Going All Out (18 page)

Bree glanced back in the mirror again. Lucas would definitely have an image of her to haunt his dreams, along with memories of a steamy week she hoped he’d never forget.

She wouldn’t. Not ever.

“Honestly, that is hands down the most gorgeous dress you’ve ever designed,” Tally said.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks for dropping everything to help.”

“That’s what big sisters are for.”

And Bree was glad hers had come out to play again. She’d been missed. Their lives were changing so much…but when Bree thought about it, she knew Tally’s schedule wasn’t solely to blame. She had been hiding because of Christien and because of Tally’s preoccupation with the captain’s treasure and a ghost.

Because of Jude.

No more. She and Tally would both have to be open-minded as their relationship changed and grew. She wouldn’t give up her sister for anyone. Not her bad-news ex or even a doll like Christien.

Not even a ghost.

“Let me return the compliment.” Bree smiled. “You look stunning. Christien’s going to drool when he sees you.”

Tally gave the obligatory twirl so Bree could admire her handiwork—much more carefully sewn together. “I’m so glad you talked Josie out of that heinous ‘variations of pink’ theme she kept trying to run through the court,” Bree said.

“Me, too,” Tally replied. “I think she just had Valentine’s Day on the brain with the wedding.” She raked her gaze over Bree’s gown again. “How’d you get all the artistic talent?”

“Right. Spoken by the Blue Note’s main attraction.”

Before Tally could reply, the phone rang. Bree glanced at the display. “Damn, it’s work. I’ve got to pick up.”

Tally waved her off. “I’ll go tell the guys. We’re worth the wait.”

She disappeared out of the bedroom as Bree snatched the receiver off the cradle. “Hello.”

“It’s George, Bree.”

George McSwain had been the operating manager of Toujacques since shortly after Bree had moved from her debut as a cocktail waitress to VIP hostess. Although not all the staff would agree, she thought he was a good fit for the position. Tough but fair. The big boys obviously agreed.

“What’s up, George? Any problem with Renee covering my shift tonight?”

“Not at all, but listen, I got some news. I know you and Lana have been waiting for the meeting to find out who’s appointed head hostess, but Charlie called tonight and they’ve already decided. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Her heart sank. There was no missing his tone that screamed she wasn’t going to like his news. “Let’s hear it.”

“We’re giving Lana the position.”

Under normal circumstances, Bree would never have grilled him. If the big boys thought sidestepping Lana’s tantrums was more important than who would do a better job, then she didn’t want the position anyway. She would have accepted the verdict gracefully and professionally.

But Bree knew George, and he didn’t sound happy.

“All right, I’ll bite. What happened? I’m the most qualified for the position. You know that.”

“I know, but I couldn’t sell you to upper management.”

“Why?”

He exhaled heavily, reluctantly, and Bree braced herself, her instincts on fire. “You had trouble with the law, Bree.”

There was a beat of silence while more hail-size words hit her, then the blood rushed into her head so fast she felt dizzy. “My record is as clean as your office, George.”

“Of course it is or we’d have known about it before we hired you. But someone got wind of some past trouble and mentioned it to the owners, who know everyone in this town and started asking questions…. Well, they got answers.”

She wanted to ask who
someone
was but didn’t need to. There was only one person who had anything to gain by digging into Bree’s past. Only one person who was self-interested enough to tell the bosses what she’d found.

“There’s no problem with your job, Bree,” George hastened to assure her. “Trust me on that. You’re the best damn hostess we’ve got. But they felt, given you were under investigation for a gaming scam, that a move into
management
at this time
might not be best for all concerned. You know how we’re sidestepping the media with the gaming opponents right now. If they get wind of any past trouble, they’d blow things out of proportion and make all of us look bad. We don’t want to deal with it and didn’t think you would either. You know how it goes.”

Yes, she did.

She remembered an exchange with Lana just a few nights ago and wondered what handsome man she’d been referring to.

That question wasn’t a leap to answer.

Jude Robicheaux was a mistake that would haunt her forever.

“I appreciate you letting me know, George. I’d much rather hear it from you than walk in on it tomorrow.”

“Sorry, Bree. Just bad timing. Remember that.”

She assured him she would, then severed the connection, her hand replacing the receiver in slow motion, her whole body cold with the familiar feeling of shame that always seemed to accompany her past rearing up to smack her in the face.

She couldn’t blame the big bosses.

And she couldn’t even blame Lana.
If
Lana had tattled to management, she’d been fed the information by Jude. It was an old trick of his—scare off everyone in Bree’s life so she’d be forced to turn to him.

Once upon a time she’d let him do that. Only Tally and Mark had been left. Jude had wanted her to leave them, too. She hadn’t, but who was to say if he hadn’t had more time that he wouldn’t have eventually found some way to convince her? And just the thought of what her life might be like if she hadn’t managed the break was enough to make her cringe.

No, Bree had no one to blame for losing the head hostess job but herself.

But as she digested that simple difficult-to-swallow fact, she remembered something the captain had written.

Until you believe in yourself, my dear Breanne, it matters naught who else does.

Lifting her gaze in the mirror, she scanned her image, found to her surprise that she didn’t see a vulnerable young woman staring back but a woman who’d made mistakes and had grown from them. Was even more surprised to find that growing didn’t seem like such a bad thing, even if it had cost her a promotion.

She should have been upset, but somehow losing the position to Lana didn’t feel as important as it might have. The captain’s words kept replaying in her head.

Until you believe in yourself…

For the first time since she’d read his message, she thought she really understood what he’d meant.

So she’d lost the promotion. Toujacques was just one part of her life. Or should be. Was a job more important than the special moments she’d shared with Tally getting her costume ready? Or enjoying all her hard work with the krewe by parading on the float and dancing at the coronation ball? And if she wanted to see Lucas again, why couldn’t she ask him out?

There wasn’t any reason she couldn’t take on a few extra projects for Toni to earn enough for a flight to California. She could pop by his office and surprise him. Or wherever he happened to be working that day.

Or night.

Maybe she’d even catch him fresh from the shower in a towel and rescue him from a lonely night.

Staring into the mirror, Bree inclined her head at the
reflection that stared back. She might have to live with the effects of past decisions, but as soon as she saw Lucas off tomorrow, she was going to the police. At least this part of the past she could put to rest once and for all.

K
REWE DU CHAUD’S PARADE
kicked off the final weekend before Fat Tuesday and always drew a crowd. Lucas knew from past experience that Captain Gabriel Dampier was big business at Mardi Gras, so when he led Bree from the uptown restaurant where they’d enjoyed a pre-parade breakfast with the other krewe members, he wasn’t surprised to find the streets jammed.

Costumed revelers swarmed in every direction at the parade’s starting point on the corner of Tchoupitoulas Street and Napoleon Avenue. The crowd surged as Krewe du Chaud’s court began emerging from the restaurant, and a deafening cheer went up, drowning out the marching band. Lucas held on tight to his beautiful date as they made their way through the crowds to their assigned float.

Gator Bait.

The gator was still an impressive old guy, with his sixty feet of bright green scales, clawed feet and a snapping mouth that always pleased the crowds.

Bree had wrangled a position on the old float from Josie to surprise him, and he was surprised, both by her thoughtfulness and by his excitement as they headed toward the float.

He’d ridden in the parades since birth. Literally. Most children’s lives were marked with milestone school photos and achievements. Lucas’s had been commemorated by
parade photos and newspaper clippings of Mardi Gras. A lifetime of evidence currently resided in Josie’s attic, starting with photos of him as an infant propped in a carrier behind his parents on one of the original floats.

But in all those years of tossing throws to the revelers along the same parade route, he’d never climbed onto a float with such a beautiful woman by his side.

Bree was such a gut-wrenching vision in her costume that he was almost sorry he hadn’t let her get dressed at Félicie Allée.
Almost.
Even though seeing her in this fantasy of yellow fabric and sparkly trim took his breath away, he could still envision all the naked curves below the beautiful dress.

Unable to resist touching her, Lucas slipped his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the steps. With a laugh reflected in the depths of her dark eyes, she hoisted her skirts and climbed up.

“I haven’t ridden in this old guy since I was fifteen.” He followed behind her. “That was the year Max squeezed inside Gator Bait’s mouth through the maintenance shaft to wave at the crowds. Of course, I blocked the hatch with the coolers, so he had to ride the whole parade route with those big teeth snapping on his head.”

“Roguish.” Bree shot him a horrified glance.

“Good times.”

The float captain, a man named Randy Schneider, who was actually a court resident from Number Thirteen, welcomed them on board and directed them to their positions and supply of throws. They were stationed in Gator Bait’s middle, a prime spot, and Lucas led Bree to their stock and started passing along strands of colorful beads in a variety of styles.

“These are the special throws. Take some of these, too.”

“Wait, wait, Lucas.” She laughed. “I can’t hold any more.”

He glanced up to find her cradling an armful of beads that were slithering and slipping through her fingers. “First time as a masker?”

She arched that dark eyebrow and didn’t bother to answer.

Reaching out, he gathered some of the strands, untangled them and slid them over her hand and up her arm. “Like this.”

He strung beads, then continued up her other arm with the special throws. “We’ll keep the box of doubloons with us. But you don’t want to be bending up and down all day. Trust me.”

“Glad you’re old hat at this.” She winked.

Before his thoughts caught up with his actions, he had her in his arms and was kissing the laughter from her lips.

A cheer went up along with some pretty lewd comments that had them both laughing by the time they sprang apart again. Just the sight of her heightened his excitement. She looked breathless and eager as the float started to move.

The crowds roared. The band played. And even though he’d come back home for Mardi Gras more often than not these past years, Lucas couldn’t remember looking forward to a celebration this much.

“Do I just throw them?” she asked.

“Make the crowd work. Especially for the good ones. Like this.” Leaning over Gator Bait’s side, he dangled a handful of beads at the revelers, and a cry went up.

“Throw me something, mister!”

“Throw me something, lady!”

Lucas spotted some frat kids whooping wildly and
threw some beads. He tossed up one of his good throws—fat golden beads with Tally’s treasure-chest pendant—to a boy on top of a ladder.

Bree turned her charm onto the crowd, taunting the revelers with her throws, laughing and waving, and he found himself yelling with her, enjoying the freshness of this celebration through her enthusiasm.

“Tally used to drag Mark and me to this parade to see the captain every year.” She reached into the box at their feet for some doubloons. “It’s a lot more fun on this side.”

The parade rolled down historic St. Charles Avenue, then to Gallier Hall for a toast before heading into the French Quarter, stopping twice along the route to allow krewe members to get off the floats and interact with the crowds. They answered questions about the float and swapped throws for dances.

Lucas and Bree took a few obligatory turns in the street, then returned to the float breathless less than ten minutes later.

“This is hard work.” She fanned herself with a hand and tossed a handful of doubloons into the crowd. “Always looked like a piece of cake from down there.”

Lucas handed her a bottled water from a cooler. “We’re only a third of the way there. Not ready to stop yet, are you?”

Bree tossed her head back, sending moist tendrils of hair wisping around her face and neck, and smiled at him with a dare. “Not on your life.”

Cracking the lid, she brought the bottle up to his in a rousing toast. “To the captain.”

“To us,” he replied, taking a welcome swig.

Her dark eyes sparkled invitingly.

The parade eventually wound around to Court du
Chaud, where the floats made a second stop to honor the man behind the krewe. The crowds had grown dense. Revelers had ladders set up all along the street behind his house, and those without ladders climbed onto the walls.

Lucas knew from experience about the mess they’d find in the yard tonight—water bottles, beer cans and debris littering the bushes—but the mess always proved worth the excitement.

Revelers waved and shouted greetings of respect to the captain rumored to be haunting the court, and the krewe members launched into the captain’s anthem. The floats blared the theme song from
Downtown Pirates.

Lucas sang while trying to pick out Bree’s alto in the din, a lovely voice that again belied her claims of being the untalented one in her family. And as they climbed down from Gator Bait yet again, he noticed the tree she’d scaled into his yard on the fateful night, a night that had started a sequence of events that was changing his life.

A woman dressed in a costume caught him, and he allowed himself to be led into a dance, managing to keep Bree close as she danced with an old man. They’d only taken a few turns when he gifted his partner with a treasure-chest necklace and accepted another woman’s offer, working his way back to Bree, catching sight of her changing partners, too.

Then some revelers crowded between them, and Lucas maneuvered his new partner around to get back to Bree. He hadn’t managed the task before something exploded against his head so hard that he staggered.

“What the hell—”

His partner broke from his arms and mouthed a silent
Oh.

Whatever had hit him had exploded in white dust,
covering him in the stuff, and he glanced down to find the broken torso of the cupid statue he’d made for his mother in the third grade sitting on the pavement, now limbless and half-crushed as it took another hit under some reveler’s boot.

Lucas blinked in amazement, glancing in the direction the thing had come from…and saw Bree.

Her expression stopped him cold.

It took only an instant to register how she stood rigid in her partner’s arms, everything about her on red alert. Lucas recognized the long-haired man holding her too close.

Robicheaux.

Breaking through the crowd, he moved in and said, “Hands off the lady.”

Robicheaux lifted a clear gaze to Lucas’s, a gaze that flashed amused defiance. “She’s mine right now.”

The amusement nailed Lucas someplace deep, someplace he’d had no idea he even possessed. But the feeling of icy fury didn’t let him think, just react.

Grabbing Robicheaux’s ponytail, Lucas yanked the man’s head back. Bree broke away with a gasp.

“Lucas, don’t.”

He heard relief in her voice, anger and fear. Whether for him or the man who’d held her, Lucas didn’t know, he only knew he controlled the moment and that wouldn’t change.

To avoid the possibility of retaliation, he caught Robicheaux’s hand, twisted it back and leaned close.

“I know everything about you,” he snarled in Robicheaux’s ear. “From Harvey Brondell’s name and your seventeen Internet collaborations to your last five addresses under three aliases.”

Lucas lifted Jude’s arm higher until he grunted in pain. “I see you around Bree again and I’ll send that information straight to an associate deputy of the FBI. If you were smart enough to do your homework about me, you’ll know I wrote NCID. There’ll be an APB out on you in every hick town from Boothbay Harbor to Silicon Valley.”

Jude didn’t get a chance to reply. Lucas gave him one solid heave and sent him stumbling into the crowd. Then he caught Bree’s arm and led her away in case the idiot had a gun and decided to use it.

“How did you—”

“Later. Come on.”

Keeping her in front of him, Lucas led them around the back of Gator Bait, cutting in front of the flambeau bearers who marched behind the float. He wanted her off the street and out of sight before the parade started moving again.

She moved along quickly by his side, her expression so tense he was sorry he hadn’t damaged Robicheaux.

He only knew the result of what had been between Bree and the man, police reports that told him nothing about why she’d been with Robicheaux, whether he’d ever hurt her.

But Lucas had seen the look on her face, heard the sound in her voice…and he knew anger that was unlike anything he’d ever known before, a fury that this bold, beautiful woman had ever had to deal with such a lowlife.

No
woman ever should.

Breathing to dispel the sensation, he knew he needed his calm about him. Bree had closed off completely, her distance firmly in place. The only hint of the encounter was a pallor that made her golden skin seem ashen and her eyes haunted.

The crowds were so thick that it took them nearly a full
ten minutes to circle around until they could access the court alley, and each second that ticked by, Lucas expected Robicheaux to emerge, tried to figure out what to say to Bree. If she gave him a chance to say anything.

But she didn’t resist when he led her to his door without further incident. She didn’t question why he’d brought her here rather than her place. Maybe she’d already guessed he didn’t want her easily accessible until he had a lock on how her ex-bum might react to their confrontation.

She didn’t say anything at all.

There was a warrant out for Robicheaux, and Lucas wondered if Bree knew. Every self-righteous blood cell he possessed screamed to pick up the phone and call the police, but Josie’s warning continued to loop in his head.

I’m telling you not to bully her. Sounds to me like she’s had enough of that already.

“Come on.” He led her into the living room. “Let’s talk.”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze and went to stand at the window. The silence felt heavy. The intimacy that had always been such a natural part of being with her vanished entirely, leaving Lucas to wonder if he’d assumed too much already.

L
UCAS KNEW
.

Bree didn’t know how he’d found out about Jude, didn’t know if she even wanted to know.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about anything right now. But this wasn’t how she’d envisioned their denouement or how she’d feel wearing her beautiful new gown.

She should be on a float right now, in a parade with Tally and Christien and their friends.

Not dealing with the past.

“Bree?” Lucas sounded cautious.

She didn’t know what to say. She only knew that she couldn’t turn around, didn’t want to see him looking so dashing in his pirate garb. So she stared into the court, the colors vibrant in the bright winter sun while she stood inside.

Then suddenly he was behind her, slipping his arms around her and pulling her against him. His body surrounded her as it always did, arousing, possessive,
right.
He didn’t say anything, just rested his chin on the top of her head and held her close.

They stood there staring into the courtyard, neither speaking. Bree tried to find anger. He’d obviously been prying into places she hadn’t wanted to share with him or anyone. She didn’t like men who only cared about their wants. But even though she’d stereotyped Lucas as that sort of man at first, he’d proven himself so much more.

But she couldn’t find anger with his arms around her, not when the tender way he held her assured her how much he cared.

“I overstepped my boundaries,” he said quietly. “I knew it when I made the decision to start digging around about you.”

“But why?”

“John and I saw a car in the parking lot at the den. I knew someone had been inside.”

“I told you I had everything under control.”

His arms tightened around her, a caring embrace. “There were marks on your face.”

Bree squeezed her eyes tightly shut, remembering when Jude had grabbed her, not enough to hurt but enough to get her attention, to intimidate her.

She’d been so worried about hiding her past and
proving she could handle things on her own that she’d ignored what should have mattered most.

“I should have waited until you told me what was going on.” His voice was a throbbing ache. “But, Bree, I’m in love with you. I know it sounds crazy because we’ve only just met, but I know you’re the one. I never believed it happened this way.”