“No, I don’t think so.”
“So we just sit back and let whoever the fucker is use us as his own private ATM?”
“Nope.” Savannah smiles brightly, her pretty face lighting up. “I want to bring Kate O’Shaughnessy in.”
“Your college friend?” I glance at Beau, who has no expression on his face whatsoever. Typical.
“This is what she does for a living.”
“She looks over people’s shoulders for a living? She must be everyone’s favorite person.”
“You’re on a roll today,” Beau says quietly.
“Kate works with companies who are dealing with embezzlement. She comes in as a regular employee and blends in, investigating on the down-low.”
“Can she actually do the job? It won’t work if she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“She has an MBA, Eli. But I want to put her in as an administrative assistant. They see and know everything, and they talk to each other. She’s likable.”
“Okay, works for me.” I glance at Beau. “You?”
“I think it’s the way to go,” he agrees. “None of us have time to do it ourselves, and I don’t trust handing this off to anyone else. Like Van said, people talk. I’d like to keep this quiet. Kate will sign all the necessary non-disclosure agreements, and from what I’ve heard, she’s excellent at her job.”
“One thing,” Van says and leans forward to stare at me, the way she does when I’m about to be in deep trouble. “You’re not allowed to mess around with her.”
“I’m not an asshole, Van…”
“No, you’re not allowed to get your man-whore hands on her.”
“Hey! I am not—”
“Yeah, you are,” Beau says with a grin.
I sigh and roll my shoulders. “Not having the same date twice doesn’t make me a whore.”
Van simply raises a brow. “Leave her be.”
“I’m a professional, Van. I don’t sleep with the employees.”
“Is that what you said to that assistant that sued us a few years back?”
“Anymore.”
“God.” Van shakes her head as Beau laughs. “She’s a nice woman, Eli.”
Instead of replying, I simply narrow my eyes at my sister and swivel in my chair. Kate’s a grown woman, one I’m most likely not attracted to anyway.
It’s been a few years since much of anything has held my interest for long. That would require feeling something.
“Call her.”
Chapter One
Kate
“Hello?” I ask breathlessly as the cab I’m in whizzes down the interstate, heading directly for the heart of New Orleans.
“Where are you?” Savannah asks with a smile in her voice.
“In the cab on the way from the airport. Are you sure I shouldn’t check into a hotel room?”
“No way, Bayou Industries owns a beautiful loft that we’ll pretend you’re renting while you’re here. Come directly to the office. I have a meeting, so I won’t be able to greet you, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I reply and bite my lip as the cabbie cuts off another motorist and my stomach rolls. “I’m hoping to make it alive. I might not survive the cab ride.”
Savannah chuckles in my ear and then I hear her murmuring to someone else in her office. “I have to go. Eli will meet you.”
“Eli? I thought I’d meet with Beau—”
“Eli’s not as scary as we’ve all led you to believe. I promise.” And then she’s gone. The cab swerves again, and I send up a prayer of thanks that I didn’t eat breakfast this morning as I use my hand to fan my face.
It’s darn hot in the Big Easy.
During all the years I went to college with Savannah and her twin brother, Declan, I never did make it down here to visit them, and I can’t wait to explore the French Quarter, eat beignets, have my tarot cards read, and soak it all in.
Of course, I’d rather soak it all in while not wearing so many clothes. Who knew it would be so hot in May? I shimmy out of my suit jacket, fold the sleeves over so they don’t wrinkle, and watch as above ground cemeteries, old buildings, and lots of people zoom by.
Eli is the one Boudreaux sibling I’ve never met. I’ve seen photos of the handsome brother, and heard many stories about his stoic, tough, playboy ways. Van says the stories are exaggerated. I guess I’ll find out for myself.
Well, not the playboy part. That’s just none of my business.
Finally, we come to an abrupt stop. There’s a red cable-car on one side and mountains of concrete on the other. I stumble out into the hot Monday afternoon, and sweat immediately beads on my forehead.
It’s not just hot. It’s sticky.
But I smile despite the discomfort, tip the reckless cabbie and roll my suitcase behind me into the blessedly cool building, where a woman sits behind a long, ornate desk, typing furiously on a computer while speaking in the phone.
“Mr. Boudreaux is unavailable at this time, but I’ll put you through to his assistant, one moment.” She quickly pushes a series of keys, then smiles up at me.
She’s very smiley.
“I’m Kate O’Shaughnessy.”
“Welcome, Ms. O’Shaughnessy,” she says, holding that smile in place. “Mr. Boudreaux is expecting you.” She types furiously and begins speaking into her phone again. “Hello, Miss Carter, Ms. O’Shaughnessy is here for Mr. Boudreaux. Yes ma’am.” She clicks off efficiently. “Please have a seat. Can I get you some water?”
“No, thank you.”
Miss Efficient simply nods and returns to her ringing phones. Before I have a chance to sit, a tall woman in black slacks and a red sleeveless blouse walks out of the elevator and straight to me.
“Ms. O’Shaughnessy?”