Close To The Edge. Kylie Brant

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СКАЧАТЬ reason for you to hang around. You’re always whining about me working you too hard. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      She looked down sightlessly at the file folders arranged in neat piles on her desk. What she needed right now was to get lost in her work. There were still numerous details about the Garvey case to work out. It would probably work best if she and Lucky divided up the four potential heirs and then consulted daily on their findings. Although perhaps it would be smarter to…

      With two arms braced on her desk, Lucky leaned toward her. She hadn’t even heard his approach. The man moved like a cat. “What happened?”

      Striving to recapture the insouciance she’d managed with Brummond, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “You mean with Peter? Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”

      But unlike the other man, the cool tone didn’t seem to fool Lucky. His dark gaze intent, he said softly, “Don’t lie to me, Jacey. You don’t want to tell me, then say that. But no lies. I think we owe each other better, n’est ce pas?”

      Feeling a bit ashamed, she gave up the pretense of interest in the files and met his gaze. “Peter is getting married. Soon. As a matter of fact, there’s going to be an engagement party for him and his fiancée this weekend.”

      His face was watchful. “He came here to tell you that?”

      The knots were back in her shoulders. She leaned back in her chair, suddenly weary. “I would have found out for myself if I had opened the invitation that came to my house. As it turns out, I learned from my mother last night.” She made a face. “She’s not happy that I let him slip through my fingers.”

      “So…what was he doin’ here?”

      She gave a humorless smile. “Well, that depends on your interpretation, I imagine. Since I’m not in a particularly charitable mood, I’d say he was dispatched by his fiancée to make sure my appearance didn’t mar her special night.”

      Pushing away from the desk, he rounded the corner and propped his hips against the side. Arms folded, he inquired, “And you told him…what?”

      “That I wasn’t willing to give the gossips more fuel. Damn.” Lucky’s eyes widened a fraction as the unfamiliar curse passed her lips. “I’d rather face a ten-inch needle than put myself through facing all those people at his party.” Every one of them would be watching, judging her every expression and word. Just the thought had dread snaking through her belly.

      “So don’t go.”

      “I don’t have a choice.” Hearing the words, she corrected them. “I mean, I have choices, but I don’t like either of them. When it comes down to it, I refuse to allow myself to be the target of speculation. I’ll go, hold my head up and put on the show of my life. And I’ll detest every minute of it.” She met his gaze. “I guess that means I have more of my mother in me than I thought.”

      “It means you have pride. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

      As awful as the beer had tasted, Jacey wished she had another. There was a sort of pleasant haze drifting over her, blunting the edges of her emotions. She’d never been much of a drinker. “What would you do if it were you?”

      “I’d do exactly what you plan to. People will talk regardless. At least this way you can direct what they’re going to say.”

      She considered that, before nodding. “Exactly. I’m not going to take my mother’s advice, though. She gave me a carefully prepared list of eligible bachelors from which to choose an escort. I had the impression they also met her requirements for a son-in-law.”

      His face went impassive. “For once, Charlotte and I agree on something. If people think you’re involved with someone else you remove the drama from the scene. You don’t need her list, though. I’ll take you myself.”

      A wave of warmth flooded her at the mere thought. Showing up with Lucky in tow wouldn’t stem talk about her, it would only stoke it. But there’d be no pitying looks directed her way with him by her side. Just because she was immune to his brand of charm herself, didn’t mean she was unaware of his effect on most other females. He’d be fortunate to escape the party without landing several propositions from the women, and more than a few hostile exchanges from the men.

      A smile played across her lips. It would be almost worth suffering her mother’s wrath just to watch the impact he’d make accompanying her. With a reluctant shake of her head, though, she dismissed the idea. “You’d hate that sort of thing.”

      “So you will owe me, c’est tout.” The wicked glint in his eye gave lie to his nonchalant shrug. “What’s a favor among friends?”

      “I’d hate to guess what you’d demand in return. No, I’ll think of something.” Something, she hoped, that would leave her with a measure of dignity intact. And if it also included a way to maim Peter, she’d consider that a bonus. The situation was uncomfortable, but hardly rose to the level of catastrophic, no matter what her mother feared.

      All she had to do between now and Saturday was to come up with a way to convince her friends and acquaintances that she was unaffected by the whole turn of events.

      Piece of cake.

      Chapter 4

      Lucky walked down Bourbon Street, taking in the familiar sights. T-Bone was on his regular corner, clad in silver clothes with silver paint covering his face, neck and hands. The pose he struck was so still he could have passed for a discarded store mannequin. He was one of many street performers who dotted the corners, depending on the largesse of tourists for their living. By the looks of the small crowd gathering, T-Bone was having a good night.

      Jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Lucky strolled up and stared at the unmoving man. T-Bone did an excellent job of ignoring his presence.

      “How does he stand so still?” one woman wondered aloud. “He hardly seems to be breathing.”

      “Oh, that’s easy, ma’am.” Lucky smiled wickedly. “See, T-Bone here is deaf and dumb. Mostly just dumb.” He thought, he was almost certain, he saw the man’s eyes flicker. Warming up to his story, he donned a thick good-ol’-boy accent and told the crowd, “How I know that is, we’re cousins, him and me. You can’t see the family resemblance ’cuz of the silver paint and all. Not that we look all that much alike because, well,” he looked around at the rapt people, and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “T-Bone here is the ugly one in the family. Our granny used to have to tie a pork chop around his neck just to get the dogs to play with him.” There was a snicker, and T-Bone’s lips compressed a fraction. “Plus he’s lazy as a tarred hog, so standin’ around on street corners is about all that boy is up for.”

      “Damn you, Boucher, keep on trash-talking me and I’ll stomp a mudhole in you.” T-Bone dropped his pose and stepped down from the upside-down bucket he was perched on. The tourists, giving him a wide berth now, hurried away. The man looked after them mournfully. “Now why’d you want and go and do that? Some people appreciate art.”

      “So maybe they’re headin’ for a museum. Hey, have you seen Remy today?”

      T-Bone gave him a crafty look. “What’s the information worth to you?”

      “I’ll let you keep those bills in that box there.” СКАЧАТЬ