DON'T GET AROUND MUCH ANYMORE
Luc never broke his stride. He pushed through the school’s glass doors as if it was perfectly natural to have a woman flung over his shoulder. Outside, he gently slid her off him and placed her on the sidewalk, or banquette as they called it back home. He grabbed her by the wrist so she couldn’t take off for the door. “There. We’ll have a little privacy now.”
She flipped her head over in front of him, allowing her ponytail to smack him across the face, which seemed as childish as digging her nails into a playground nemesis. “Go ahead. Grab it and drag me back to your cave now, you Neanderthal. Is that how they solve disagreements in corporate America? No wonder this country’s going down the tubes.”
From her vantage upside down, she noticed Luc’s limousine stretched carelessly across the parking lot, blocking the staff’s row of compact beaters. At the sight of the driver’s impish grin she straightened back up, but not before she heard a set of clicks and caught sight of a man running. “Who was that?”
Luc chuckled. “That was what we call the paparazzi— most aptly named after buzzing mosquitoes, I might add.”
“What are they doing here?”
“Right about now? I think they’re catching multimillionaire bachelor Luc DeForges being smacked in the face by a feisty redhead’s ponytail. Now, why I’m being smacked in the face, that will be where their stellar storytelling comes in. Perhaps you caught me cheating on you? Or maybe you’re a former roommate of my girlfriend . . . It’s anybody’s guess.”
“Well, go catch him!” She shook his shoulders, then heard more clicks. “Luc! I’m going to be engaged. I can’t be seen smacking you in the face with my ponytail!”
“Or shaking me? That looks pretty bad on film too, just so you know.”
“Luc, I am a teacher of special needs children. I can’t be seen getting violent with a man in front of my school. It could cost me my job!”
“Then you probably shouldn’t have done it.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding me, right? This is all part of your elaborate plan to get me to do what you want.”
“I told you those stories about me in the tabloids were made-up. The ‘bubble-headed blondes,’ as you call them. The many ‘walks of shame’ you supposedly see me taking. Maybe there’s another story, that’s all I’m saying.”
“What you do with your time is no concern of mine.”
“It’s good for you to see how made-up my image is. It’s what sells rags: ‘Organic King Is a Dog.’ I have to say, though, seeing how boring you’ve become, I’m hoping they come up with something really spicy so you leave the single life with zeal. Do you think the folks back home will recognize us together? You being upside down and all. I think he got your good side, though.”
“Luc! It’s not funny! What is Dexter going to say? How do I even explain to him that I didn’t invite you here? What’s my church going to say?” The more animated she grew, the more sedate he became. She grabbed him again by the shoulders. “Luc!”
“You’re so beautiful, Katie. I forgot how those eyes of yours get to a guy.”
She dropped her hands to her side. “You’re rich and famous. I’m just a schoolteacher. What’s my fiancé going to think? I never explained that you were my ex.”
“Don’t think Poindexter could handle the competition? I’m flattered. That’s kind of you, to take his lack of faith in himself into consideration.”
Katie felt the blood drain from her face. “Did you just say Poindexter?”
“Poindexter, yeah. He’s the one who gave me your address at work. How’d you think I found you?”
“You knew . . . about Dexter?” Her mind churned. Did it bother Luc that she was about to pledge her life to another? If it did, he showed no sign of it.
“I prefer Poindexter. It fits him.”
“It doesn’t!” she protested, with slightly too much venom in her voice. She sucked in a deep breath before she continued. “Dex is brilliant. He went to MIT.”
“Book learnin’. I figured, but I’m not impressed.”
“Fortunately, it doesn’t matter what you think.”
“Why aren’t you engaged already? If he’s going to do it, why doesn’t he just ask? What’s all the talk?”
“If you must know, my ring is back home.” Her voice trailed off, and she closed her eyes.
“To get engaged you need your nana’s ring? So it seems you do need to get back home to New Orleans.”
She sighed in defeat.
“It’s my business to know about people when I’m entering into a negotiation. Certainly a potential fiancé creates an obstacle to my dating the woman he supposedly loves. I need to factor this into the equation. But it also helps that I know you need to get home, Katie, and I have the opportunity to offer you a free trip.” He focused on her stained shirt. “I thought maybe we could help each other out.”
“Dex doesn’t know about you, Luc. I mean, he knows about you being my boyfriend all through college and of course . . . the rest of it. But he doesn’t know you’re the billionaire in the tabloids!” She stamped her foot like a toddler. “How could you let this happen?”
“I didn’t know they’d follow me here.”
“That wasn’t part of your brilliant equation?” The edge in her voice was unmistakable.
Luc chuckled. “I never imagined I’d give them the money shot of a woman slung over my shoulder, with a follow-up shot of her slapping me with her lustrous tresses. I imagine that photographer can take a few days off now.” He lifted a forefinger. “You’re right, this was a great breach of offensive tactics, and I regret the error.”
“You can’t let that picture be printed.” Her throat clamped with emotion. “Luc, I’ve worked so hard to be this new person. Please! ”
His rational voice remained unchanged. “There was nothing wrong with your old person.”
“That’s not what I mean. This is pointless!” She walked back to the doors, and he pressed against them. “I’m not going home with you. I would rather hitchhike across the country or ride the next hurricane in than enter that den of iniquity you call a private jet.”
He laughed. “Den of . . . never mind. Now that I finally have your attention, Miss McKenna, let’s get down to business. As I stated earlier, my brother Ryan is having a forties-themed wedding in approximately two weeks. I can’t imagine you’d let him get married without your presence. In fact, I find the option rude and completely out of your character.”
“Ryan will understand. I didn’t even make it to my own mother’s wedding!”
“Where are you, Katie? Where’s that girl who can swing dance with the grace of water? The one who can rock a pencil skirt and clunky heels . . . sing a love song so that the listeners think their own hearts are breaking? Where’s the Katie that I knew, who could make a man want to go to war just for the sheer pleasure of returning home? Where is she now?”
She blinked away her emotions. “Save that garbage for someone who buys your lines and takes the familiar walk of shame from your jet.” She turned and strode back toward the building.
“Careful, Katie. It may appear from those pictures as if you’re doing your own walk of shame. I wouldn’t be so quick to judge if I were you.”
“What kind of scorned woman dresses like a haus frau?” She spoke the words to the door, but she could feel him behind her and caught his reflection in the window.
“Ah, so you do have some vanity left in you after all.” He raised his arm to the sky and caught the limo driver’s attention. “Find out who got that shot and offer to pay for it!” His gaze fell back upon her as he gently turned her by the shoulders. “I’ll do my best. Hopefully, we know the kid and we can pay him off. Now, back to our negotiations—”
She felt worn and lifeless, like a true rag doll. She’d rather feed the kids eight times over than enter a battle of wills with Luc DeForges. She tugged at the hem of her shirt. “You have no idea what’s going to happen in that room if the kids aren’t fed on time. Their schedule is crucial. Each day must be like the last with small, announced changes—” She karate chopped her palm for emphasis, and Luc laughed. She felt it to her core.
“Who are you now, Katie?” He looked at her with what might only be described as pity.
“This is who I am!”
“I know you think so.” He lifted one brow, as if going in for the kill. “It’s a free trip home, Katie. No strings attached. No expectations, and a free forties outfit. Ingrid Bergman or Ginger Rogers, the look is on me. The chance to revisit the old Katie, just to see if she has anything to say to you. Maybe you’re right . . .” He stood straighter and stepped away from her. “That part of you is gone, but what have you got to lose? And you wouldn’t dare let me announce to my brother I’d failed at something, would you? Besides, if you’re planning to move ahead with this wedding, you need your nana’s ring.”
“My mam can mail it to me.”
“We both know she won’t. Let’s talk price.”
“I don’t have a price, Luc. I never did. Maybe you’re looking for the real Katie in the wrong place.” She stared at him, willing him to get how simple the answer really was— all she’d ever wanted from him was his heart. To know she wasn’t merely a number in his harem but that she’d been special . . . loved by him. Even if he hadn’t been strong enough to do anything about his feelings, the knowledge would mean something to her.
She stared into his blue eyes and felt her stomach spiral with the connection she felt to him: a physical, life-affirming glow from within that she could never explain, but which formed some kind of bridge between them and seemed incapable of perishing.
“I have to go.” She walked back into the classroom and saw that Carrie and Selena had everything under control. The kids were being fed, and the room was quiet with the gentle hum of moaning and silverware clanging. She heard Luc trailing her and felt the presence of his warmth near. Whatever the tabloids printed, whatever lifestyle he lived now, Katie knew the man who dwelled within . . . but did he?
She turned to see him staring at the various metal paraphernalia, the wheelchairs, the kids themselves. “The needs here seem endless, Katie. How do you stand it?”
She actually felt sorry for him in that moment. “I love it. I’m doing something to make it better. No one knows what these kids might have to offer the world. They’re like little gifts waiting to be unwrapped.” She lifted up a pair of plastic shears. “And I have scissors!”
Luc shrugged out of his suit coat. He tossed it over a chair, unbuttoned his sleeves, and shoved them past his elbows. “I’m not leaving until you say yes. We need to feed the kids, we’ll feed the kids. What do I do?”
“You’re going to help?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Why don’t you take Austin then? He eats those sweet potatoes in front of him.” She handed Luc a small spoon while Selena and Carrie backed away deferentially, almost reverently. “Let him swallow each bite. He chokes easily. It’s a slow process, so if you’re in a hurry you might as well go before you start.”
Luc opened the small jar of baby food and knelt in front of the cherubic-looking Austin, who was settled behind a tray attached to his fixed-tilt wheelchair. Austin was seven, but he had the body of an average three-year-old. Severely autistic, he was also allergic to most foods and tended to throw more than he ate. His hands were always stimming; mechanical, repetitive movements that made it hard to get the food into his mouth—not unlike a miniature golf hole that had a revolving door. Though he looked high functioning, he was by far the hardest of the children to feed.
“Hi, Austin,” Luc said.
Austin looked at some invisible target in the upper corner of the room.
Luc’s first spoonful was met with Austin’s clapping hands, and the orange mash exploded into thick droplets that sprayed Luc’s slacks and pressed blue shirt. “We missed.” Luc scooped up another spoonful.
Selena and Carrie looked at Katie to see if she would take over, but she just crossed her arms and waited.
Luc had slightly better results with the second spoonful, but then everyone’s expression changed at the sound of a small giggle.
“He laughed!” Selena said.
“Of course he laughed. Look what he did to my suit. You little bugger!” Luc spoke right into Austin’s face, and the boy stared at him. Not through him but actually at Luc.
Austin laughed again.
Katie sank to her knees next to Luc. “Talk to him again.”
Luc took a rag and wiped Austin’s hands to stop their obligatory movement, and the child stilled, mesmerized. Aware.
“I wonder if it’s your deep voice. Austin’s dad doesn’t live with him.”
The boy giggled again and tried to grab the head of the spoon, which Luc pulled away.
“You think that’s funny?” Luc scooped up more sweet potato mash, and Austin batted it away and giggled. “The secret is to aim for his forehead, I think.”
Selena and Carrie stopped their cleanup work with the other kids and watched Luc’s actions as intently as Katie did.
“Say something else to him, Luc,” Carrie said.
“See, women don’t understand us boys, Austin. They think if you don’t do it their way, you’re doing it wrong. But you and me, we know the truth, don’t we? We know it’s more fun to wear our food than eat it, especially when it’s orange mush!” Luc stilled the spoon. “Can’t you get him a more manly meal?”
Selena giggled. “A manly meal. What would that look like?”
“I don’t know. A stew maybe.”
“He chokes, Luc,” Katie said as she rolled her eyes.
“You’re coddling him, that’s all. Give a man a little space here. You think they’d never seen a boy eat before,” he said to Austin, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off Luc.
Austin took the next spoonful of sweet potatoes without a battle and swallowed it without incident. He followed up with another and another until the jar stood empty.
“Score!” Luc cried as he raised his arms into goal position.
“Luc, do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
“We ate our lunch. No more of that garbage, all right? I’m going to have the store send something over for the kids to eat. Do you know how many additives and preservatives are in that? We can mash our own sweet potatoes, and that boy won’t know what hit him. You add a little brown sugar, and you’ve got dessert.” Luc winked at Austin. “Stick with me, kid.”
Austin giggled again. It almost sounded familiar now.
“Will that get me a date to my brother’s wedding? Because I’m sort of desperate here.” Luc looked straight at her with his brilliant blue eyes, and Austin’s fascination didn’t seem so out of the ordinary any longer.
Maybe she did have a price after all. “Did you mean what you said about the food?”
“Have I ever lied to you, Katie?”
“I prefer not to answer that question.”
“Fair enough. I supply you with decent food for these kids, you’ll come?”
“And new high chairs and equipment for the classroom. And one more aide for an entire year.” She cut her eyes at him like a film noir actress.
Luc roared with laughter. “I may have created a monster. I do all that, and you’ll go?”
She felt breathless, but her answer tumbled out of her mouth regardless. “Yes, I’ll go. I guess I do have my price.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, Katie.” Luc reached over his shoulder and shook her hand.
A wistful sigh escaped her. What might her life have looked like if Luc hadn’t developed such a head for business? Not that it mattered. One didn’t get consumed by those kinds of emotions and come out better for it on the other side. That only happened on the silver screen with the likes of Fred and Ginger. Love that cost a person everything was too big a risk. Careful, thoughtful companionship made for a healthy relationship, and she’d do well to remind herself of that often until Ryan’s wedding came and went.
When she’d left New Orleans, she’d vowed never to let a man have that kind of power over her emotions again, and she’d stuck to her promise. Fiery, passionate emotion made for trouble, pain, and far too much loss—in essence, it didn’t last.
This wedding provided the perfect opportunity for closure so that she might commit herself fully to the idea of marriage and practicality. Right after she wore that vintage gown and sang the standards one last time . . . and explained to Dexter why she was photographed flung over a man’s shoulder.