Chapter Twenty-One

Remy awoke still angry, so angry he called Hartz immediately to ask for a few minutes of his time this morning. He got the PA, Adrienne Stone Landry, still called Heart of Stone by some of the locals, who made it abundantly clear that ten minutes was all the time the billionaire could spare. Her sleek body and alert, intelligent eyes reminded him of a Doberman, and she protected her boss/brother-in-law that well.

He had plenty of time to stop by the bank and remove the Broussard funds from his account. They were placed in a new account labeled Black Diamonds, Ltd. Someday, when the project moved forward, Old Broussard should thank him, though Remy wouldn’t place bets on it. He proceeded to the Hartz Technology plant, had his name checked on a list, and received his visitor’s badge, nothing warm and friendly about this part.

Remy parked where directed close to the grand lobby in spaces reserved for guests, after passing the water feature that once held gators which had gotten too friendly and been removed, and other Hartz amenities, like picnic areas and a basketball court all beautifully landscaped. He should have visited earlier to take a tour and soak in the magnificence of the lobby as impressive as any bank. The polished granite of the floor had an earthy brown tint edged in green stone. Chihuly glass sculptures hung from the two-story ceiling. Helpful signage said they were called swamp forms and did rather mimic the canopies of cypress trees, flocks of flying egrets, and maybe that one was an alligator. They didn’t block the view of the Hartz logo, twin steel blue hearts pierced by a golden lightning bolt, embedded in the center of the second-floor balcony.

He headed for the reception desk to make his presence known, but halfway across the space, Mrs. Landry beckoned him to take one of the opposing staircases to join her above the lobby. Hartz supposedly never took the elevator behind the desk, part of his fitness regimen. Remy did the same.

All business, Mrs. Landy greeted him by saying, “This way,” but he paused for a minute to peer over the railing at the glass sculptures. “They look different from up here as if we’re in an airplane flying over the Basin. Jesus, I wish I’d designed this place. It’s fantastic.”

The PA allowed herself to release a small smile. “Thank you. I had some say in its design. Come along, only ten minutes, remember?”

Remy followed her brisk pace to the inner sanctum of Hartz Technology, no waiting, no second interrogation by another secretary. They sailed right in under Mrs. Landry’s flag where again he felt the warmth of Hartz’s greeting and received the offer of water or coffee despite their limited time. The Hartz domain spread out beyond the tinted windows, the vast, single story factory surrounded by endless fields of cane and the brown water snake of the bayou winding through them. After a shake of the hand, Hartz took his seat and asked, “Are you here to accept any of my proposals?”

“On behalf of the Broussards, no.”

The billionaire’s always optimistic face fell, making him appear older and less boyish. “That will be a blow to Celine and Julia, not to mention Jane. I’m sorry to hear this.”

“It appears we won’t need the entire ten minutes,” Mrs. Landry said. “I’ll show you out.”

Remy stayed seated. He pulled the proposals from his briefcase. “Nor do I want to sell you the property. But, if you are still interested in entering into a partnership with me to restore the Queen, I’ll sign the deal today.”

The enthusiastic boy who still had a feel for what new games and products kids wanted reemerged. “Wonderful! While you will manage the project, I hope you’ll accept some suggestions from your 49% partner and the women who care so much about this restoration, especially Julia.”

“Yes, especially Julia. I won’t move forward without her by my side.”

Though Hartz and his PA exchanged glances over that comment, Mrs. Landry said, “The contracts are already drawn. I’ll get them.” She left by an inner door to her own upper-echelon lair.

“Do you mind if I share this news with Celine? She’ll be excited.” Hartz had his phone in hand.

“Not at all—but allow me to take the news to Julia. I’ll be going directly to Alleman from here.”

Hartz gave him an understanding smile. His PA returned with the contracts. “Sign in the indicated places. It’s the same as the copies I gave you the other day. Off you go to tell Julia.” He shooed Remy out of the office with a flick of his hand. The ever-vigilant Mrs. Landry tailed him until he left his guest badge at the desk and exited the building.

Feeling free and unencumbered by family obligations, he flew along the road to Alleman, ignoring the jolts caused by the potholes, and turned in at the pillars of the old plantation home. He found Marv in the kitchen, but no one else. “They’re upstairs. Todd is getting a lesson in crack repair.”

Remy homed in on the sound of Julia’s voice as he reached the landing and made his way to a bedroom with a tester bed, a huge walnut armoire, and two marble-topped nightstands shoved in its center. Sam and Sal probably provided the muscle to move the furniture. They stood out of the way with their arms folded while Julia in full plasterer’s garb lectured a rapt Todd. Remy entered quietly, content for the moment just to hear her voice full of enthusiasm for what she taught.

“Lime plaster is a living, breathing entity. Small cracks like these will open and close seasonally according to the humidity level and are not a major problem.”

“Kind of eerie, though,” Sammy commented. “I had an aunt with walls like that. Hated staying over at her place.”

“But we can get rid of them by making them slightly broader with a crack widener. No sophomoric jokes, please. This is very sharp tool. We cut away plaster to make the cracks wider, then fill them in with patching material. Don’t even think of using plaster of Paris,” Julia warned as if Todd had actually dared to suggest that.

“No, ma’am, I wouldn’t do that or joke about it.”

“Plaster of Paris must be mixed with lime to be successful.” She drew the edge of the crack widener along the gap to show the width needed for the repair, then handed it to Todd to give it a try.

“Julia,” Remy said. “I have news!”

Todd’s hand slipped, and he gouged the wall. “Look what you made me do.”

Julia patted her intern’s shoulder as if he were a favored pet. “Not a problem. We can fix that.” Her tone cooled considerably when she faced Remy. “You had something say?”

“Yes. I signed a contract with Jonathan Hartz this morning to restore the Queen. I accepted the partnership. The Broussards are out of it. It’s just him and me and whatever grants Jane can get. And you. Especially you, because no one is better than Regal Restorations.”

“Ain’ that the truth,” Sal said. Not the person Remy wanted to hear from.

“Actually, you should get quotes from a variety of contractors for the best deal, but of course we will give you an estimate.” Julia turned back to Todd.

“But I want you.” He didn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe the cluttered room prevented Jules from flinging herself at him in joy and rapture, but certainly more than this coldness. Remy admitted he wanted to be rewarded for taking this brave step forward. Obviously, Julia had no idea what it would cost him financially or otherwise to sever ties with the Broussards over the Queen. Possibly all of his parish business. He might have to move back to the New Orleans area. Not a hardship if Julia lived nearby. “Jules?”

At last, she answered him. “I hoped this day might come, but didn’t really believe it. Anyhow, I already have estimates drawn up for Jane to use in her grant writing. I’ll get them to you. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Still, Julia didn’t move from her spot, but Sam and Sal came over to slam him on the back and pump his hand. “Way to go, Remy.” If only they weren’t hairy Italian males.

“I came here directly from Hartz Technology to tell you myself.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to your lessons.” He backed from the room as if she might stab him with that crack widener.

He heard her uncles ragging on her as he left. “Jesus, Jules, why don’t you just seal him in a wall and plaster it over. He came through for you.” Nice to know someone was on his side.

His best hope—that she might deliver those estimates to him alone tonight.