Chapter Twenty-Nine

They managed to arrive at the Queen by three-thirty. Except for the growth of the brush encouraged by the summer rains over the last weeks, the place looked about the same—until they walked along the far side of the building. Huge spray-painted scarlet letters shouted FUCK YOU, REMY! on the grimy, gray surface of the wall.

“Shit, NuNu works fast. He most likely went into town and heard the place was unguarded. I won’t be surprised if his favorite hobby is tagging railroad cars and overpasses.”

“Really, it’s not a problem. First thing, we’ll wash the exterior, get rid of all the crud, and see where repairs need to be made. Then, we’ll give her a fresh new coat of stucco until she gleams in the sun again. I’d like to get my slate man up on the roof as soon as possible to check for leaks and do any repairs. Can’t wait to get started on the interior.” At the job site, Julia became all business, making her notes, toting up estimates of both costs and time to complete each stage.

“I guess all of Chapelle is talking about our display of exhibitionism,” Remy persisted, craving a personal reply.

Unconcerned, Julia nodded. “Yes, Sal said Marv returned from grocery shopping all a-twitter over what he heard from the cashier and Mrs. Nguyen at the fish market. He’s grilling black drum tonight. You’re invited.”

“The gossip doesn’t bother you?”

“No, but it got to Todd. Sal told him to go for a walk and let off steam. Evidently, my intern was concerned about my honor and what Patty implied about us. Sweet guy, huh?”

“No, Marv is sweet. Todd wishes the rumors about him and you were true, and not just ugly gossip.”

Julia cocked her head at Remy and let him have another blast from her hot blue eyes. “You’re cute when you go all broody, but keep it buttoned down. We have work to do. I’ll need to get some scaffolding up in the ballroom to inspect the coffers and make molds to replace the most badly damaged.”

“How can you be so calm?”

“First, I have to own what I did, and I’m not ashamed. Half the town probably wishes they’d shoved a lemon meringue pie in Patty’s face one time or another. I don’t have to live here. You do.”

Now or never. Remy sucked in a breath of hot, humid air about the same temperature as his fear of her rejecting his proposition. “I’d like you to move in with me, stay at the Black Box.”

“While the project is underway? I’m thinking this is going to take a full year to do right. That’s a long time to put up with me. Also, Sal and Sammy won’t like the idea. They’ll bring the motorhome over here as soon as Alleman is finished and stay on site. Todd is taking a break from grad school and wants see the restoration of the Queen through to the end for real practical experience. That means he’ll be bunking with the uncles. I might be able to rent a room from Mr. Getty for the duration.”

He understood her head remained in business mode. She’d covered the tight, stretchy red top with a baggy T-shirt in the truck, switched out those killer heels for sneakers, and gotten rid of the silver crucifix that dangled over him when she took her turn on top. How to take her a few hours back in time to the intimacy they’d shared this morning? Remy pushed her tablet and calculator aside and bent for a kiss. Though she accepted his lips on hers and leaned into his body, Julia shoved him back before he went any farther. “None of that on the job.”

“No one here to see us, and the job hasn’t started yet. I wanted to remind you of the chemistry we share. I meant stay with me permanently here in Chapelle. We’d see how we get along, move on to a deeper commitment, maybe merge our businesses.”

She laughed. Exactly the reaction he’d dreaded. “Oh, Remy, are you talking marriage way off in the distant future? I’m a city girl through and through, an Italian city girl. I don’t take crap from small town gossips like your grandmother very well. I’d never fit in here long term.”

“Patty wouldn’t let go of the fact that Celine Hartz had a child out of wedlock with Pammy’s son at the age of seventeen. He ran off and joined the Navy. No matter what Celine achieved, or how high she held her head, Patty kept the gossip going. Then, Celine married Jon. Now it’s won’t you come have coffee with us, Mrs. Hartz?”

“Does she?”

“No, but times have changed. The populace of Chapelle shrugs at illegitimate babies and cohabitation. It’s all too common now. No one will find our living together shocking.”

Julia shook her still unfettered hair. He yearned to touch it, smooth it, possess it, and all the rest of her. “Celine’s family goes way back here. She’d have outlasted the scandal. I’m an outsider. Always will be.”

“Okay. I’m no stranger to New Orleans.”

Her smile faded. Her eyes darkened with new knowledge. “You’d move to the city to be with me?”

“As soon as we complete our project here.”

“I’ll give it some thought. Marble finish for the ballroom, float finish for the lobby walls. Sound good?”

“It all sounds fine to me.”

****

As hot days often did, this one relaxed into balmy as evening came on fast. Since Julia hired well-recommended local painters and paperhangers for sheer practicality and to give a pop to the hometown economy, her workers arrived at dawn and knocked off at three when the interior became stifling, returning to their homes for lukewarm showers and hearty Cajun cooking.

On the back verandah, Julia, her uncles, Todd, and Remy sipped wine while Marv prepared to grill the fish, bone in, heads on, as Mrs. Nguyen always suggested. The chef declared this a celebration of the completion of the formal dining room and set an elegant table accordingly, but he did not want to sully the setting with the aroma of the main course to be served with a green apple slaw and twice-baked potatoes replete with bacon, cheese, and chives. Their host put out a tray of tomato-basil bruschetta and bowls of toasted, spiced pecans to tide them over until the meal as he hovered by the grill waiting for the exact right temperature to be reached for the quick cooking of the fish.

“Yeah, this is the life.” Sammy stretched out his hairy legs clad in Bermuda shorts and drove his hand into the nut bowl again.

“Same words you used when we went to Remy’s place,” Julia reminded him.

“Well, it is. No traffic noise or street crazies, just the bayou flowing by and mockingbirds singing in the live oaks. I could retire here, maybe in one of those condos Remy wants to build.”

“They will be built somewhere. I promise that,” Remy assured him as if the man were Old Broussard. “I’ll put you on the prospectus list.”

“Me, I could never leave the city, the old neighborhood,” Sal said, taking a gulp of red wine regardless of the notion that fish should be served with white.

“That’s what I said,” Julia let slip. She stared at her glass sure she shouldn’t have refilled it two and a half times. In wine, truth, the old saying went.

Todd caught on the fastest. “Regarding what?”

Do it now, she prompted herself. Perhaps, she’d been drinking for courage. “Remy asked me to stay with him while we restore the Queen.”

“That place only has the one bedroom.” Sal eyed Remy like a target for a nail gun.

“Aw, come on, Jules is getting up there. Time she settled down with someone—as long as it leads to marriage in the end,” Sammy chipped in, having a more liberal view about sex and women in general.

“I think it’s a bad idea, mixing business and uh…” Todd petered out before he said the word. “I mean we should have a signed contract in case their relationship doesn’t work out.”

Sal pointed a thick finger at him. “You’re an apprentice. You got no opinions. You don’t like what Jules does, go back to school. But yeah, we need a contract before anyone moves anywhere. Got that, Remy?”

“Absolutely. How soon can we draw one up? I mean, my intentions toward Julia are completely honorable.” In the end, he went the old-fashioned route, Julia noticed.

“But he’s the—” Again, Todd bit off his word, in this case, enemy. Judging from the pinched expression on his narrow face, doing so left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Julia showed mercy and laid a gentle hand on his arm as he’d posted himself on her far side since Remy occupied the other. “We’re allies on this project now. All of us need to keep business separate from our personal lives.”

“Fish is ready,” Marv called from the yard as he laid their meal on a platter adorned with a bed of parsley and cherry tomatoes. “Bring the wine.”

He led the procession into the house and down the hall to the formal dining room. Todd bolted ahead on long legs to open the double doors.

“Ta-da!” Marv announced.

With the Corinthian molding picked out in gold and the walls papered in a period pattern that simulated arches rounding the room, the place did look magnificent. Each faux arch held a family portrait massively framed, not of Mr. Getty’s ancestors, but interesting faces he’d purchased in antique stores and at art auctions. Some appeared jovial, some very serious, a few looked down their long noses at Sal and Sammy in their shorts, Julia in the blue dress and sandals she’d worn when she first met Patty, Todd in his Regal Restorations khakis and knit shirt, and Remy still clad in chambray and jeans. Only Marv who served the fish onto gold-rimmed dishes with the aplomb of a fine butler seemed to pass muster. The apple slaw already occupied the salad plates and the twice-potatoes taken from the oven just prior to the grilling of the fish sat on the plates. Todd beat Remy in pulling out a chair for Julia.

“Before we begin, refill your glasses. I propose a toast in honor of this magnificent room.” Marv expanded his arms wide to include the shining pine floor and the oriental rug that cushioned a mahogany table ringed by six chairs. Crystal, fine china, and sterling silver adorned its top. “You are the first to dine here, a reward for your hard work. May the Queen turn out as well.”

“Here, here!” Sammy downed his wine.

“It will turn out just as well, perhaps better,” Julia assured Marv.

“Enjoy,” he replied.

No one attacked the meal. Sal held up an odd knife, broad with a pick at the tip. “What’s this for?”

“Oh, your fish knife. Mr. Getty has an extensive collection of Victorian silver. I thought it would fun to use some of it for this occasion. Use flat of the knife to separate the skin from the fish, then flake some off on your fish fork, which is next to your dinner fork. Use the tip to pick out any bones.”

“Right,” Sammy said, but basically sat there clutching the fish knife and waiting for someone else to begin. Finally, Julia took the plunge, managing fairly well. Remy proceeded as if he’d handled arcane Victorian flatware all his life. Maybe he had considering his southern aristocratic mother and his social-climbing granny. The thought made Julia a tad uncomfortable no matter what he said about his lowly origins. The rest did the best they could, and truly no one cared.

Marv ended the meal by bringing out coffee and warm bread pudding swimming in whiskey sauce. They lingered in the lovely setting, mostly talking about the progress at Alleman and plans for the Queen. Full darkness arrived and the question of where Julia planned to spend the night hung in the air like the gibbous moon outside.

Remy suggested it was time he left and looked at Julia pointedly as did all the other men. “I’ll walk you to your truck,” she said.

“More coffee, brandy?” Marv offered to relieve the tension. Three heads shook to reject the offer.

Julia rose, the men with her, and took Remy’s arm, guided him out to the front portico and down the path to his vehicle. The others clustered beneath the hanging lantern that illuminated the porch. She moved to the far side of the truck for privacy.

“Why don’t you pack and come with me tonight?” Remy crowded her against the side panel and pressed against her body.

Julia smiled in the light of the more than half full moon. “Not until we have a signed contract.”

“How long will that be?”

“A few days. You’ll want to look over it carefully before putting your name on the agreement.”

“I trust you.”

“As Todd almost said, we shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.”

“We were having a moment here. Why bring him into it?”

“Because he’s right. It won’t be long, Remy. It won’t be six weeks.”

He initiated a kiss meant to change her mind. It did not. She trusted Remy, but his family not so much.