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Graham’s daughter wore her light brown hair in a ponytail with streaming green ribbons. Her cotton dress was wrinkled and she looked as if she’d been eating cheese puffs because her lips were ringed in orange. Her cheeks were adorably chubby as was her middle. She looked nothing like her sophisticated mother, and for a moment, Tess felt absolutely sorry for the poor baby.
“Mom, can I have some Girl Scout cookies? I can share with Tess.”
Meanwhile Monique had turned to Louie. “Make those adjustments and I’ll take a look before the mâché goes on.”
“Mom?” Emily intoned in that whiny voice invoked by almost every child on the planet.
“Whatever you want, Emily. Just don’t ruin your lunch. Your father will be angry.” Monique moved toward another painting bay, the click of her heels accompanying her dismissal of her child.
Emily’s expression dissolved into bitter disappointment. Tess felt her own heart flinch in response.
“Know what? I’m about to take a break and go to Magglio’s for a slushie. You want to come with me?” Tess asked, having no such intention but feeling like she needed to do something more than stand there watching Emily hunger for a crumb of her mother’s affection.
Emily’s blue eyes lit. “Yes, please.” Then she yelled across the wide aisle, “Mom, can I go?”
Monique tossed her inky hair over her shoulder and looked at Tess. “You’re already taking a break?”
“Actually I’ve been working on sketches for Eddie all morning, and I need something more than coffee. Saturdays were made for strawberry slushes, don’t you think?”
“Yay.” Emily clapped.
“Sure,” Monique said before turning back to another painter to inquire about a shade of brown that didn’t match on one part of a prop.
Tess motioned Emily toward the exit. The little girl skipped ahead, pushing the exit bar, struggling against the heavy steel door. Tess shoved it open, allowing sunshine to tumble inside the dusty building.
Outside, the world was in weekend mode… or maybe it merely felt that way. Tess usually didn’t come in to work on the weekend, but Monique had demanded she drop by and show her the preliminary sketches for Edward Mendez’s krewe. The woman salivated over the chance to earn some of the krewes’ business. So Tess had tugged on old jeans and a too tight T-shirt because she hadn’t had time to do laundry and hustled down to Upstart to show Monique her sketches.
Needless to say, Tess had spent the last two hours making the adjustments Monique wanted. Tess had liked them the way they were and her father never would have nickel-and-dimed her lines or colors, but she now accepted she wasn’t in charge.
Monique was… and her controlling nature was very evident.
Something she’d run into when it came to the sketches for Oedipus. Tess had worked personally with krewe captain Miles Barrow for years, but Monique and Cecily had already completed designs for the floats. Tess all but insisted she be given the chance to design something for the krewe’s silver anniversary, a kernel of an idea she’d been playing around with for months. Tess hoped a superior design might dazzle Monique enough to give her the account. Monique relented, telling Tess she could work on the Oedipus design on her own time, but she would decide which designs were subbed to Miles based on cost, ease, and design.
“I like Coca-Cola slushes,” Emily said, jarring Tess from her contemplation. The child looked up at Tess as they waited to cross the intersection. “You like strawberry best?”
“I’m a strawberry-mixed-with-Coca-Cola girl. I like peach, too.”
“Yuck,” Emily wrinkled her nose, sticking out her hand so Tess could lead her across the street.
“Well, I like it.” Tess laughed, looking down at Graham’s daughter. Emily wasn’t a beautiful child, but Tess had a sneaking suspicion she’d grow into quite a looker. She had long legs, thick wavy hair and a sparkle of good humor in her eyes… and Graham had gifted her with the most beautiful eyes.
Minutes later after snitching a brownie made by Alva Magglio herself—a treat since Alva had contracted rheumatoid arthritis and shifted the baking over to her daughter-in-law who didn’t have the touch—Tess and Emily made their way back to Upstart’s den. Sitting outside in his shiny silver car was the man Tess had tried like the devil to forget… and failed, of course.
“Daddy!” Emily screamed, trying to run across the street without looking.
Tess grabbed her, yanking her back and causing Emily to drop her slushie. “Emily, you can’t cross without looking.”
“My slushie,” the little girl groaned looking down at the mess on the edge of the street.
“I’ll get you another, but it’s more important you don’t end up as roadkill.”
“What’s roadkill?”
Graham jogged over, scooped up the busted cup and narrowed his eyes at Emily. “Young lady, you are not to cross the street without an adult. You nearly got hit by that truck.”
Lip edging out, Emily dropped her head. “Sorry.”
Graham tossed the crushed cup in the garbage can outside Magglio’s. He wore a pair of khaki shorts, a plain T-shirt and running shoes. Tess had never seen anything sexier on a man. Well, except his suit. Graham had looked hot in his buttoned-up suit and power tie. And, well, he was smokin’ without clothes. So maybe he looked sexy-level eight on a ten-point scale, but it was enough to do funny things to Tess’s resolve to hate him.
