Kiss Lonely Goodbye (13 page)

“And we'll leave Russell in charge, with the staff reporting to him. Since we're expanding, it makes sense. Nicole, we're going to be out of the office more.” Marcus looked at Nicole.

“I'm so grateful, considering this company was started by my father,” Russell grumbled.

“Leave Russell in charge,” Nicole repeated the words in an undertone. She shook her head slowly. “I don't know.”

“I have experience in setting up an office, hiring staff, and getting things in place. We both need to go. Besides, the staff is pretty independent.”

“Well…” Nicole pursed her lips.

“Work with me on this,” Marcus said in a firm tone.

“Fine, okay.” Nicole forced the words out.

Russell stood. “At least Marcus is finally using common sense.” He walked out with his leather portfolio tucked under an arm.

“You're welcome,” Nicole called after him with a grimace.
She turned on Marcus. “What is this you and I going to Lake Charles business?”

Marcus sat back with a smile. “You nervous about being alone with me for that long?”

Nicole felt a flash of annoyance. Yet she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting on her last good nerve. Instead she forced a smile. “Of course not. All business. I'll make some phone calls and let you know.”

“Good. I'll get Imani's marketing survey and make some calls to prospective customers. Shelly has information on commercial real estate companies.” Marcus did indeed assume a brisk, professional manner.

Her annoyance deepened at his offhand attitude after pushing her buttons. “Fine,” she clipped and tapped the keyboard of her desktop computer.

“Excellent start to our new collaboration,” Marcus said.

The blazing look Nicole shot at him was wasted. All she saw was his broad back going out the door. With heroic self-restraint she held her tongue, until the door closed.

“Smart-assed, conceited chump,” she muttered and threw an ink pen.

Cat came in and ducked just in time for it to clatter against the frame. She closed the door behind her. “Hmm, I just got back from a coffee break. Let me guess. You had a meeting with Russell.”

“And Marcus,” Nicole spat. “Those two are really asking for it.”

“Look at it this way, you're the one in charge no matter how they kick.”

Nicole willed her jaws to relax. She breathed in and out deeply three times. Then she rested her head against the leather of her chair. “You're right. It's about time they find out just how in charge this lady can be.”

“That's what I'm talkin' 'bout,” Cat quipped with a mischievous grin. “Show 'em who they're dealing with as only a sister can. Now I've got these for you to sign.”

They went through payroll checks and other details that needed the CEO's approval. Cat talked about minor office management issues. Nicole nodded, signed, and offered a few comments. Still, her thoughts were on what promised to be a long two-hour trip with Marcus seated next to her.

“You are listening to me, right?” Cat eyed her.

“Of course.” Nicole signed the last paycheck and handed Cat the pile of papers. “I know a wonderful restaurant on the lake,” she murmured.

“Huh?” Cat gave her a puzzled look.

“Nothing, just planning to be in charge.” Nicole gave a short laugh and rocked her chair gently. “Yeah, we'll see who starts running scared.”

“Okay, I'm officially out of this conversation. What did I miss?” Cat put one hand on her hip.

Nicole laughed again. “Nothing, Cat. As usual you were two steps ahead of me. I'm going to put Russell and Marcus on notice. No drama, but they will get the message.”

“Firm, but fair,” Cat smiled and left.

“Firm, yes. No promises on being fair.” Nicole smiled as she turned her attention to the work on her desk.

 

Three days later Marcus drove the company Dodge Durango along Interstate 10 toward Louisiana. He made it a point not to glance at Nicole. She seemed strangely relaxed, and it disconcerted him. He'd been a lot more comfortable when she'd been the one off balance. Nicole seemed unaware he was trying to figure her out. She tapped a foot to the music coming from the radio and flipped another page of the trade magazine on private security.

“I'm guessing you haven't been to Louisiana often,” she said without looking at him.

“A grand total of two times, both with Mr. Summers. We met with two clients and came back. I was lucky we stopped for lunch someplace.” He edged the Durango up to seventy-five. The scenery whipped by.

“Now it's three.” Nicole nodded at the sign welcoming them to Louisiana. “I promise not to rush. If we get through early enough we can have dinner someplace nice. Preferably close to the lake.”

“Sounds good.”

Marcus risked a quick look at her. Nicole seemed absorbed by an article on preventing identity theft. He shifted in his seat. Static crackled from the speakers as they went out of range of the radio station. Before he could react, Nicole found another one. In seconds a driving zydeco rhythm surrounded them. A male vocalist sang in a husky basso timbre. The Creole French lyrics sounded both exotic and provocative. She hummed along.

“What is he saying?” he asked.

Nicole didn't answer immediately. After listening for several minutes she smiled. “I can only catch a few words. He's begging this woman named Therèse to be his lover, but she's not having it. He's trying to convince her they belong together. He tells her that the man she's chasing won't satisfy her.”

“You caught more than a few words,” Marcus said.

“It's an old song. My grandparents still live in a small town called Loreauville. They taught me a few things. M a parle kreyòle ye a trape li osi, to kòne.”

Her voice dipped into a throaty quality that sent a jolt of power up his spine. “Yeah, whatever you said,” he murmured.

When she laughed the electricity snapped elsewhere in his anatomy. The sound tapped into a place inside him that Mar
cus didn't know existed. For the first time his unease turned to apprehension. This woman was reaching too deep for comfort. Then she glanced at him with an enigmatic smile that played across her alluring, full mouth. His apprehension evaporated in an instant. In its place was desire. She seemed to offer him a chance to taste something wild, like a moonlit night on the banks of a bayou. He looked ahead at the highway to counter her effect on his senses. His imagination spun out of control and she hadn't even touched him. Marcus cleared his throat.

“I said ‘When I speak Creole they will catch it too, you know.'”

“Okay.” He wondered if there was any truth to those legends about voodoo love spells.

“My mother's parents are fluent, but most of the younger generations don't speak Creole French at all. In the past five years I've made it my hobby to learn. Louisiana Creole French is one of the most endangered languages around,” Nicole said with a serious expression.

“I didn't realize.”

“Not many people know about it. It's different from Cajun French in some ways, but mostly the words and phrasing are the same.” Nicole seemed to warm to the subject.

“Fascinating subject, Creole culture, I mean.” Marcus found this side of her intriguing.

Nicole's eyes lit up. “How much do you know?”

“Very little. My father's great-grandmother came from somewhere called LaFourche. Is that right?” He glanced at her.

“LaFourche Parish. Mais yeah, chere! You've got Creole in your veins.” Nicole grinned back.

Marcus shook his head. “Maybe. I don't know anything else. My father didn't hang around long, and his family didn't keep in touch.”

“Your parents divorced, huh? Tough.”

“They were never married. My old man wasn't big on responsibility.” Marcus wondered why he was sharing such details with her. He rarely talked about his dysfunctional family background.

“Too bad. Do you ever see him?” Nicole turned in her seat. Her interest seemed genuine, caring even.

“Nah, I got tired of visiting him in prison. He always wants money.” Marcus clamped his back teeth together.

“I'm really sorry,” she said softly.

“Don't be. I hardly know the man.” Marcus forced a lighter tone to his voice. “My coach in high school did more for me. We still keep in touch.”

“That's great.” Nicole continued to study him.

“I'm going to pick up some zydeco CDs. Any recommendations?” He wanted to get off the subject of his family.

“Try on some Buckwheat Zydeco to start. Speak of the devil, as my Tante Marie used to say. That's him.” Nicole turned up the radio. A new song blared out.

They talked about the music, food, and culture of south Louisiana. Marcus found himself more interested than he realized. His connection to his father's family had always been tenuous at best. As Nicole went on with vivid descriptions of summers spent in rural Creole country, the hint of a Creole accent came through.

“Here I was thinking you were a big-city girl.” Marcus smiled.

“I am really. Once I got to be a know-it-all teenager, hanging out with poules and kochons wasn't too cool.”

“Translate again please,” Marcus said.

“Chickens and pigs.” Nicole laughed hard. “My great-grandparents inherited a farm. Passed down from the French slave master they kind of blackmailed.”

“Sounds like you've got some high-class skeletons in your closet.” Marcus looked at her.

“Don't tell my mother I mentioned it. She and my aunts like to give a different version of the family tree.” Nicole wore an impish grin.

“Cleaned it up I suppose.”

“You betcha.”

“But you found out the family secret.”

“My great-grandmother got a little senile in her golden years. I'd listen to her stories. Mama and Grandmamma had no idea what an education I got.” Nicole wiggled her eyebrows like a little girl who'd gotten away with being bad.

“You'll have to tell me some of them,” Marcus said and gazed at her.

“Name the time and place,” she replied, then blinked rapidly, as though bewildered. They exchanged a glance, then both became self-conscious.

“Anyway, about these potential customers.” Marcus was eager to get back on safer ground, at least for him.

“Right. Let's go over these profiles you put together.” Nicole looked away from him.

For the rest of the ride they studiously avoided any kind of personal disclosure. Marcus felt a mixture of relief and disappointment in a strange way. He hadn't felt so mixed up around a female since first discovering girls as a thirteen-year-old. Forced to cope, Marcus did his best to concentrate on the meetings ahead. Nicole seemed to recover much more quickly, a tiny blow to his male ego that he did his best to mentally shrug off. By the time they entered Calcasieu Parish, Marcus felt drained. Not a good sign, since he would make the presentations to two major companies. Nicole's voice jerked him out of his reverie.

“Ready?” She stuffed a thick file into her soft leather Dooney & Bourke briefcase.

“I've read and reread at least three sources on both Daigre and Sons Construction and Ellender Real Estate.”

Marcus knew the companies on paper. Unfortunately his mind kept skipping back to her smile, the scent of her skin, her eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah, I'm ready.” He damn well would be even if it killed him.

“Good, because I'm nervous. Man, it feels good being able to confess. Thanks for being supportive in spite of the circumstances.” Nicole glanced at him.

“You're welcome.” Marcus didn't risk returning her gaze. An unfamiliar feeling crawled over his skin like a small insect. Guilt.

“T
hose meetings went so well it's downright scary. We're hot!” Nicole clapped her hands together and grinned. Then she started the Durango. Marcus had agreed she should drive, since she knew the city.

It had been one o'clock in the afternoon when they'd finished their meeting with Ellender Real state. A medium-sized business specializing in large commercial properties, the vice president had grilled them for well over two hours. The gruff man had finally hired them.

“You charmed his socks off. Some technique, Ms. Benoit.” Marcus made notes as he spoke. “I was sure he'd say no.”

Nicole wove in and out of traffic skillfully. “He's really a softie inside, kinda like my uncle Alton. He'd done his homework, too. The man is no fool.”

“You had him purring like a big tame cat by the time we left.” Marcus finally stopped writing. He put his pen in an inside pocket of his coat and closed the portfolio. “I'd say you've had lots of practice getting your way with men.”

“Scared?” Nicole went around a line of cars backed up behind someone trying to make a left turn.

“Of you or your driving?” Marcus wisecracked.

“Take your pick, Mr. Big Stuff.”

“Neither.”

She laughed. “Yeah, you'd have to say that to prove you're a big strong guy.”

Marcus surprised her by laughing too. He seemed to relax for the first time since they'd left Houston. Nicole felt like they had crossed another boundary in their relationship. She felt less and less like he was an object of conquest, much to her chagrin. Liking him too much had not been in her plan. But the fire that had reached down to the soles of her feet when they'd kissed had not been in her plan either. Beyond that mind-bending experience was the magnetism he seemed to exert on her senses. There was no denying it, she enjoyed his wry sense of humor and respected his intelligence. They drove on in a companionable silence.

“So, where is this place that puts eating anywhere else to shame?”

“Mr. D's On The Bayou, best seafood around. In my humble opinion.” Nicole turned down Common Street and pulled into the restaurant parking lot. “Here we go. You're going to thank me all the way back to Houston.”

“We'll see.”

Nicole couldn't see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses. Still, she was sure there was a teasing twinkle in them. She walked beside him, very conscious of his tall, imposing figure. Female gazes slid sideways whenever they passed by.
Yeah, girls. He's with me.
Once seated, Marcus took her recommendations on what to order. They laughed and talked during the meal, about business and the city's history.

“Dessert?” The pretty, dark-eyed Cajun waitress beamed at them both.

“No indeed. I'm two seconds away from bursting open.” Nicole patted her lips with the white cotton napkin.

“Nothing for me either.” Marcus reached inside his pocket and took out his credit card.

“No, I'll get the check,” Nicole said as she put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Tradition.” Marcus dropped the card into the small tray with the bill. “Anyway, it's the company account.”

“My hero,” Nicole teased.

“I thought you'd appreciate my enlightened approach. Women don't want to be taken care of or rescued these days.” Marcus sipped from the tall glass of iced tea.

“Why in the world would I insult a wealthy dude whose main joy is buying me anything I want?” Nicole said with a grin.

“You intend to follow the family custom of marrying rich?” Marcus put the glass down and gazed at her.

Something in his eyes tugged at Nicole's insides. “That was a joke. I'm not
that
superficial.”

“Oh,” he said blandly.

“Besides, my ex-husband cured me of rich chumps,” she joked. Still, he must have seen past her attempt at humor.

“Hurt that bad.” He tilted his head to one side.

“Not even money could make it worth it.” Nicole made a sour face and drank more diet cola.

“How long were you married?”

“Four hellish years if you count the year we were separated.” She raised her glass in a salute. “I don't care what people say, thank the Lord for divorce lawyers.”

“I'm guessing you two don't speak.”

“Your guessing is on target, my friend. Those made-for-
television movies lie. It's not easy to hire hit men.” Nicole gave a short graveyard laugh.

“I'm sorry he mistreated you,” Marcus said in a quiet tone. He looked away when she gazed into his eyes.

“Maybe we should change the subject. This is a celebration.” Nicole drained her glass of cola.

“Right.” He tugged at his jacket lapel as though putting on his business persona again.

After another quick run through their presentation, they left the restaurant. Neither said much during the ride to their last meeting of the day. For three hours they met with two astute businessmen. They sat in the large, yet functional, office of Joe Daigre. His oldest son, Damien, sat to his father's right at the round cherry wood table in a corner of Joe's office. Marcus watched Nicole work. She demonstrated that she'd done her homework.

Joe Daigre's thick eyebrows formed a line. “We'll study your proposal and get back to you.”

“I travel to Houston quite frequently. Maybe we can get together,” Damien said directly to Nicole.

Marcus nodded to him. “Sounds great. We can schedule something right now.”

“I'll give you my card,” Nicole said smoothly.

They wrapped up the meeting a few moments later. They walked out with Joe Daigre beside Marcus. Damien and Nicole followed them down the hall.

“Have a safe drive back to Houston.” Damien's copper eyes glittered when he glanced at Nicole.

He strolled off, one hand in his custom silk blend dress pants pocket. The muscles in Marcus's jaw rippled. He opened the door for Nicole and followed her to the Durango. Neither spoke for thirty minutes as Nicole drove them out of the city. She glanced at Marcus several times. He seemed
more interested in checking e-mail on his cell phone. Then he turned his attention to the contents of his briefcase.

“I think the meeting went well. The father doesn't like dealing with women when it comes to business, though. But toward the end I chipped away at the old rock.” Nicole spoke in a lighthearted tone.

“Good.”

“He knows my family. That always helps.” Nicole pressed the accelerator and activated the cruise control.

“I wouldn't know. Never had connections, family or otherwise.” Marcus rattled a hand full of papers.

“Don't try to tell me nobody ever gave you help.”

“After I worked my butt off.” Marcus made notes in the margins of a page.

“There you go. Connections.” Nicole lifted a shoulder.

“Based on ability, not my last name.” Marcus looked at her, then went back to his notes.

“Well, excuse me for being born a Summers. But the fact remains that you have connections. Admit it.” Nicole grinned at him.

“If you say so.”

More silence. Nicole decided to try again. “You made an impression on the old dude, Joe I mean. Another connection.”

“You definitely impressed his son. He did everything but kiss the back of your hand.” Marcus pressed the ink pen harder as he wrote in short, stabbing motions.

“He poured on the charm. All part of business. Damien is as tough as his father, just has a different style.” Nicole felt his vibe in waves. “You okay over there?”

“Sure.”

Nicole glanced at the papers balanced on his knee. “Don't see how you're going to be able to read your own handwriting. And just what do you mean?”

“The guy was making a play for you.” Marcus stopped writing. “Don't tell me you didn't notice.”

“Oh, I noticed big time.” Nicole laughed.

Marcus didn't crack a smile. He rattled the papers louder as he shoved them into his briefcase and took out a folder. “Right.”

“My goodness, he disapproves!” Nicole glanced at him, then at the highway again. “I couldn't exactly shoot him down.”

“Whatever.”

“C'mon, he didn't do anything overtly offensive.”

“If you say so.” Marcus pursed his lips as though pressing back more words.

“Okay, what,” Nicole said finally after ten seconds of the silent treatment.

“Forget it. Since you didn't seem to mind anyway.”

“The guy just did a little exploratory flirting. I deflected it. End of story. We'll get his account because he knows we're good.”

“I'm just saying we don't need to sacrifice our image or principles to get him to sign up,” Marcus muttered. More paper rustled, but quieter.

“I know what this is about, Marcus. Okay, I'm used to having a certain amount of privilege based on my family name. And yes, I don't exactly protest if a guy likes the way I look and that smoothes the way. However, I do have some pride.”

“I didn't mean—”

“Damien Daigre will talk to you from now on. He'll get the message.”

Marcus didn't answer immediately. He lowered the folder he held and studied her for a time. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Nicole stared ahead at the gray pavement.

Remarkably, she wasn't angry. In fact, in the last few weeks she'd examined herself more than she ever had before.
Nicole wanted to prove she could take Summers Security to an entirely new definition of success. She wanted the company to be a top performer.

“You've really done a lot of hard work these last few weeks,” he said finally, as though he'd read her thoughts.

“Yes, I have. Like I said before, this isn't a game to me anymore. Besides, I'd like to rub Russell's nose in it when I succeed.”

Unexpectedly Marcus laughed deep in his throat. The sensuous sound wrapped around her body. Nicole's breathing kicked up several notches.

“You haven't changed completely from those old ways.”

“Sorry, I'll try harder.” Nicole smiled without looking at him.

“Not necessary, at least not for me,” Marcus said.

His tone sent a serious shiver up her spine. “Thanks. I didn't think you cared,” she replied.

“Russell deserves a little payback. So do I, come to think of it. Those first few days I—”

“Was less than thrilled,” she finished for him. “I know. But we're beyond that now, so let's forget it. Deal?”

“You got it, boss lady.” Marcus wore an impish expression.

“You had to go and mess up our new relationship.” Nicole gave a theatrical sigh.

He laughed again. “Okay, okay. No more ‘boss lady' digs.”

The rest of the ride flowed along like a pleasant outing. Marcus relaxed again. Little by little she was chipping away at the Stone Prince. The man admired a serious approach to business. Nicole felt like she belonged at Summers Security. His acceptance of her made the real difference.

 

The next morning Nicole hummed a tune as she pushed through the double doors leading to the Summers Security
office suite. She waved to Imani and Jacinta as they rounded a corner.

“How is everything?” she said in a cheery tone.

“Great, peachy.” Jacinta's mouth turned down at the corners, giving her round face a sour look.

“Thank God you and Marcus made it back. Never leave us again.” Imani caught Nicole's free hand and squeezed it.

“What is up with you two? Today is beautiful, we've got happy customers again, and the weekend is only two days away. Life is just about perfect.” Nicole grinned and walked toward her office.

“Sure. We've got a meeting. See you later,” Imani said, her tone dry. She and Jacinta headed off.

“Maybe we can have lunch, ladies,” Nicole called as she waved goodbye to them cheerily. The two women each mumbled an assent as they walked away.

“Hey, Cat. You look fresh as a Louisiana peach in picking season.” Nicole scooped up a stack of mail and messages from the tray with her name on it.

“Look who's singing like the blue bird of happiness. No wonder, you didn't have to put up with Russell for a day,” Cat grumbled.

“I've put up with him since I was born,” Nicole wisecracked.

Cat's frown deepened. “You had parents to protect you. We were defenseless.”

“Oh, come on. How bad could it have been?” Nicole headed into her office with Cat on her heels.

“Should I begin with the five memos he put out before lunchtime?” Cat let out a snort of disgust. “I thought I was the queen of nitpicking. And I don't need a lecture on how to answer the telephone properly.”

“You should be used to him by now.” Nicole turned on her
computer. “Anyway, I tried to make sure he couldn't be too much of a pimple on your butt.”

“Very funny,” Cat retorted and dropped into a chair. “You had to make things worse by letting him think he was in charge of something.”

“Well, sorta kinda. We didn't get any 911 calls while we were in Lake Charles. So, I think y'all are exaggerating.” Nicole settled into her leather chair and shuffled through the mail.

“The trip went very well, I take it.”

“I actually felt like I knew what I was talking about, Cat. I think we can open offices in New Orleans and Lake Charles sooner than I thought.” Nicole wore a feline smile of satisfaction. “Take that, all you Nicole skeptics.”

“How wonderful. Just don't sick Russell on me again, or I can't be held responsible for the result. By the way, Mr. Phoung called twice. I put his message on top. You might want to call him first, considering.”

“You're more priceless than rubies.” Nicole dropped the stack of mail and punched in his phone number. She knew it by heart.

Mr. Phoung sounded as though he still felt leery of their services, but he did thank her for all the attention they'd given him. Nicole used her best diplomacy to mention his role in the security breaches. Mr. Phoung's tone softened considerably.