebutt.

“Ouch.”ShefloppedovertofindBettsandLuckystaringdownather.Wagnerwasnowheretobe

found.

“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Wasitearlyorlate?Lastnighthadtrulybeenanightofearth-shattering

ecstasy.

“I’dsay,basedonherlackofclothing,thatitwasagoodnight.”BettselbowedLucky.“Whatdo

youthink?”

“I think she looks morning mussed and very happy.” Lucky elbowed Betts right back. “Walking

mightbedifficultforher,butsmilingshouldbeeasy.”

Charliepressedthesheettoherchestandsatup.“Where’sWagner?”

“WesenthimouttoCaféDumontforbeignetandcoffee.”Luckysatonthebedbesideher.“You

needtogetupandgetdressed.”

“Why?”Charliescannedtheroomforherdressandcameupempty.
Bettspickedupanovernightbagandhandedittoher.“Webroughtyousomethingsfromhome.You

needtohurry.”

Herfriendswereactingstrangerthannormal.“What’sgoingon?”
“Wemayormaynothaveaproblem.”Bettswouldn’tmakeeyecontact.
“WhydoIgetthefeelingthatI’mnotgoingtolikethis?”Charlieunzippedthecanvasbagtofinda

redwrapdress,matchingheels,andtheappropriateundergarments.Wrappingthesheetaroundher,she
carriedthebagtothesmallbathroom.Sheclosedthedoorandyelledfromtheotherside,“Howmucham
Inotgoingtolikethis?”

“I don’t know, Lucky, what do you think on a scale of one to ten?” Betts sounded like she was

reallymullingitover.

“I’dsayafifteenonanormalday,butseeingashowshegotsomelastnight,Imightknockitback

toaneleven.”

Charliequicklythrewonherclothes.Shefinger-combedherhair,tuckeditintoaFrenchtwist,and

shoved a clip through it. Inside the overnight bag was her makeup kit. She repaired the damage and
thoughtshelookedalmostpresentable;well,ifnotpresentable,sheatleastlookedlikeshewasn’twalk-
of-shamingitintowork.

“Now,whereisthatdaughterofmine?”Themalevoicewasn’thappy.
OhGod,itwasherfather…here…standingontheothersideofthatdoor.Howinthehellhadhe

foundher?

Shethrewhershouldersbackandopenedthedoor.“I’mhere.”
“Thereyouare.”Hebentdownandallowedhertoair-kissbothofhischeeks.“Weneedtotalk.”

ThatwasThaddeusT.Guidryspeakfor“you’reintrouble.”
“What’s the problem?” Charlie stepped past him out of the bathroom. Betts and Lucky took up

placesoneithersideofher.Theybothhatedherfatherandonlytoleratedhimforhersake.

HelookedfromBettstoLuckyandbackagain.“Nothere.It’ssomewhatofadelicatematter.”

“I’msureBettsandLuckywon’tmindhearingaboutwhateverdelicatematterhasbroughtyouto

mydoor.”Well,itwasn’therdoor,butpointingoutthefactthatitbelongedtoamanshe’dspentthenight
withprobablywasn’tinherbestinterest.

Heturnedaroundandwalkedovertoshutthefrontdoor.SheknewthatTateandAndre,hisdriver

andhisbodyguard,wereoutside.Itmustbebadifhedidn’twantthemtohear.

“It has come to my attention that Jerome has hired a man to wine and dine you in order to get

information about our campaign.” Thaddeus T. took a seat on the sofa like it was a throne and he was
holdingcourt.“ItappearsthatJeromehasgottenhishandsonsomevery,um,”heglancedatLuckyand
Betts,“sensitiveandpossiblynegativeinformationofapersonalnature.”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t seen Michael in weeks.” Normally she’d kowtow to her

father,butshewasgettingsotiredofcleaninguphismesses.She’dspentalifetimedoingwhateverhe
wantedinthehopesthatonedayhe’dforgiveherfornotbeingthesonhe’dalwayswanted.

“Michael?Who’sMichael?”Hecrossedhislegs.“I’mtalkingaboutWagnerScott.”

Surelyshehadn’theardhimcorrectly.“What?”
Herheartjerkedinherchest.Itmadesense,andifshewasbeinghonestwithherself,she’dknown

he worked for Jerome the whole time. But she hadn’t cared—that was the worst part. She’d enjoyed
spendingtimewithhim,andithadn’tmatteredthatitwasn’treal.

God,shewasjustlikeallofthoseotherwomen.She’dthoughtshewasdifferent.She’dthoughtshe

wasspecial.She’dthoughtshe’dgoneintothingswithhereyeswideopen,butshe’dhadonblinders.

“Yournewboyfriend,WagnerScott.JeromedroppedbymyofficethismorningtotellmethatMr.

Scottisdoingafinejob.”Herfathertiltedhisheadtotheleftandevaluatedher.“Apparently,thisMr.
Scott has you eating out of the palm of his hand and reporting all sorts of information to him. Does the
nameRothchildringanybells?”

“No.”Wait.Shereachedoutandtookherfriends’hands.Ifhewastalkingaboutwhatshethought

hewastalkingabout,thiswasbad…verybad.“Pleasetellmeyoudidn’ttakemoneytovetothatoiland
gasbilltwoyearsago?”

Helookedatherlikeitwasherfault.He’dpromisedherthathe’dvetoedthebillbecauseitwas

best for the state. She’d lobbied hard for it because the extra revenue would go directly to teacher
salaries.

“Yousonofabitch.”Shewasshaking.BothBettsandLuckysqueezedherhands,lettingherknow

thattheywerethereforher.He’dbeluckytostayoutofjail.

Howcouldhehavedonesomethingsostupid?

Howcouldhehavedonethistothestate?
Howcouldhehavedonethistoher?

“What’sdoneisdone,onlynow,thankstoyournewboyfriend,it’sgoingtobeonthefiveo’clock

news.”Again,hemadeitsoundlikeitwasallherfault.

She’d had enough. She couldn’t take it anymore. “In your rush to judgment, let me point out

somethingthatyoumissed.IfIdidn’tknowaboutyoutakingthebribe,howcouldIhavetoldanyone?I
canassureyouthatWagnerhasneverbeentomyhouseandwasonlyatmyofficeforaboutfiveminutes.
Hewasneveralonewithmycomputerandhedidn’thaveaccesstomyfiles.”Shetookadeepbreathand
letitoutslowly.“YourlittlepalJeromegothisinformationfromsomeoneelse.”Shethoughtaboutitfora

second.“Mymoney’sonAlicia.Letmeguess—youbrokethingsoffwithher.”

“Mypersonallifeisneitherherenorthere.”Hisfacewasturningred,andsheknewhewashaving

a hard time holding back his temper. His little girl had never questioned him before. “So, what are we
goingtodoaboutyourlittlemess?”

She gave Betts and Lucky’s hands a squeeze and then let them go. “You are going to leave.” She

pointedtothecourtyard.“Now.”

Everyonefroze.CharlieGuidrynevertalkedbacktoherfather.

Slowly,hestood,walkedtothedoor,andopenedit.
Wagnerstoodthereholdingabeveragecaddywithfourcupsandseveralsmall,whiteCaféDumont

bags.Hesteppedinside,andthesmellofhot,freshdonutwaftedinwithhim.“What’sgoingon?”

“Nothing.”Charliewasemotionallyspent.Jeromehadbeenhismysteriousemployerandhehadn’t

quit. He might not have given Jerome dirt on her, but he’d still done damage. He’d lied to her—had
continuedtolietoher.Didshehavegulliblewrittenonherforehead?

Herfathersteppedthroughthedoorwayandturnedback.“Iexpectyouinmyofficeinanhour.”
“No,Iwon’tbethereinanhourortenhours.Iquit.”Sheslammedthedoorinhisface.

Wagnersetdownthebeignetandcoffeeandtriedtopullherintoahug,butshesteppedback.
“Don’t touch me.” Tears burned her eyes. It was telling that her father hadn’t made her cry but

Wagnerhad.“Jeromehiredyou,didn’the?”

“Yes,butIquityesterday.”Atleasthedidn’tdenyit.Thatwassomething.

“Stoplying.”Shedoubtedhecouldstopevenifhetried.“Hehiredyoutohurtme.”
Upuntilnowshehadn’tthoughtJeromecouldeverhurther,butshelovedWagner.Ithitherlikea

punchtothegut.ShelovedWagnerandhe’dplayedher.“Wow,Ididn’tseethatcoming.”

“As soon as I got to know you, I quit. Jerome is an asshole. It was only a job. I gave back the

advance.”Hepulledouthissmartphone.“Callmyassistant.HernameisClaire.She’lltellyou.”

Itwasjustajob.Shewasjustajob.
Howhadthishappened?

Howhadsheletthishappen?
“Yes,becauseClaireiscompletelyimpartial.”Shewasinlovewithadespicableman.Shesucked

atromance.Shesuckedtohellandbackatit.Fallinginlovewassupposedtobeallheartsandflowers,
butshe’dneverfeltasbadasshedidnow.

“Saysomething…please.”Hisvoicewaseven.Hereachedouttotouchhercheekandthenthought

betterofitandlethishandfalltohisside.

“Ineedtogetoutofhere.”ShetriedtoholdbackthetearsasshelookedimploringlyatLuckyand

Betts.“Canweleave?Ineedtogo.”

Itfeltlikeherbrokenheartwouldswallowherwhole.

Shewastoonumbtobehumiliated.Herfatherwasofficiallyacriminal,andthemanshelovedhad

been hired to make her fall in love with him. Well, he was really good at it. All of those women were
right:heknewexactlyhowtogettoawoman.

LuckyputherarmaroundCharlie.“Youbet.Let’sgetoutofhere.”
Theywalkedoutsideintotheblindingsunshine.Itshouldbedarkandgloomytomatchhermood.

BrightsunshineseemedlikeGodwaskickingherwhenshewasdown.

Her father’s Cadillac Escalade pulled out onto Bourbon Street and out of her life. That was the

relationshipsheshouldbemourning,butshecouldn’tgetbeyondWagner.

How could she feel betrayed when she’d known from the beginning that he’d been sent here to

betrayher?

Overhershoulder,sheheardBettslayingdownthelawtoWagner.“StayawayfromCharlie.You

needtoleaveNewOrleansassoonaspossible.Idon’tcarethatyouquitorhadachangeofheartorthat
you found Jesus or whatever. You are a terrible human being and if you ever so much as fly over
Louisianaonyourwaytosomewhereelse,I’llruinyou.”

Bettsslammedthedooronherwayout.

“I love it when you go all diva,” Lucky said as she and Betts walked Charlie to Mama Cherie’s

mile-longpink1975CadillacEldoradoconvertible.

Thecarwasridiculousandcomforting.
“WhatamIsupposedtodonow?”Thefullweightofthemorningwassinkingin.Notanhourago,

she’dbeenblissfullyasleep.“I’munemployedanddevastated.”

“Soundslikeacountrysong.”Betts’seyeswenthuge.“CanImakeitintoacountrysong?”
“Mycrappylifeisyourinspiration—goforit.”ShesquishedintothefrontseatbetweenBetts,who

wasdriving,andLuckyinthepassenger’sseat.“Thisisreallybad.IloveWagner.”

“Oh,honey.”Bettspattedherleg.“Thatsucks.”
“Whatifhehasfeelingsforyoutoo?”Luckypattedherotherleg.“Justtakesometimeandmullit

over.Whatifhedidmeetyouandfallinloveandthat’swhyhequit?”

“I feel I should point out that this is the first time Lucky has ever taken the glass-is-half-full

approach.It’snicebutkindaweird.”BettsturnedontoEsplanade.

“I’dliketothinkI’mthewomanwhocouldfinallytametherake,butthisislifeandnotaromance

novel.”Charliecouldn’tholdbackthetearsanylonger.Theyrolleddownhercheeks.“Ican’tbelieveI
finallyfoundsomeonetolove,onlyheisn’tthemanIthoughthewas.”Herfatherhadn’tbeenthemanshe
thoughthewaseither.No,thatwasn’ttrue.Hehadn’tbeenthemanshehadhopedhewas.

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.” Lucky rested her head on Charlie’s shoulder. “We’re not

leavingyoursideuntilyoukickusout.We’vebothreworkedourschedules.We’rehereaslongasyou
needus.”

Charlieopenedhermouthtoprotest,butshedidneedthem,andshe’ddotheverysameforthem.It

wouldn’tmatterifshesentthemhomeanyway;theyweren’tleavinguntiltheyknewshewasbackonher
feetagain.Shemoppedherfacewiththesleeveofherdress.“Whereareweheaded?”

“Back to your house. I texted your housekeeper that we needed chocolate and lots of it.” Betts

couldbarelyseeoverthesteeringwheel—thenagain,thecarwassohuge,ShaquilleO’Nealcouldbarely
seeoverthesteeringwheel.

“I hate my house.” Since she was changing jobs, why not change houses too? She needed a new

life. What if she moved to Austin and lived next to Lucky? Or bought the ranch next to Betts? But she
lovedNewOrleans.Itwasmorethanjusthome,itwasinherblood.Herhistorywashere.Althoughnow,
shewasdefinitelyquittingmost,ifnotall,ofthesocialclubstowhichshebelonged.Whothehellcared
thatshewasadirectdescendantofthefoundersofNewOrleans?Andwhydidshebelongtotwogarden
clubs?Shehatedgardening.

“Ihaveaconfessiontomake.Ihateyourhousetoo.”Luckyshrugged.“Sorrytodumpthatonyou,

butallofyourfamily’sportraitscreepmeout.”

“Metoo.Idon’tthinkthiswillcomeasashocktoyou,butmostofyourfamilydepictedinthose

portraitsaren’teasyontheeyes.”Bettsglancedather.“Youturnedoutreallypretty—areyousureyou’re
notadopted?”

“Right now, I’d give anything to not have Thaddeus T. as my father.” Charlie leaned her head

againstLucky’s.

BettsturnedintoCharlie’sdrivewayandhitthespareclickertheykeptinMama’scartoopenthe

gate.“HowaboutifIstartarumorthatyou’reabastardandspreaditaroundtown?”

“That’ssosweet.”Charliegrinned.“MaybeIshouldchangemynametoCharlieMonroe.”

“It’snotabadidea.”Luckynodded.“IcouldchangeminetoLuckyMonroe,andthenwecouldbe

theMonroesisters.”

“Thatsoundslikeafolkband.”Charliejustwantedtoputonherfavoritecomfypj’s,curlupwitha

quart of Chocolate Chocolate Chip ice cream, and watch a Marilyn Monroe movie marathon like they
usedtoinhighschool.“Ilovey’allsomuch.”

“Weknow,”BettsandLuckysaidinunison.

Herlifemightbefallingapart,butatleastshewasn’tinitalone.LuckyandBettswouldbethere

holdingherhandforaslongassheneededthem.

Chapter16

Thenextmorning,Charliewasanervousballofenergy.True,herlifewasincompletedisarray,butshe
wasgoingtofixit.Andshesureashelldidn’tneedamantomakeherlifecomplete.

Clearly,she’dhadtoomuchchocolateandwasnowinthemanicphaseofthechocolatehigh.
Bettsflippedanotherchocolate-chipBelgianwaffleontoherplate.“Eatup.Thebaconshouldbe

readysoon.”

CharlieslatheredherwafflewithBetts’shomemadechocolate-cream-cheesefrostingandspooned

freshstrawberriesontop.Shereallyneededtokeepherchocolatebuzzgoing.

Thelastforty-eighthourshadbeenachocolatehazeofcrying,laughing,andplottingtotakeover

theworldwithherbestfriends.

Betts was a feeder—she couldn’t help it. The desire to make everything right through food came

fromMama.Although,pointingoutthatBettshadanythingincommonwithhermotherwasneveragood
idea.

“Waffles ready yet?” Lucky walked in wearing clean jeans and a white T-shirt. She’d showered,

which was something Charlie really needed to think about doing. She pulled at her pink-bunny pajama
shirt.Itsmelledprettyripeandsodidshe.She’dbeenwearingthesamepj’ssinceshe’dcomehomeand
changedintothemdaybeforeyesterday.

“Yes,Charlie’salreadyhadtwo.”Bettswasbothafeederandatattletale.

“It’s not my fault you weren’t down here to eat them. Finders keepers, losers weepers.” Charlie

tookabiteofherchocolate-and-strawberry-coveredwaffle.Itwasheaven.

“What’sontheagendafortoday?”Bettsopenedthewafflemakerandusedaforktopullthecooked

waffleout.SheflippeditontoacleanplateandsetitinfrontofLucky.

“IneedtogotoCrossFit.”Attherateshewasgoing,herbuttwasgoingtobethesizeofabarn

soon.

“Nope,noCrossFitforyoutoday.We’regoingshoppingfornewfurniture.Thisoldcraphurtstosit

on.” Lucky slathered her waffle in chocolate frosting. “It’s hard to sit around here feeling sorry for
yourselfinrickety,uncomfortablechairs.”

“Iagree.”Charliepointedtotheportraitsofdeadpeoplelookingdownonthem.“Weneedtotake

someofthesedown.”

“Don’t you mean all?” Betts poured more batter into the waffle maker. “Even the landscapes are

stuffyandbleak.”

“Based on these paintings, the nineteenth century was a dreary time for art. Know what would

cheer this house right up?” Lucky pointed to the fireplace in the parlor. “A velvet oil paintings of dogs
playingpokeroveryourfireplace.Nothingsays‘happyhome’likedogsplayingpoker.”

“Youknow what? Ithink this placewould make an excellentmuseum. I can’tsell it because this

house has been in my family since it was built in 1860, but I could loan it out to the historical society.
They could sell tickets to keep it maintained and to help fund their other projects.” The more Charlie
thoughtaboutit,themoreshelikedthatidea.ThesewallsheldlotsofNewOrleanshistory,anditwas
timesheshareditwiththeworld.

“Soweneedtogohousehunting.”Bettspriedthewaffleoutofthewafflemakerandputitona

plate.Sheslatheredherwafflewithfrostingbutdidn’tbotherwithstrawberries.“Whataboutoneofthose
loftsdowntown?”

“IwasthinkingabouttheDuplantisHouse.”Itwastoobigandtooexpensiveanditneededalotof

work,butitfeltlikehometoCharlie.Oritwouldwhenshewasfinishedwithit.

“Areyousureyouwanttogobackthereandcheckitouttoday?”Luckywipedhermouthwitha

papertowel.“Idon’tknowifacertainpersonhasvacatedtheguesthouseyet.I’mguessinghehassince
Bettsdiva-edhim,butotherthandrivingby,Idon’tknowofawaytofindout.”

“I’llcallSharonGillery.Y’allrememberherfromschool.She’sareal-estateagentnow.”Charlie

grinnedasBettsrolledhereyes.

Luckygroaned.“Doesshehavetocomewithustothehouse?Shewassuchabitchinhighschool.”
“I don’t think she has to be with us.” Charlie really didn’t know. “And she’s still a bitch, but

accordingtohershe’soneofyoursandBetts’sbestfriends.”Sheshookherhead.“Famealwayscomes
withaprice.”

“Ifshe’spartofthedeal,I’mnotfeelingwell.”Bettsputthebackofherhandtoherforeheadand

swoonedlikea1950sfilmstar.“Ithinkit’sacaseofacuteonsetI’m-faking-because-I-can’t-stand-that-
bitch-itis.”

Luckyfakecoughedupalung.“It’sverycatchy.”
“Fine,I’llcomeupwithawayforustoseethehouseonourown.”Whatwouldhappenifsheran

intoWagner?Herheartwentallpitter-patatthethoughtofseeinghim.Shewasmadathim,butshestill
wantedtoseehim.Lovesucked.

“BeforewegototheDuplantisHouse,IthinkweshouldstopbyMarieLaveau’sgraveandtriple-

XitinWagner’shonor.”Luckytookanotherbiteofherwaffle.

Charliewipedhermouth.“Youcan’tdothatanymore.Afewyearsback,thecitycleanedoffthe

X’sandnowyoucanonlygetintoSt.Louis’scemeteryifyouhavefamilyburiedthereorarewithatour
guide.”

“Well that just sucks,” Lucky said around a bit of waffle. “How am I going to curse the people I

hateifIcan’taskforMarieLaveau’shelp?”

“Don’tyouhavefamilyburiedthere?”BettspointedatCharliewithherfork.
“Yes,butwe’renottriple-X-inghertomb.There’sahugefine,andplusvoodoopractitionerssay

thatthere’snobasisforitinthereligion.Itdoesn’twork.”Charliewasn’tintodesecratingtombs.

“Fine.”Luckyrolledhereyes.“Noone’striple-X-ingWagner.”

“I’mreallyhappyy’allarehere,butIknowyouneedtogetbacktoyourlives.I’dloveitify’all

could stay until the day after tomorrow. I’m going to need emotional support for the Brain Aneurysm
BacheloretteAuctiontomorrownight.It’sreallytheonlythingIcan’tcancel.”She’dclearedherschedule
ofeveryothersocialfunction,butthisoneshedidinmemoryofhermother.Heartacheandfalling-apart
lifeorno,shewasgoing.

“We’rehereforaslongasyouneedus.”BettsglancedatCharlie.“Butwedohavetogetbackto

therealworld.Ofcoursewecanstayuntilaftertheauction,andthenwewerehopingyou’dcomehome
withoneofus.”

They didn’t want her to be alone. It was sweet, but she had to find her new place in the world

alone.“I’llthinkaboutit.”

“Good.”Luckysippedherorangejuice.“So,canIbidonyoutomorrownight?Iwasthinkingwe

couldrockthistownbybringingyououtofthecloset.”

“That would certainly distract the gossips for a while.” Charlie really hadn’t thought out the

logisticsoftomorrownight.“Sincemyfamilynameisnowtarnished,tosaytheleast,youmaybetheonly
onewhobidsonme.”

“Nah,Iplanonbiddingtoo.”Bettsgrinned.“Icouldusealittlegossiptospiceupmylife.”

Ifherlifehadtofallapart,atleastshehadfriendswhowerewillingtohelpherpickupthepieces.

GoingbackoutinsocietyaftereveryoneknewthatJeromehadhiredsomeonetobreakherheartwasbad
enough,butaddinherfatherandtheuncomfortablesituationjustgottentimesworse.Butshewouldn’t
backdown.Shewasn’tgoingtorunaway.Thiswashertownandshewasn’tgoinganywhere.

***

“They won’t let me see her.” Five hours later, Wagner was holding up a bar stool at Voodoo

Gumbo’s.Mamawasbehindthebarwithadishtowelinhand,dryingtheglassesshe’djusthandwashed.

“Honestly,Idon’tseehowyoursituationcouldbeanyworse.”Mamasetaglassupsidedownon

theshelfofcleanglassesbehindher.

“You’reaterriblebartender.You’resupposedtooffermesageadvice.”Hesippedhisscotch.

“You’re a terrible drunk. You’ve been nursing that same scotch for the last two hours.” She set

anotherdriedglassontheshelf.

“Here’sthething,I’mnotmuchofadrinker.Liquortastesawful,ifIhavemorethanoneglassit

gives me a headache, and I’m not much into escapism.” He was a realist and hated the way alcohol
numbedhissenses.

“Thenwhyareyouatabar?”Mamagesturedwithaglass.
“I’mhereforthesageadvice.”Hetoastedherwithhismostlyfullglass.
“Okay,here’ssomeadvice.Gogetyourwoman.”Sheploppedanothercleanglassdown.“Don’t

stopuntilyouseeher.”

“Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” He shook his head. “Your daughter is ruthless, and Lucky

is…”Howdidhesayscarywithoutsoundinglikeatotalwimp?

Mamasmiled,prideglowinginherface.“Itaughtmygirlsright.”Sheaddedanotherglasstothe

cleanrow.“Betts,Lucky,andCharliearen’tspeakingtomeeither.”

“Because you vouched for me?” It was bad enough that he was hurting, but he’d driven a wedge

betweenMamaandherfamily.

“Yes,buttheywon’tstaymadlong.”Shedriedthelastglassandsetitontheshelf.
“Iknowyousaidthatgrandgesturesweren’tCharlie’sthing,butIdidsomethingtodaythat’spretty

grand.”Theclosingwasn’tuntiltomorrow,buthewantedtotellsomeonewhathe’ddone,andshewas
hisonlyfriendinNewOrleans.“IboughttheDuplantisHouse.Isignallofthepaperworktomorrow,butI
amtheproudownerofaveryexpensiveandfalling-downcreolecottageonBourbonStreet.”

Mamastoppedwipingdownthebarandstaredathim.“Soyou’removingtotown?”
“Permanently. Your daughter tried to throw me out of Louisiana, but it turns out that we live in a

freecountryandIcanlivewhereverIwant.”Goingbacktoanemptyguesthousewasgoingtobetough,
butforbetterorworse,thatwashishomenowuntilhecouldrenovatethemainhouse.Hedidn’tknowthe
firstthingaboutrenovatinganything.“Knowanygoodcontractors?”

“Acouple.Youdorealizethat’sahistorichouseandtheparishhistoricalsocietywillhaveasayin

how it’s renovated.” She thought about it and a smile winked across her face. “Since Charlie’s on the
boardofthehistoricalsociety,she’llhavetodealwithyou.Goodone.”

“That’sjustasidebenefit.Ididn’twantanyonebuyingupourfuturehome.”Hesoundedverysure

that it would be their future home, but he didn’t feel it. “How long do you think it will take for her to
forgiveme?”

Whatexactlywasthestatuteoflimitationsondisappointingandbetrayingsomeone?

“Itdepends.Charlie’slevelheaded.She’llcometoseeintimethatyourintentionsmightnothave

startedoutpurebuttheyendedthatway.”Mamaleanedonthebar.“Rightnowshe’sdealingwithalot.
Shefinallycuttheapronstringsandshe’sgivenuponarelationshipwithherfather.I’mgladshedidit,
butforheritmustbehell.”

Theknifeinhishearttwistedtocauseevenmorepain.“Ishouldbethereforher.Ishouldbeather

side.”

Heneededtoholdherandtellherthateverythingwasgoingtobeokay.Heranhisfingersthrough

hishair.Ifonlyhecouldjustseeher,hecouldexplain.He’dneverfeltthispowerlessbefore.

“It hurts to sit back and watch your loved ones in pain, but she needs space right now.” Mama

reached under the bar and pulled out an envelope. “But tomorrow night she might not need so much
space.”Sheslidtheenvelopetowardhimacrossthebar.“You’llneedthis.”

He opened the flap and pulled out an engraved invitation to the Brain Aneurysm Foundation’s

AnnualBacheloretteAuction.Charlie’snamewasonthelistofbachelorettestobeauctioned.

“I called to make sure she was still attending—you know, what with her father under federal

investigation.”Mamawinkedathim.“Charlie’smotherdiedofabrainaneurysm.Shenevermissesthe
auction.”

“Iknowabouthermom.Shetoldmeallaboutit.”Hestillrememberedthelookonherfaceasshe

toldhimthestory.Shetrulyfeltlikeithadbeenherfault.Withtime,hehopedhecouldmakeherseethat
itwasn’t.

Mamasmackedhimonthechestwithherrag.“Stopfeelingsorryforyourselfandgogether.”

Chapter17

Thenextnight,Charlieleanedoverthesinkinherbathroomandappliedcherry-redlipgloss.Shewas
wearing a black vintage Yves Saint Laurent gown that had belonged to her mother. It was skintight and
veryAudreyHepburn.Thisdressmadeastatement:itsaidthatshewasn’tembarrassedtoshowherface
inpublic.

Asshewalkeddownthestairs,hermother’sopera-lengthTiffanyDiamondbytheYardnecklace

bouncedagainstherwaist.AddintheblackrhinestoneLoubies,andshewasstunning,ifshedidsayso
herself.

“Wow.”Bettsclapped.Shewaswearingamilk-chocolateminidressthatshowedoffhertrademark

redhair.“Youlookfantastic.Waytoshowtheworldyou’renothiding.”

“Way to give the gossips and the snotty upper classes the stiff middle finger.” Lucky nodded her

approval.Shewaswearingafire-engine-redsequindressthatcametohermid-thigh.

“Wealllookfantastic.”Charlieputanarmaroundeachofherfriends.“Thanksfordoingthis.”No

doubttonightwouldbedifficult,butshewantedtogetitoverwith.Shehadn’tdoneanythingwrong.She
wantedtoshowtheworldthatshecouldholdherheadhigh.

Therewasnodenyingthatshe’dhadatoughweek.Butlastnighthadbeentheicingonthecake.

SomeonehadboughttheDuplantisHousebeforeshe’devenbeenabletoputinanoffer.

Thatstung.Somuchforherplanstoreinventherlife.Nowshewasbacktosquareone.
Thirtyminuteslater,theywalkedintothegrandballroomoftheJWMarriotonCanalStreet.While

theballroom’sdécorwasalittletired,itwasstillgrandandlargeenoughtoholdseveralhundredpeople.

Astagewassetupatthebackoftheroomwhereabandplayedwatered-downjazzatareasonable

decibellevel.

Charliedidn’tmissasingleoneofthestaresaspeopletappedthearmsofthosewiththeirbacks

turned so they could turn around and behold the spectacle that was Charlie Guidry, former princess of
Louisiana.

Shefelthersmilefalter,butbothBettsandLuckygrabbedherhands.

Lucky leaned down and whispered, “Don’t let them see you sweat. Don’t give them the

satisfaction.”

“Ithinkthiswasabadidea.”Charliefelteveryeyeonher,andnoneofthemwerefriendly.She

remindedherselfthatprobablyagoodportionofthepeopleinthisroomwouldhavebenefitedfromthat
oilandgasbillherfatherhadbeenpaidtoveto.

“Shouldersback,chinup,boobsout,”Bettswhispered.“Justremember,we’reyourfamily.Your

biologicalfatherisnothingbutaspermdonor.”

“Andwereallyappreciatehiscontributiontomakingyou,”Luckysaidaroundtheblindingsmileon

her face. “None of these people matter. You’re a good person and we love you.” She looked over
Charlie’sheadtoBetts.“Iexpectforyoutobeinfulldivamode.IwanttoseethesepeoplekissCharlie’s
ass.Whichlooksamazinginthatdress,Ihavetotellyou.”

Charlie smiled for real as she wiggled her ass. “I know. All that CrossFit makes my ass

spectacular.”

CrossFitremindedherofWagner,butshekeptherheadhigh.

Anna-Julie Monseux Hornbuckle Dupree Givens Weinstein, wearing a dark-purple dress that

lookedlikeafadingbruise,madeherwayovertothem.

“It’ssogoodofyoutocome.”Anna-Juliemanagedtomakethatpolitegreetingsoundnasty.“Weall

thought,whatwithyourfather—”

“Facingjailtime,thatI’dforgotheauction?”CharliefacedoffagainstAnna-Julie.Shewastiredof

grinningandbearinglife.“Ifmyfatherisconvicted,maybehe’llendupinfederalprisoninTexarkana.
Want me to have him say hello to your father from you? How many more years does he have on his
sentence?”

Bettsjoinedtheconversation.“I’dforgottenaboutMr.Monseux.Wasitsevenmillionoreightthat

hestolefromFEMAafterHurricaneKatrina?”

“Ithinkitwasten.”Luckydidn’twanttobeleftout.
Anna-Julie’sfaceturnedashygreen.
“Youdon’tlookwell.Maybeyoushouldhaveanotherdrink.Or—”BettspointedtoAnna-Julie’s

latesthusband,FrankWeinstein.“Youshouldgoseetoyourhusbandbeforeheassaultsanotherteenaged
girl.”

Bettswasinittowinit.
“Oh wait, he isn’t the pedophile—that was your last husband. This one only gambles heavily.”

Luckywavedbye-byeandtheymoveddeeperintotheroom.“NoonefuckswithaMarilyn.”

“Damn,I’mimpressed.”Charlielookedaround.“Whoshouldweattacknext?”
“I’mstillgettingoveryouruseoftheworddamn.Thisnewyouissomuchfun.”Bettsgrinnedat

her.“Wait,isthatMillyTaylor?”

CharliefollowedBetts’slineofsight.“Yes,andit’sMillyTaylor-Whitenow.ShemarriedJudge

White.”

“He’slikefivehundredyearsold.”LuckylookedatMilly.“Christ,whathappenedtoherface?”
“Face-lift.”CharliehadfoundithardnottostareatMillyatthelastGardenDistrictGardenClub

meeting.

“Herface?Whathappenedtoherboobs?”Betts’smouthpracticallyfellopen.

Lucky squinted to get a better look. “Are they square? It looks like she stuffed two Puffs tissue

boxesdownthefrontofherdress.”

“Shehadanotherboobjobatthesametimeastheface-lift.”CharliesmiledandwavedatMilly,

who turned her back on Charlie. “Rumor is she got them both done in Costa Rica or Guatemala or
somewherelikethat.Shegotabuy-one-get-one-freespecial.”

“I’m all for saving money, but plastic surgery isn’t the place where you want to clip coupons.”

Bettsnoddedtowardthebar.“Let’sgetadrink.”

An hour later, Charlie walked out on stage after the emcee announced her. The master of

ceremonies, a man she didn’t know, looked at his note cards and then at her and then back at his note
cards.Heshookhisheadlikehewasn’tgoingtoreadwhatwasonthecardandinsteadannouncedagain,
“Gentlemen,MissCharlotteGuidry.”

BettsandLuckyclappedandwhistled.

AllofthemenstandingdownfrontavoidedeyecontactwithCharlie.
Fine,itlookedlikeshewasgoinghomewithBettsorLucky.

TheemceegesturedtowardCharlie.“Let’sstartthebiddingatonehundreddollars.”

Amaninthebackhelduphishand.Somethingaboutthathandwasfamiliar,butshecouldn’tmake

outwhohewas.

“DoIheartwohundred?”

Bettsraisedherhand.“Fivethousanddollars.”
“Tenthousand.”Luckywasbiddingagainstherbestfriend.

“Onehundredthousanddollars,”themaninthebackcalledout.
A hushed murmur rose from the crowd. The most a bachelorette had ever gone for was twelve

thousand,andthathadonlybeenbecausethebachelorette’sdaddyhadn’twantedhertogooutwiththe
manbiddingonher.

“I’msorry,canyourepeatthatbid?”Theemceeshadedhiseyesfromthelightsandtriedtoseethe

bidder.

AmaninaverywellcutArmanituxwalkedforward.“Onehundredthousanddollars.”
ItwasWagnerScott.

DamnifCharlie’sheartratedidn’tincrease.
Hehadn’tgonebacktoLA.
Hewashere.

He’dplayedher.
Sheturnedtotheemcee.“I’llgiveyouahundredandtenifIdon’thavetogooutwithhim.”
Wagnerlaughed.“Nowwaitaminute,Idon’tthinkyoucanbidagainstmejustsoyoudon’thaveto

gooutwithme.”

Everyonelookedatthemasterofceremonies,whoseemedtobeatalossforwords.
Wagnerjumpeduponstageandtookthemicfromthestunnedemcee.Hehelditupinfrontofhim.

“I’llseeyouronetenandraiseittotwohundredthousanddollars.”

Shehadthemoneyandcouldkeepthisupallnight.Thecharitycouldcertainlyusethedough.
He’dcomehereforher.
Hecouldn’tstillbeworkingforJeromebecauseshehadnosecretsforhimtolearn.

“Fivehundredthousanddollars,andthat’smyfinalbid.”Hesmiledatherandpulledapacketof

papersoutofhisjacketpocket.“Plus,I’llgiveherthis,forjustonedatewithme.”

Hehandedherthepapers.Sheunfoldedthem.ItwasthetitletotheDuplantisHouse.Thetitlewas

inhername.

He’dboughtit…forher.
Hiseyesimploredhertoforgivehim.“WhenwewentintotheDuplantisHouse,ItoldyouIhadan

unusual daydream. I didn’t see Angelique—or, well, not the Angelique who haunts the attic. I saw the
houseasitwillbewhenwerenovateittogether.Isawuslivingtherewithourtwodaughters,Angelique
andCherry-Kate.Webelongtogether.Ourbeginningwasn’tperfect,butourlifetogetherwillbe.”

Shewantedsobadlytobelieveit.

“Whatareyouwaitingfor?Kisshim,”someoneinthecrowdcalled.
CharliehadforgottentheywerestandingonastageandWagnerwasholdingamicrophone.

Hiseyeswerepleadingforhertoforgivehim.Heheldthemicclosetohismouthandsaid,“Ilove

you.”

Hewantedthewholeworldtoknowit.

This was it. This was the moment when she needed to take a leap of faith. Her life without him

seemedbleakandboring,butwithhimitwasfullofloveandlaughter.Shewasn’taleapoffaithtypeof
person.Shelikedpredictabilityandreassuranceandstability.

“Iloveyou.”Itwasoutbeforeherbraincouldstopit.Forthefirsttimeinherlifeshewasleading

withherheartinsteadofhermind.Shewrappedherarmsaroundhimandkissedhimhard.

Applauseexplodedfromthecrowd.
Hedroppedthemicandpickedherup,twirlingheraround.“Iloveyoutooandthoughit’salittle

late,Iwanttosay…I’msorry,Charlie.”

Epilogue

Sixyearslater

WagnerheldhishandsoverCharlie’seyesashecarefullyhelpedherdownthesteepstairs.Herhugely
pregnantbellythrewherbalanceoffandshebumpedintothewall.

Shelaughed.“What’sthebigsurprise?”
“Just wait and see.” They’d finally finished the house, just in time for Cherry-Kate’s arrival any

daynow.

“Butmybirthdayisn’tuntilnextweek.”Charliewaddledsafelydownthelaststair,andhehadto

admithefeltmorethanalittlerelief.“Whathaveyouandmybabyangelcookedup?”

BabyangelwasCharlie’snicknamefortheirfive-year-olddaughter,Angelique.
“Nopeeking,mommy.”Angeliquewavedherdaddyovertothetinytablesetfortea.Therewere

chairsforMommyandDaddyandAngeliqueandhernamesakewhostillstompedaroundtheattic.His
daughterspentafairamountoftimesittinginthehallnexttotheatticdoor,talkingtohernamesake.

He’d done his research. Children saw ghosts more often than adults. The theory was that their

developing minds were more open to the possibility than adults. Neither he nor Charlie had ever seen
Angeliquetheghost,buttheyfeltherpresence.They’ddoneeverythingtheycouldtohelpherfindpeace,
butshepreferredtostayhere.

HeremovedhishandsfromoverCharlie’seyesandsteppedbacktoshowherthesurprise.“It’sa

teaparty.”

“Yes.” Angelique bobbed her head and grinned from ear to ear, very excited about the surprise

they’d put together for Mommy. “Daddy and I got doberge cake from Haydel’s and petit fours and
éclairs.”Shejumpedupanddownandclappedherhands.“AndgelatofromBrocato’s.”

Theirdaughterhaddefinitelygottenhermother’ssweettooth,curlydark-chocolatehair,andcute-

as-a-buttonnose.Butshehadhisgreeneyes.

“This is just like the tea parties I used to have with my mother.” Charlie looked at Wagner and

smiled.“Icouldusesomehelpgettingintothischair.”

Hesteadiedherfrombehindasshesquatteddowntositinthechair.
Somethingatthetopofthestairscaughthisattention.Ateenagedgirlofaboutseventeen,withlong

blondehairandasadsmile,wavedgoodbye.

Henoddedhisthankstoher.Thiswaswhatshe’dshownhimthedayheandCharliehadfirstcome

insidethehouse.Nowheunderstood.ThiswaswhatAngeliquehadbeenwaitingforalloftheseyears.

She’d brought love and life back to this old house… her old house. She smiled at him. “I’ll be

seeingyouagainverysoon,”echoedthroughhisbrain.

Shewavedonemoretime,andthenshewasgone.

Charliehunchedoverandgrabbedthetable.
“Daddy.”Angeliquescreamed.“Something’swrongwithMommy.”
HewasdownonhiskneesatCharlie’sside.“Contractions?”

Herubbedaspotatherlowerback.
“Yes.”CharlieheldoutherhandtoAngelique.“Nothing’swrongwithme,babyangel.Itlookslike

you’llgettomeetyourbabysistersoon.”

Angelique took her mother’s hand and looked up at her father with wise green eyes and said,

“babiescomeoutofmommies’vaginas.”

“Thanksforthetip.”Hewinkedather.
Theoldhousecreakedandgroanedaroundthem,makingroomforthenextchapterinitshistory.

AbouttheAuthor

Katie Graykowski is an award-winning author who likes sassy heroines, Mexican food, movies

wherelotsofstuffgetsblownup,andglitternailpolish.ShelivesonahilltopoutsideofAustin,Texas
where her home office has an excellent view of the Texas Hill Country. When she’s not writing, she’s
scuba diving. Drop by her website www.katiegraykowski.com or send her an email at
katiegraykowski@me.com.