“You’re bloody threatening me!”
“No. I’m telling you how it’s going to be.”
“I should just kill myself.” She stomps her foot like a child and I can’t help but laugh. “This is not funny!”
“You’re right. It’s ridiculous. Goodbye, Amy.” I turn away from her and ignore her completely until she finally stomps away and slams the door behind her.
Seconds later, the door opens again and I spin, ready to threaten to call the cops, but it’s Todd standing there instead of Amy.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“No.” I shake my head and rub my hand over my mouth. Todd nods and looks toward the door.
“She’s such a bitch, Simon. Don’t let her into your head.”
“I don’t give two shits about Amy,” I reply. “She no longer lives in my head. But I fucked up, mate.”
“Yeah, I’ve been telling you that for weeks.”
I’m pacing the room in agitation. God, how do I fix this?
“So, go after her, Simon. Get on a bloody plane.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head and push my fingers through my hair. “I’m a jealous moron with her, Todd. I’m a complete jerk and I want to tear off every man’s head who even looks in her direction. I overreact to even an innocent interaction, and I promised her that I would talk to her before jumping to conclusions, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I’ve had a lot of time to go over everything in my head, and I handled it so badly.”
“Simon, there’s a difference between being jealous and being territorial,” Todd says calmly. “It’s okay to stake a claim on the woman you love.”
“I didn’t say love.”
“Jesus, you’re stubborn,” he mutters. “Come on, mate. I’ve never seen you like this before. You’ve been in love with her since you met her. And that’s why you get so jealous, because she’s amazing and anyone would love to be with her. But she loves you too, you know. No way a woman lets a guy stay with her for weeks if she’s in like with him.”
“I can’t go after her,” I repeat and hold my hand up when Todd begins to disagree. “I need to figure out a few things first. I need to get my head on straight because I can’t go back into it with her in the same space. She needs more. She deserves more, and damn it, so do I.”
“Then get your head on straight and go get your girl. But don’t wait too long. You’ve already buggered it all up. If you wait too long, she’ll tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“She might do that anyway.”
“But you won’t know unless you try,” he says. “And you have to try, Simon. You deserve this too. It’s long overdue.”
Chapter Twenty
~Charly~
It’s been a month since I last saw Simon, and the mad is still hanging on like a bad rash. But I prefer it that way because when I’m not angry, I’m sad, and I’m much more comfortable with being pissed off.
I refuse to miss him.
I refuse to anything him.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t, and that makes me mad too.
After closing up my shop late one evening, I walk the few blocks over to Beau’s condo and let myself in like I’ve been doing for the past few weeks. I don’t like being home alone, especially at night. That’s when I miss him the most.
I must be desperate if I’m willing to stay on my brother’s couch in a haunted apartment rather than sleep in my perfectly comfortable bed.
“You’re later tonight,” Beau says casually as I walk through the door, winded from the steps. I really need to start running again. I’m out of shape.
“I had a lot to do,” I reply, not meeting his gaze. All of my siblings have taken turns lecturing me about working too hard, but I don’t care. I need to focus my energy on something constructive.
“How are you?” he asks, just as he does every night. Beau has had the patience of Job over the past few weeks. He hasn’t said a word about me staying here, he’s simply made sure I had a pillow and blanket. He offered me his bed, but I didn’t have the heart to throw him out of it.
Not when I have a perfectly good one at home. I’m just too much of a weenie to go there.
“I’m fine.”
“You may be okay,” he counters, watching me with sober hazel eyes, “but you’re not fine.”
I stare back at him and finally sigh, my shoulders sagging, and sink onto the couch. “I’m not fine.”
“What do you need?” he asks. Leave it to my brothers to always want to fix everything.
“I don’t think there’s anything I need except time,” I reply. “There’s nothing else to do.”
“Have you heard from him at all?”
I shake my head. “No. And I won’t. Not only did he make his decision, but I made it pretty clear that I didn’t want to see him again.”
“Are you sure about that?”
My head whips up so I can stare at him in surprise. “Of course I’m sure about that, Beau. He just left. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m not saying you did.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just making sure that with a little time passed you haven’t changed your mind on wanting to see him again.”
“No. And I won’t.” I twist my hair on top of my head and lean back on the couch. “I do have something to run by you, though.”
“Oh?” He stands to pour us each a finger of brandy, passes me one, and sits in his chair again. “Shoot.”
“Head Over Heels is doing amazing. In fact, I have customers who call me after they’ve gone home from visiting New Orleans on vacation and ask me to send them photos of my current stock.”
“Are you thinking about an internet store?” He asks, rubbing his fingertip over his lip.
“No, I was thinking of expanding,” I reply, suddenly excited all over again at the thought. “I want to open a second store in Miami.”
“Why Miami?” he asks.
“It’s a hip, fun vacation destination, and I think my shoes would go over well in that demographic.”
“True.” He nods.
“I want to buy my building from Boudreaux Enterprises as well.”
That has his attention. He cocks a brow, then frowns. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Because I can. I’ve built this business on my own, and I want to keep doing that. I can buy the building, and have enough money left to lease a shop in Miami and get it going.”
“Hold on.” Beau leans forward now and rubs his hands together. “Charly, are you under the impression that using your trust fund, or any of the moneys available to you through the family company, makes you weak in some way?”
“I want to do it on my own,” I repeat.
“You are doing it on your own, with money that belongs to you, just as much as the money that Eli, Van, me, hell, all of use is ours. Dad left it to all of us and he was specific that we split it evenly.”
“But I don’t work for it—”
“Bullshit,” he replies. “You work your ass off, more hours than any of us. Your office may not be in the same building, but you’re working, Charly. If you want the building to be in your name, we’ll have the title changed, but for all intents and purposes, it’s yours, 100%.”
I shake my head, but he interrupts before I can speak.
“There are billions of dollars at your disposal and you don’t use it. Do you know how frustrating that is? I know that this family isn’t frivolous or flashy—we weren’t raised that way—but it’s there for you. And if you want to expand your business, use it and do it. Open a dozen stores if you want to. Dad was a businessman, Char. Do you know how fucking proud of you he’d be?”
Tears prick my eyes as I realize that he’s right. Dad would want this. I’ve been too stubborn trying to do everything on my own to realize it.
“Will you go with me to speak to Eli and Van about it tomorrow?” I ask.
“You don’t need our permission.”
“That’s not it. I want all of yo
ur advice. I want to talk it out with other businesspeople that I respect and trust.”
“In that case, yes. I think it’s an amazing idea. You’re going to kick shoe ass.”
I grin. “I am. I can’t wait.”
Just then there’s a loud crash that sounds like it’s coming from downstairs.
“That damn woman,” Beau mutters. “I don’t care about the noise during the day, but doesn’t she ever sleep?”
“It’s not Mallory,” I reply, chills running down my spine. “It’s a ghost.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” He says and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now you sound like her.”
“Like who?”
“The woman downstairs.”
“Her name is Mallory,” I reply. “And she seems to know about this stuff.”
“She sounds like a whackjob,” he says with a sigh. “And I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“You live in New Orleans,” I point out. “How do you not believe in ghosts?”
“It’s for books and movies,” he replies. “I wish my house was finished being built.”
Beau used to live on the plantation property before Gabby and Rhys got married. Now that Rhys is there to look after things, Beau has moved into town, and has a beautiful home being built in an exclusive neighborhood.
We may not be a frivolous family, but Beau appreciates the finer things in life.
“When will it be finished?” I ask.
“It’s another year away. We’re waiting for supplies from Italy.”
I cock a brow, but I don’t say anything.
“What? Some of us aren’t afraid to use our trust funds, darlin’. You can’t take it with you when you go, we can all attest to that.”
He has a valid point.
“I honestly haven’t needed it, Beau. Some of it is pride, but I’ve managed just fine on my own. My business is thriving. But you’re right, it makes sense to use what’s available to me for the expansion.”
“Say it again,” he says with a smile.
“Which part?”
“The you’re right part.”
I stick my tongue out at him, then jump when the lights flicker.
“She’s here,” I whisper.
“Who?”
“Miss Louisa.”
“Who the hell is that?”
“The ghost,” I whisper loudly. Beau just shakes his head and laughs.
“It’s an old building, Charly. The electrical probably needs to be replaced.”
“You should talk to Mallory. She’d convince you.”
“As long as she stays out of my way and pays her rent on time, I don’t need to see Mallory.”
I shrug. “Suit yourself.”
“I always do.”
***
I’ve been talking to Van, Eli, and Beau for an hour about the expansion. Eli hasn’t said one word, and I can’t read his face.
Frankly, it’s starting to piss me off.
“Eli, it’s a great opportunity. If I can do so great with this store in my small shop in the Quarter, just think what I can do in an even busier storefront. Eventually, I might expand to New York, LA, Seattle, and then I’d have a store in every corner of the country.” He nods, but doesn’t say much. “Are you having issues with me using the family money?”
His head jerks up and he stares at me like I just asked him if I could get naked.
“No. Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re not saying anything.”
“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Savannah says with an excited smile. “You’ve clearly thought this through and done your homework, Charly.”
“Beau and I were up late last night talking about it,” I reply.
“I was surprised when she suggested it, but the more she talked about it, the more it makes sense.” He looks at Eli. “Whatever she decides to do with her money isn’t our concern.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the money,” Eli replies and shoves his hand through his hair. “You’re right. You should do it.”
“But?”
“But it’ll take you away,” he replies and looks at me with soft whiskey eyes. Eli and I have always been close. “You’ll be gone, starting these new stores, and we won’t see you often.”
“God, you sound like a girl,” Beau says, disgusted.
“Fuck you,” Eli replies, still holding my gaze. “But you should do this. I’ll help you in any way I can.”
I grin and clap my hands. “I’m doing this!”
“You’re so doing this,” Van says just as Eli’s phone beeps with an incoming call from his assistant.
“Mr. Boudreaux, your one o’clock is here.”
“Thank you.”
“I should go anyway.” I stand and settle my handbag on my shoulder. “Thanks, guys. Your support means the world to me.”
“Let’s go to lunch,” Van says. “We can talk about making a trip to Miami soon. I’d love to come with you to scout out possible locations.”
“Oh, I would love that! Let’s do it.”
We wave goodbye to our brothers and walk out of Eli’s office, and I’m suddenly face to face with Simon Danbury.
At first I think my eyes are playing tricks on me, but Van says, “Simon.” She nods her head and continues to walk, but I pause. Simon is in New Orleans.
At my brother’s office.
His amazing blue eyes blaze as his gaze rakes over me, as if he’s been starving for me, and when they meet mine again, I simply smirk and follow Van to the elevator where she’s holding it for me.
***
“Simon’s in town,” I mutter for the fiftieth time as we walk down to The Odyssey. “I don’t need food. I need to drink my lunch.”
“Agreed,” Van says as she holds the door for me and follows me into the dark bar. Callie and Adam are standing at the end of the bar, looking at an iPad.
“Hi, Callie,” I say with a wave. “I have a thousand dollars and I need to get drunk.”
Callie’s lips purse as she watches us belly up to the bar.
“Well, your money’s no good here, but I can get you good and drunk.”
“Fantastic.”
She pours us all, including herself, a shot of tequila. We clink glasses and swig them back.
“Another,” I say.
“So what are we celebrating?” Callie asks as she pours more liquor.
“Simon’s in town,” Van says.
“Are we happy about that?” Callie asks before chugging back another shot.
“Fuck no,” I reply, wrinkling my nose. “I don’t know why he’s here. He’s at Eli’s office.”
Callie laughs long and hard. “Well, he’s in for a fun afternoon because Declan was just headed that way for their Krav Maga session.”
“Oh God, they’re going to kill Simon,” I say. “I wanna watch.”
“Easy, tiger,” Van says.
“What? Maybe they’ll let me help.”
“They’re not going to kill him,” Callie says, but her voice isn’t completely certain.
“Some brothers they are,” I mutter. The alcohol is already clouding my head, and I don’t feel the knot of despair in my stomach anymore. Which is good because the knot of despair sucks.
“Oh! Declan just texted me and asked if you’re with me,” Callie says, staring at her phone. “What should I tell him?”
“Here.” I motion for her to hand me the phone and then I dial Declan’s number with it. “Don’t you dare tell Simon where I am.”
“I don’t know where you are,” he replies. I can hear the others in the background.
“I’m obviously with your wife, Einstein, I’m on her phone.” I roll my eyes and shake my head.
“Look, Simon wants to see you.”
“No.”
“He has some things to say.”
“He should have said them a month ago,” I reply and close one eye while I stare in the bottom of my empty shot glass. “I don’t want to hear his smarm
y, sexy, dumb British voice.”
“Are you drunk?” Declan asks and then laughs. “That was fast.”
“I didn’t eat today. I mean it, Declan Boudreaux, don’t you tell him where I am. Or I’ll beat you up.”
“Right.”
“Tell him I won’t have sex with him,” Callie says, but then shakes her head and says, “No. Scratch that. Sex is too good.”
“Ew.” I wrinkle my nose at her. “Declan, I don’t want to know about your sex life.”
“I wasn’t telling you about my sex life. Is Callie drinking too?”
“My sisters are loyal! Of course they’re drinking with me. Callie is my sister by marriage,” I inform him, as if he didn’t know.
“I was there,” he reminds me. “Say goodbye, Charly.”
“Goodbye Charly.” I hand the phone back to Callie. “He won’t tell.”
“He’s so going to tell,” Van says. “Maybe he realizes how badly he screwed up.”
“Declan screwed up?” I ask in surprise.
“No, Simon,” Callie says with a laugh. “No more tequila for you.”
“I don’t want to see him,” I say and lay my head on my crossed arms on the bar. “I was just starting to not hurt all the time. Why is he here?”
Callie and Van talk, sharing theories and thoughts, and I just listen, enjoying this hazy place between fall-down drunk and sober. It’s a good place to be when you don’t want to feel.
“Uh oh,” Callie says, catching my attention. I look up at her and she nods toward the doorway. I turn on my stool and there they are: Eli, Declan, Beau, and Simon.
“Who gave him the black eye?” I ask, holding Simon’s gaze.
“We’re not sure,” Declan says.
“I want to give them a high five because I also want to give him a black eye.” I turn back to the bar and stare at Callie. “I need another drink.”
“You’ll pass out,” Van hisses in my ear.
“I should be so lucky.” I glare at Callie, but she just shakes her head and suddenly Simon is standing next to me.
“Stop smelling good,” I snap at him. Just look at him, standing there smelling all good and stuff like he owns the place.
“Charlotte, I’d like to speak to you,” he says and his voice is like a balm to my wounded soul.