Chapter Thirty

Four fuckin’ weeks, or rather four non-fuckin’ weeks to get that contract signed. Remy rarely used the F-word. He considered it crude, along with screwing, porking—you name it. He had sex with some, made love to others, depending on the woman. In Julia’s case, he always called it making love.

The initial contract arrived in two weeks. Todd, put in charge of arranging all of Julia’s notes and checking her estimates, claimed the computer lost the file, and he’d had a terrible time restoring it. Ha, restoring! Once Remy did get hold of it, he read every work and requested some minor changes to show Julia an attention to detail and lack of haste that nearly killed him. Then, off the document went to Jonathan Hartz who made further changes before it returned to Julia for revamping. This time, the printer broke down. Remy snatched the papers and placed them personally in the hands of the efficient Mrs. Landy at Hartz Technology for duplication. Suspecting sabotage by Todd, he asked for extras.

In the meantime, Regal Restorations finished at Alleman. Mr. Getty appeared in a white linen suit and a Panama hat covering the pink, bald spot in his scalp—channeling Truman Capote—to sign off on the punch list. So pleased, he gave the company a bonus and immediately hung his abstract art abundantly on Julia’s pristine hallway walls until not a bit of plaster showed. He also offered her a room to stay until she moved on to her next job, damn him.

As for Hartz, he wanted to make an occasion of the signing and put his wife and Mrs. Landry in charge of issuing invitations, ordering champagne, and hiring a caterer for the event to take place in the grand lobby of Hartz Technology. Yes, Pommier’s could make a cake that sort of resembled the Queen, but it would take some time.

Time! It passed too slowly before the press photographed himself, Hartz, and Julia placing their signatures on the document. She copiously thanked the Live Oak Preservation Society and the Historic District Committee, plus naming the politicians who had spoken in favor of the project, always great for future goodwill. Taking the high road, Patty Broussard had been invited and lauded for her efforts. Remy’s grandmother seethed to one side of the dais hoping to get her picture taken, which no amount of rancor for Julia would prevent. Finally, she photo-bombed the group by squeezing between Remy and Hartz and shoving Julia nearly out of the frame.

Jane Tauzin, who had hyped the event to the far borders of the state and assured the attendance of the press way beyond Chapelle, ended the formal part of the program by announcing that two of the original ballroom chandeliers had been discovered in storage, once purchased to adorn another hotel, and packed away when that establishment also failed. The owner offered to donate them, turning the pair over to Regal Restorations for duplication. A round of applause released the crowd for free eats and fairly decent champagne, mimosas or coffee if preferred.

Still, Remy waited as Julia circulated to each group of well-wishers, and he evaded his grandmother’s clutches. Finally, the last shrimp had been dunked in cocktail sauce, and chicken salad sandwiches found their way onto paper plates covered by napkins to take home, along with slices of white cake, raspberry-filled, from the replica leaving only the plastic pillars behind as if it were a Civil War ruin. Remy swore to himself that he’d take Julia home tonight whether she’d packed or not.

Sammy approached and slung a heavy arm around his shoulders. “You should look happier. This is a big day, a very big day. Me and Sal are going to see the old ladies back to their place. Miss Lolly and Miss Maxie hit the booze a little too much. I’ll drive their car, and Sal will follow in our truck. We’ll move the RV over to the Queen right after we get them settled.”

“What about Julia?”

“I put her bags in the back of your truck.”

“Really?” News too good to be true.

“Honest to God.” Sam crossed himself for emphasis. “You take good care of her now. She thinks she doesn’t need it, but all women do. Just my opinion, for what it’s worth.” Sammy moved off after issuing a hearty backslap.

Sal stood by the exit supporting Lolly and Maxie on either arm. Miss Lolly proclaimed rather loudly, “Yes, we knew the mimosas contained champagne. That’s why we were drinking them!”

“Besides, the orange juice is good for our old bones,” Miss Maxie added.

Sal had a pretty glum face considering the landing of a huge contract. Not as on board about letting go of his niece, Remy suspected. Where was she, anyhow?

Julia came up behind him and laid a hand on his arm. His reaction nearly knocked a huge cornerstone of the cake from the plate in her other hand. “Time to go to my place, Jules. A deal is a deal. Your uncles put your bags in my truck.”

Julia moved her hand to touch that short beard he’d kept because she seemed to enjoy stroking it so much. “I love when you go all assertive on me, but who do you think asked them to do that?” Without turning, she said, “Todd, drive my truck over to the Queen or use it however you want. Take the afternoon off. Tomorrow the real work begins.”

Her intern appeared like her shadow in sunshine, a minion toting a large box of leftovers. “You want this stuff in the truck too?” Surly, Remy thought.

“No, that’s for you and my uncles. The motorhome will be on site shortly. You can stow it there. Enjoy some free time.” She handed over the keys.

“If you say so.” One unhappy man, Todd shambled away.

Outside the air-conditioned haven, heat radiated off the parking lot hot enough to melt the icing on the cake as Julia and Remy crossed to his vehicle and got inside. He turned the A/C on high, needing to cool off in more ways than one.

Happy and relaxed, Julia leaned her head against the rest and stretched out her legs. “My slate man will be on the roof tomorrow, and we’ll start washing the building.”

That’s what she wanted to talk about, the project? “Hey, we also have the afternoon off. No talking shop.”

“Fine with me, but I have to let you know every day won’t be like this. When I’m on a job, I return home dusty, sweaty, and often dead tired. I want to sink into a hot tub and wash it all away before ordering takeout.”

“I’ll be right there with you.”

“On the job?”

“Yep, and in that tub. Mine is big enough for two.” He couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face.

“Well, all right then.” She said little else, just studied the countryside slipping by, pondering something judging by the crease above her eyes.

“Your thoughts?”

“This is a big step we’re taking.”

“A giant step.”

“What if…”

“No what ifs today.” He steered the truck through his gateway and parked it by the door. “You get to eat any of that cake today?”

“No, too busy socializing. How about you?”

“I stayed away from the cake table since my grandmother pushed the caterer aside to do the cutting. That way, everyone had to come to her. Think that chunk is safe to eat?”

“Yes, Celine put it aside for us before Patty took over. I believe we deserve dessert right now.”

Naked, they ate it on the black satin bedspread, rolled in the crumbs, and used gobs of frosting creatively before making love in the afternoon, all afternoon. Afterward, they shared the tub, cleaning areas where no crumb had wandered, facing each other, Julia on his lap impaled upon his fierce erection. She threw back her wet curls and pumped with strong thighs. He ran his hands over her firm breasts slick with soap, under her arms, and around her back to lend an assist to her motion. Water sloshed over the edges of the tub and grew cold before they finished. Julia rested against his chest.

“Totally worth that four-week wait.”

She nodded without raising her head and murmured, “Maybe all for the best, a real celebration.”

“No, I’m not buying that. Jules, every time I’m with you it gets better and better.”

“Won’t always. You know we have to clean up this mess in the bathroom, and that bedspread really, really needs dry cleaning.”

“I’ll drop it off on my way to work.”

“Good, because I’ll be on the site by six a.m. before they open.”

Remy groaned and not in a sexual way. “If that’s the way it’s got to be. Right now, I’m ordering Chinese takeout. Might as well get into the routine.”

“I can’t wait to get started.”