The Taming of a Wild Child (14 page)

“Actually, I can. I’ve seen you in action, remember?”

Donovan seemed totally sincere, and that meant more to her than she’d expected.

“I don’t know why you’re
so
surprised, though. You made a toast at the wedding.”

“Yes, but that was Vivi’s choice.
I
was under very strict supervision by my mother the whole time.” She rolled her eyes at the memory. “Not only did Mom oversee the writing of it, but I’d been threatened to within an inch of my life if I mucked it up. That toast was the first sip of alcohol that crossed my lips that night.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “You certainly made up for it later.”

“Very funny.”

“Is your mom going to supervise this one, as well?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t think so. It seems I’ve proven myself now and don’t need maternal speechwriting tips anymore.”

“And you haven’t been threatened within an inch of your life either, I take it?”

“Amazingly, no. Six months of good behavior was all it took.”

“Six months? I thought this was all just while Vivi was out of town.”

“God, no.” She sighed. “
That
would have been
so
much easier. But as you quoted me—”

“Paraphrased you,” he corrected.

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “It’s not been an easy task to get to this point. I had to lay the groundwork first. Go low-profile, behave myself, show proper atonement for the sins of my youth. If I hadn’t done that, then I wouldn’t have been able to ‘prove myself’ these past few weeks.”

“I had no idea you’d put so much thought into this plan.” Understanding crossed his face. “No wonder you were so worried about that mention in the paper. Or getting caught leaving my hotel room.”

“Exactly.”

He lifted his glass again. “Well, it seems you formed a worthy plan and that it worked out exactly like you hoped. Cheers.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Donovan refilled her glass. “Now that you’ve accomplished those parts of the plan, what’s next?”

“Do I have plans for world domination, you mean? Plans to stage a coup and steal Vivi’s place as the saint of New Orleans?” She leaned back against the cushions and got comfortable.

“Something like that.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want Vivi’s life. I now know that for a fact. All that love comes with a price tag I’m not willing to pay. I’ll never be a pillar of society, but that’s not really me anyway.”

He sat at the other end. “I agree.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

“I’d be very disappointed to see you end up exactly like your mother.”

Lorelei pushed herself up. “Hey, careful now …”

“It’s not an insult against your mother, so there’s no need to get your back up.”

Temporarily mollified, she let him continue.

“I just don’t see you as the matron and patron of social and civic clubs who lunches more than anything else.”

That gave her pause. “You know, I don’t see me there either—although I think my mother is already ordering me white gloves and filling out my paperwork for junior membership in the Ladies’ Auxiliary Guild as we speak. I just have to find the happy medium before it gets out of hand.”

Donovan looked surprised. “Do you not
want
to be in the Ladies’ Auxiliary Guild?

“Not really.”

“Isn’t that some kind of status symbol, though?”

“Yes, but they don’t
really
do anything other than lunch. They used to, but it’s kind of lost its focus. I think I’d rather spend my time a bit more productively.” She hadn’t really thought it through before, so the realization was new to her, too. “There are so many worthy causes where I could really make a difference. I need to use my time effectively to make the most impact and do the most good.” The look on Donovan’s face had her laughing. “Yes, I know. It’s a bit surprising to me, too. Look at me—I’m growing as a person. I’m no Vivi, but I’m rather liking this Lorelei.”

“I rather like Lorelei, too,” he said with a quiet laugh.

Her heart flopped over in her chest at his words, and the air felt really heavy all of a sudden. The silence was deafening as
something
shifted between them.

Then Donovan cleared his throat. “Uh … more champagne?”

“Yes! Please.” She still had almost half a glass, and she stuck it out so fast the contents sloshed over the rim. Donovan reached for her hand and slowly licked the drops of liquid away. The feel of his tongue on her skin brought a different and far more familiar tension into the air, and Lorelei grabbed the shift in mood gratefully. Donovan looked up and that sexy grin sent little tingles all over her skin in anticipation.

“This gives me ideas.”

“I think I’m quite interested in these ideas.”

With a leer, Donovan pulled her to her feet and grabbed the champagne bucket off the table. She followed him quickly up the stairs, glad to leave whatever that disturbing moment was behind.

O
N DAYS LIKE TODAY
even the locals were allowed to complain about the weather. The heat hit Lorelei like a wall the minute she stepped onto her porch, and the humidity was so high she could almost see the moisture in the air.

Today was the kind of day that should be spent sitting very still with a cold drink, but of course today was the day she had a million things to do. Post office, bank, drop off paychecks at the studio and the art gallery … all the minutiae of her life. Thankfully Vivi would be home the day after tomorrow and would take back her own errands and minutiae.

A frantic, panicked search for her iPad hadn’t exactly gotten her day off to a great start, but she’d called Donovan—waking him up—and he’d found it under the couch, where it had slid out of her bag. Although he’d grumbled about it, he had agreed to meet her to return it.

After listening to the weather report this morning she’d skipped make-up altogether—it wouldn’t have stayed on anyway—and pulled her hair up into a clip off her neck. She was wearing as little clothing as decency and good taste allowed, but sweat still rolled down her spine as she crossed one errand after the other off her list. Now she was running a little late to meet Donovan, but
actually
running was out of the question. Not in this heat. She had too much to do today to take time out for heatstroke.

Red-faced, sunburned, equally sweaty tourists meandered in the streets, going into shops primarily for the air-conditioning. Lorelei resisted that urge, since she only had two blocks to go, but she opened the door to the little coffee shop on Magazine Street gratefully and stood there for a moment enjoying the cool air.

Donovan was at a table over in the corner, reading something on his phone. He, too, was dressed in deference to the weather, and Lorelei fought back a grin. He looked much younger and not at all serious and punditlike in a grey T-shirt, khaki shorts and running shoes.
Wow, great calves
. How had she not noticed that before?

He was unshaven, hair slightly mussed, managing to hit that sweet spot between adorable and yummy perfectly. He looked up as she approached, and his smile tipped the scale in favor of yummy.

“Hey,” he said, putting away his phone. “You look …” his lips twitched “… really hot.”

“Hush. It’s the armpit of hell out there.” She dropped her bag on the chair and caught the server’s eye.

“Yes, it is. Tell me again why I had to come out in it?”

“Because I still have to go to Vivi’s to water the plants and drop off paychecks at the studio and then go back out to Mom’s. I wasn’t about to go all the way to your place, too.” When the server came around, she ordered a large iced tea and got settled into the seat across from Donovan.

“Aw, so you just wanted to see me? How sweet.”

He said it teasingly, but it hit a chord inside her. She
did
miss seeing him. But, looking at the smirk on his face, she knew she’d be able to ice skate on the sidewalk out front before she’d admit it. “I’m organized. This is a natural breaking point to my errands today.”

“Why do you have to go back out to your parents’?” His eyebrows drew together in concern. “Is everything okay?”

The show of concern touched her. “Just party stuff. That’s why I need my iPad.”

He slid it across the table with a grin. “Maybe you’re not so organized after all.”

“Well, if you hadn’t distracted me last night I might not have—”

“Lorelei?”

She turned, looking for the voice, and froze.
Awkward
. “Cynthia. Wow, this is a surprise.” She finally got herself moving to stand and accept Cynthia’s hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” When Cynthia’s father had gone to jail, most of their assets had been seized, and the DuBois family had been forced to move to Chalmette. Shamed, they’d all but disappeared.

Cynthia’s voice was cold and stilted. “This
is
a surprise.” She looked pointedly at Donovan. “Quite a big one.”

Oh, yeah,
really
awkward.
What to do?
Good manners said one thing; common sense said something else entirely. But since Cynthia didn’t seem willing just to move on and let this pass without comment, she fell back on good manners to try to control it. “Cyn, I don’t know if you’ve ever actually
met
Donovan St. James before?”

“No, I haven’t.” Each excruciatingly polite word could cut glass. Lorelei was giving Cynthia the opportunity to walk away, but Cynthia wasn’t taking it. “Please do introduce us.”

Donovan shot her a questioning look as he stood, obviously aware that there was something going on, but still acting as if this would be a somewhat normal introduction. “Awkward” quickly morphed into “downright uncomfortable.”

“Donovan, this is Cynthia DuBois.” Donovan didn’t seem to make the connection, but DuBois was a common enough name. “Lincoln DuBois’s daughter,” she clarified.

The name dropped like a gauntlet. Donovan finally twigged to the problem and the hand he’d begun to extend fell back to his side. “I see. I’d say nice to meet you, but I, too, will go with this is a surprise.”

Cynthia shot Donovan a look of pure hate, then dismissed him rudely, pulling Lorelei a few feet away and turning her back on him completely. “What the sweet hell are you doing with Donovan St. James?”

“Well … I …”

“Good God, Lorelei. Have you lost your mind?”

“No, I—”

Cynthia wasn’t waiting for explanations. Her head might explode if she didn’t calm down. “After what he
did
, you and he are—?”

Oh, God, this was going to be ugly. Lorelei lowered her voice in the hope Cynthia would do the same. “Cyn, calm down.”

“I will
not
calm down. He destroyed my family, my
life
.”

Even Lorelei knew that Lincoln DuBois and his cronies were completely responsible for their own destruction; the fallout on their families was also their own fault. But she understood the feelings of Cynthia and the others, too. And, if she was honest with herself, a few weeks ago she’d
shared
them.

“Do your parents know about this?”

Ice slid down her spine. “What?”

“That you’re all chummy with him? Are you dating him or something?”

Cynthia was practically shouting, and they now had the attention of everyone in the shop. Thankfully it wasn’t
that many people, but an audience only made this worse. “Cyn, it’s not worth the outrage.”

“Then what are you doing, exactly?”

“Donovan is …” She couldn’t bring herself to look in his direction as she searched for an excuse. “Donovan is a major donor to one of Connor’s projects. I’m Connor’s assistant, remember?”

“So this is a business meeting?”

“Yes, business.” Lorelei was surprised at how easily the lie came off her tongue. Self-preservation had obviously improved her acting ability.

Her eyes narrowed. “Here? Dressed like
that?
”

Cynthia had at least one good point. Not only was she not dressed particularly businesslike—even for the lackadaisical dress code of the music business—the powerful air-conditioning had cooled her enough that her nipples were now showing through her shirt. She certainly didn’t look very professional.

“Cyn—”

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your ‘meeting.’ Just make sure you get as much money out of him as you can. Since he made quite a bit of it from destroying my family, consider it a donation from me, as well. At least his ill-gotten gains will serve some good.”

Cynthia needed a reality check, but this was neither the time nor the place. Her family’s money was the ill-gotten gains; Donovan had just been the one to call them on it.

Their server, who must have somehow missed hearing Cynthia’s tirade, returned with Lorelei’s drink and set it on the table. Then she turned to Cynthia and asked innocently, “Will you be joining them?”

Cynthia’s laugh was sharp and brittle. “Not even if you paid me.”

“Oh … um … okay, then.” The server looked around uncomfortably,
and Lorelei mentally doubled the poor girl’s tip. Finally she asked, “Well, can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m leaving.”

The server scurried away, relief written on her face, and Cynthia turned back to Lorelei, anger and disappointment etched equally across her face.

“Lorelei, I just don’t know what to say.”

Desperate to smooth things, Lorelei said the first thing that came to mind. “Call me soon, okay? We’ll go to lunch.”

Cynthia gave her the tiniest of nods. Then, turning to Donovan, Cynthia twisted her mouth into a snarl. “You can just go to hell.” On that note, she picked up Lorelei’s tea and dumped it into Donovan’s lap. Then she stormed out.

“Oh, my God.” Lorelei called over to the server to bring towels as Donovan picked the ice cubes out of his lap. “Sorry about that.”

Donovan waved away the apology. “I guess I should be glad you ordered iced tea and not hot. I just hope it wasn’t sweet tea. I’d hate to be wet
and
sticky.”

Relieved Donovan wasn’t going to be angry, Lorelei took the towels from the server—whose tip had just been quadrupled—and tried to help clean up. “I think that’s what they call a classic case of misplaced anger.”

“I’ve heard worse.” He held up a hand. “I’ve got this, Lorelei.” After using the towels to mop up the worst of it, Donovan left cash on the table and headed toward the door. Lorelei added another twenty to the pile as an apology to the server and followed him.

“Did you drive?” When he shook his head, she said, “Neither did I. It’s a long walk in wet pants, though. Want to see if we can find a cab?”

“It’s fine. In a few minutes I’m sure the wet fabric will feel refreshing in this heat. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait, I’ll go with you.”

Donovan might not be angry, per se, but he certainly wasn’t finding this funny, either. “Not necessary. Go finish your errands.”

Something was
very
wrong. “Okay. I’ll see you tonight?”

Donovan merely nodded.

She watched him leave. That had not gone well. She never would have thought Cynthia DuBois the type to make a big public scene like that. Obviously the last few years had changed her and made her bitter.

Lorelei was feeling a little bitter herself. In her anger at Donovan, Cynthia had ruined Lorelei’s day, as well.
What a spoiled brat
.

And, while it wasn’t her fault, Lorelei still felt as if she owed Donovan an apology.

He should have recognized Cynthia DuBois—she’d stared him down the entire time he’d been on the witness stand at the trial that had sent her father to jail—but the intervening years hadn’t been kind to her. The DuBois family had not been sent into poverty, but they’d lost most of their money, and without that, Cynthia had lost her expensive shine.

He had to give her credit; her honest reaction was a nice change from the cold shoulders and avoidance by the other families involved and their friends. While it hadn’t been personal—at least not for him—he wasn’t stupid or naive enough to believe that she hadn’t taken it personally. Honestly, he should be glad Cynthia had only dumped a drink into his lap. Lanelle DuBois, Cynthia’s mother, had slapped him in front of a full press conference, in addition
to questioning his ethics, his intelligence, his heritage and his legitimacy. At least Cynthia had restrained herself more than her mother had.

But neither Cynthia’s insults nor his wet pants were what was bothering him hours after the fact. It was Lorelei.

The look that had crossed her face when she’d heard her name …

He couldn’t quite describe it. The closest he’d come was an adolescent “oh-God-I’m-so-busted” look—one that encompassed guilt and shame and worry about repercussions.

And it had crossed her face
before
she’d turned—
before
she’d seen that it was Cynthia DuBois.

The only explanation was that she’d considered herself “busted” no matter
who
it had been.

Even worse, though, was the echo of it he’d seen when Cynthia had asked if her parents “knew.”

If he hadn’t known already, that look would have answered the question with a big fat “no.” The fact that Lorelei didn’t want her social life overshadowing her attempts at redemption in Vivi’s absence was a fair enough reason to keep their association quiet, but that had been
horror
at the thought of her parents finding out.

He pulled a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter, not sure what to make of today’s events. He wasn’t happy, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why …

The bell on the back gate chimed, announcing Lorelei’s arrival, and he reached for the button to release the lock. A minute later Lorelei was at the French doors.

She was still in the tank top and shorts she’d worn earlier, and carried a leather bag strapped across her chest.

“Hey.” She rose up on tiptoes to for a quick kiss. “Careful—I’m all sweaty.”

“Did you walk here?”

“Of course I walked. I try not to drive in the Quarter unless I have to—much less on a Saturday night. It’s too easy to get frustrated and decide to take out a pedestrian or two.” She removed the bag and set it on the counter, flashing a cheeky smile. “I figured if I got too sweaty you wouldn’t object to a shower.” She motioned to his beer. “Can I have one of those?”

He got another one, and she took a long swallow before digging into her bag and producing a small blue gift bag tied with a white ribbon. She handed it over almost shyly.

“What’s this?”

“A present, silly. Open it.”

He did, to find a generic CD with
Monty Jones/Connor Mansfield
and a date written in her handwriting across the front. He looked at her in confusion.

“I saw you had some Monty Jones in your collection, and he was at the studio about a month ago, jamming with Connor. I made a few phone calls this afternoon and got the okay to burn you a disk. It was a casual thing for them, and none of it has been through post-production, but it’s pretty good.”

It was a personal and thoughtful gift. He was oddly touched. “Thanks, Lorelei.”

He could tell she’d been worried when she broke into a smile. “Well, you didn’t seem like a flowers kind of guy and I needed an opening salvo.”