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“You aren’t going to answer?” I followed.
I waited for a response when I heard the sharp footsteps behind. I turned to see a man not much taller than Kennedy with Kimble. Lucien Martin.
“Kennedy, what’s going on here?”
“Dad, this is Knight Corban. He stopped by to say hello. That’s all.” I saw how quickly she walked past me to join her father as if there were an imaginary line, and she had to choose the appropriate side.
I hurried around the pool to extend my hand. “Mr. Corban, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Welcome to New Orleans.”
The older man returned the handshake. “Thank you. Why don’t you join me in my study?” He glared at his daughter.
“Actually, sir, I came to see Kennedy. Thought she might like a drive out to the beach. It’s a good day for it. I’m sure you’re an outdoorsy man.”
He stared at my button-up shirt. “You’re going to the beach like that?”
“I have a bag in the car,” I lied.
“I think we should have that drink,” he answered. “Kennedy, get dressed,” he snapped. “Knight and I are going to catch up.”
There was fire in her eyes, but I didn’t know which one of us fueled it. Me, or her father. I wanted to pull her to me. To tell her I could still fix this. There was a way to sort through the family politics and find a way to grant her freedom. But those weren’t words I could say in front of her warden.
I left her in the courtyard and followed her father inside the house.
He poured two glasses of bourbon and handed one to me. His study looked like my father’s. Old. Dark. Classic décor.
“Thank you.” I nodded.
He sat behind his desk. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make our meeting last week. Kennedy tells me you’re interested in my boutique hotel acquisition. The Vieux Carre.”
I wondered if she had told him everything we discussed. “Yes. That’s true. The hotel is an important part of our development. I’m sure you understand.”
I studied the man, trying to discern if any of Kennedy’s features were in his face. Thank God I didn’t detect a single one. She must look like her mother.
“I understand that Raphael isn’t happy I want it. That’s what I understand.” He rocked slightly in the leather chair.
“New Orleans has options for you, sir. You aren’t limited, but that particular piece of property. Well… you should know that if my father wants it, he’s going to get it. There are lots of ways he can make that happen. You should back away before there’s any bad blood between you two.”
“Is that a threat?” His voice remained even.
“No, not at all. But since you’re new, you might not realize how things work. In Philadelphia, it’s possible you were the Raphael Corban of the city. If you wanted something, you could have it. That’s not true here.” I finished the bourbon and placed the empty glass on the corner of his desk. “The quicker you learn how my father runs the city, the quicker you’ll be able to have a successful business here. Otherwise, you won’t last. The original families respect him. They respect his wishes.” I couldn’t see where any of my words had affected him.
“But you didn’t come here for me. You came because of Kennedy. You like my daughter?”
“Yes. I do. We’ve had a good time together.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-eight.”
“A little older than her. Are you sure you’re not too old for her?”
“No. Definitely not too old, sir.”
“Do you have any kids?” he pried.
I shook my head. “No, why?”
“I want that hotel.” His eyes bore into mine.
