He skirted around me before I could snatch him or tell him otherwise. We were far from being over with our conversation.
My sister eyed me carefully, sighing dramatically while she placed the shopping bags on the couch.
“How much did you overhear?” I asked, my tone entirely different.
“Enough to know you’re losing control. Again. And you better not have her chained in some room somewhere or I’ll help her escape.”
As soon as my sweet sister made the comment, my twisted mind envisioned chaining Catherine to the bed. “No, you will not.”
“Try me.”
“Since when have you ever seen me lose control?” I moved closer. She always had a calming effect on me.
She pressed her hand against my chest, batting her long eyelashes like she used to do as a teenager when asking for a favor. “Try the last boyfriend I had. You know, the one you roughed up and tossed from the house after warning him if he touched me you would… and I quote ‘rip his arms off and feed them to the gators’?”
“John wasn’t a good choice. That’s all. I wasn’t going to… kill him.” Just break his arm to make certain he got my point.
Her wild gestures always made me laugh. “John was three boyfriends ago. Three.”
I wrapped my fingers around her hand, pulling it to my mouth. “Who’s counting.”
“I am. Now, if you truly have a guest then you need to put a shirt on. It is my understanding the person you have on a short leash locked in a room upstairs is the prosecutor intent on putting you away for a crime you didn’t commit.”
“At least you’re on my side.”
Emmeline rolled her eyes. “I’m on the side of truth. She’s very beautiful. Just your type.”
“I don’t have a type and how would you know the identity of my guest?”
“You make it sound like I was born yesterday, my overbearing brother.” She slipped her hand into her back pocket, pulling her other from mine and allowing her fingers to fly across the screen of her phone. As soon as she held it out for me to see, I grimaced. “You’re quite famous, my dear brother. I must admit, you look adorable carrying her across the lawn. Look, you’re being called the most handsome convict in New Orleans.”
Before I could snatch the phone from her, she jerked it away.
“It does not say that.”
“You have some interesting neighbors. Just thought I’d warn you. Tell Ms. Devereaux if any of the sizes are wrong, to just let me know.”
“Where are you running off to?”
“A date,” she answered. “And don’t try and follow me. Big brother.” She kissed my cheek and waltzed from the room.
Huffing, I yanked my phone into my hand as I walked toward the window, staring out into the darkness. When the call wentstraight to Jacques’ voicemail, I bristled. He’d yet to make an inquiry about my incarceration. Now he wasn’t taking my call.
“Jacques. You’re going to call me as soon as you get this and we will discuss the meeting my father had. I don’t give a shit about some attorney/client privilege, you will talk.” He was a man of significant power himself and ordinarily crossing him wouldn’t be in my best interest. But I was the Don now. He would abide by my commands.
Two figures formed a reflection in the glass, Jarvis being one of them. Our accountant the other.
“What?” I turned around, weary of the bullshit.
Both men looked at each other.
“I am in no mood for insolence or disrespect. What in the fuck is going on?”
“There’s an issue you need to deal with, Mr. Prince.” William Granger had been the CFO of the family’s corporation for years. He’d started when my grandfather had still been in charge, a young man with high ambitions and an accounting degree. He was a wizard with numbers and investments.
He could also spot a thief a mile away and knew how to keep his mouth shut. There couldn’t be a better employee.
But he wasn’t an alarmist or the kind to bring me anything that didn’t need attention. While I’d planned on having a more formal conversation with my lovely guest, encouraging her to share aspects of her life with me, it would need to wait.
