“Maisyeah,” he said drily. Ronan had glutted himself with women in the first few years after he’d been released from jail. Eventually, the excess had grown tiring. Their brother had yet to reach that point.
“Ronan.” She turned toward him. “Jules would drop any and everything to come to your aid. If you don’t know that, you’re not as smart as I’ve always believed you to be.”
His brows lifted at her rebuke.Merde. Evidently, hewaspart of the reason she was in a bad mood.
“For him to postpone his flight for a woman means she’s different,” she argued. “Special.”
He considered that possibility as they exited the elevator. “Wouldn’t be a bad thing for him to settle down. Depending on the woman.”
God help them if Jules fell for someone who shared his volatility. Far better for him to find a match who tempered his brashness.
“Agreed. We should learn more.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he drawled. “If he wants us to know about his love life, he’ll tell us himself.”
“This is Jules we’re talking about,” she said with wry amusement as he waved goodbye to the evening security guard and held the front door open for her to exit to 48thStreet.
“Would you like it if he and I meddled in your private life?” Briefly swiping away from the news app that he searched constantly, Ronan double-checked the make, model, and license plate of the rideshare he’d ordered.
“I’m smarter than both of you, so no.”
His mouth curved. “Point taken.”
“I’m worried because he’s lying to me, and that’s something we’ve always said we would never do. If we can’t be honest among the three of us, we have nothing.”
“Lying about what?”
She slid him a sidelong glance. “First, he forgot his ID at home. Then he forgot to pack underwear. Then he waited at the wrong gate and missed his flight.”
“All quite plausible. As you said, we’re talking about Jules. I think that’s our car over there.” He pointed to a gray sedan parked halfway up the block.
“I believed his first excuse for that reason.”
The sidewalks were crowded, the traffic was in gridlock, and Times Square was just a stone’s throw away. Some of the pedestrians were well-dressed, and Ronan was reminded that the evening Broadway performances were now releasing their patrons into the streets.
Claudette’s heels clicked a rhythmic staccato as they walked. “His success and your relation to the Boudreauxes makehim an attractive target for an unscrupulous woman. Which, unfortunately, are the kind of women he prefers.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Ronan opened the rear door of the car and asked for the driver’s name. Satisfied that he had the right car, he gestured for Claudette to slide into the back. “He likes women who like a good time. I’d say that’s true for all men.”
“I wonder why I waste my breath sometimes.” Turning her head away, she looked out the window.
“Where are you guys from?” the driver asked.
“New Orleans,” Ronan answered.
“Ah. Great place. I was there for Mardi Gras once. Years back. What I remember of it was a blast.” The driver laughed as he attempted to pull away from the curb.
They were hemmed in.
Ronan realized Claudette’s foot was tapping restlessly again. He set his hand over her rapidly bouncing knee. “Now that you’ve explained why you’re upset with Jules, maybe you’ll tell me whatI’vedone to frustrate you.”
She stilled. Her lips pursed. Finally, she answered, “It suits you. Working with music.”
He, too, was surprised to find a new affinity for it. He was a hobbyist who covered other people’s music. He’d never had a hand in creating something original. The band, too, had been energized by the experience. They’d been approaching nearly twenty-four hours in the studio before they finally headed to the Vidal Hotel to rest.
“It was my only means of escape at times,” he said quietly.
She turned in the seat to face him. “You always took care of Jules and me. You’ve avenged our mother and are working on vengeance for your father. Plus, you enriched the Boudreauxes and those close to them?—”
