AllFreeNovel
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“Oh…Mr. Beaumont.” Kelly’s voice came through the speaker. “Um…is Ms. Harrington there?”
Deacon glanced at Olivia and waited for her to respond. She couldn’t. Someone was stealing money from her company? No wonder they were going under. After only a moment, Deacon answered Kelly. “Ms. Harrington is a little indisposed right now. What’s up?”
“Ms. Fontaine is wanting to purchase a diamond necklace, and I didn’t think Ms. Harrington wanted me to charge that kind of money. But when I told Ms. Fontaine that, she threw a major fit. I wouldn’t care—I mean, if the woman wants to make a fool of herself, I say let her—but the security guard at the jewelry store is about to call the cops.”
“Put Babette on,” Deacon said, and only a second later was speaking fluent French in the soothing tone he’d used before. He paused, then went back to English. “I think Babette’s shopping spree is over for the day, Kelly. Besides, I need you to help Jason Melvin with some accounting.” After he hung up, he handed the accounting sheets back to Jason. “You realize that she’s using sex as a smoke screen.”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He took the sheets from Deacon. “I’ll make some copies of these and keep digging.” He looked at Olivia. “You okay?”
She wasn’t okay, but she nodded anyway.
When Jason was gone, Deacon walked over to the minibar and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. He splashed some in a glass and brought it to Olivia. “Here, drink this.” She downed it in one swallow, the alcohol burning just enough to make her realize that she wasn’t in a movie or a dream.
“I’m going to lose French Kiss, aren’t I?” she whispered.
“It looks that way.” He took the glass from her and refilled it before handing it back. “And I have to wonder why you care. If you like the lingerie business so much, why didn’t you just take the money Uncle Michael left you and start your own company? Why did you want to keep this dinosaur?”
Taking the glass with her, she got up and walked to the window. Fog had rolled in. In the distance thick layers of cotton shrouded the Golden Gate Bridge, giving it the look of some heavenly kingdom rising up from the clouds.
She took a sip of the bourbon and enjoyed the burn, then downed the entire glass. She was halfway through the third glass Deacon had poured her when she finally released some of her pain.
“Michael used to love to walk in the fog. He said on foggy days, he could almost imagine that he was back in Paris, walking along the Seine. For my eleventh birthday, he had the French Kiss designers make me a purple rain slicker with matching boots so I could go with him on those walks. I loved that slicker, but I loved what it represented even more. It meant that I wasn’t just a third wheel he’d gotten in the marriage to my mom. Michael actually liked having me around.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“I’m not.” She took another sip. “I’m not sure of anything anymore. I thought he was grooming me to take over French Kiss. I thought he wanted me to continue the legacy.”
“It’s a lingerie company, Livy. Nothing more.”
Livy had always been her father’s nickname for her. Coming from Deacon it felt wrong…and at the same time so right. She turned. He leaned against the desk, and in the overcast light coming in the window, his eyes looked deep purple.
A French Kiss purple.
“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “This isn’t just a lingerie company. It’s my life.”
